March 3rd, 2008: Notre Dame at St. John's

NB: This was written before the WNIT draw was announced- wasn't sure if we were even eligible at the time.

If the ride is over, then this is the perfect way for it to end- although Kia Wright does one of the dumbest things ever seen on a basketball court.


This game is designed to break your heart. It's a baseball quote, but it comes to mind for me an awful lot when it comes to college sports, because no matter what happens, there will always be heartbreak. The players have to leave you; you know that coming in. They might come back on alumnae days or as staff, but the day that they leave the court for the last time in the team colors you've come to know and love is inevitable. And that's what it was today at Carnesecca Arena. It won't be the last game for Tiina Sten and Kia Wright, not since they've clinched tenth in the BEast, but tonight was the last time that they would put on the home whites, the last time they'd hit the floor to Kanye West's "Good Life", the last time they'd play in front of the few fans who've stuck with them all these years.

Yeah, I cried. I'm not gonna lie. When they talked about Kia's accolades and her place in the record books, when they gave her the flowers and the framed photo of her blowing by Toliver, when it finally hit home that the ride's just about over, there were tears rolling down my cheeks. I think Tiina had some kinfolk there- not her parents, but sisters or something. Kia's parents went to center court with her, and her large, extended family all seemed to be in attendance somewhere in the arena. It would have been nice if they'd done the jersey thing like most schools do, and I'm not so sure that combining the male seniors and the female seniors on the same shirt is a sign of unity and not just a sign of the school being cheap-ass motherfuckers. But whatever.

I'm not so sure I like Notre Dame. Melissa D'Amico, who's from somewhere in New York, brought a large posse, and they brought signs. Maybe I'm a bit, er, parochial, but if I'm going to someone else's house for the last game of the season, for their Senior Night, I don't bring signs, and I certainly don't bring negative signs; it's one thing to have a "Go Irish" sign, but it's another thing to bring a "Stomp The Storm" sign. And I really don't like Lindsay Schrader: forearm to Coco's, er, chest, forearm to Joy, er, chest, forearm to Recee's, er, chest; the last of these was met with a ferocious elbow. Recee does not approve of people groping her teammates. We were really wondering if Notre Dame was playing all out, since they were locked into the top four and didn't look like they gave much of a damn about most of the game- their shooting in the first half was appalling. It looked like McGraw was taking a backseat to her assistants and her starters were taking a backseat to her bench- well, for the most part. Tulyah Gaines played defense as if her life and existence depended on sticking close to her woman, and Charel Allen and Ashley Barlow looked often for her shots. Barlow found them more often than Allen did. We have also come to the conclusion that the name Barlow seems to come invested with a certain sense of badassery; certainly it fits former St. John's player Greeba Barlow, Louisville Cardinal Patrika Barlow, and the aforementioned Ashley Barlow. Hmmm. Have already mentioned my disapproval of Schrader. Was not impressed with the Notre Dame bench; they all seemed to be interchangeable, although Williamson brought good size. Granted, it helps one's block totals if players on offense are stubborn and persist in driving on you, no matter how often you stuff them.

Senior Night should have been Tiina and Kia's night to shine, and Kia did have one gorgeous pass to Coco, who flew in to score the basket. Unfortunately, Tiina and Kia also showcased their fatal flaws: Tiina is a stereotypical Euro unwilling to use her size, with a habit of missing easy shots and not taking shots she should take, and Kia plays far more with her heart than with her head. In the last couple of minutes, she made an unbelievably boneheaded move in picking up her fourth foul on defense, and compounded it by saying something to the ref that caused her to pick up a technical. Remember, kids, this is college. The tech was Kia's fifth and final foul, the seventh foul on St. John's, and two additional free throws for the Irish. This is NOT the last image I wanted to have of Kia as a member of the Red Storm, damnit, and this is certainly not the last impression I wanted her to leave on the scouts who happened to be there. Sky was off and on like someone was playing with a light switch- one possession, she hit a three and completed a four-point play, then turned around and gave half of it back to Gaines. Sometimes I look at her, at her body language in shootaround and on the bench, and wonder if she really wants to be part of this team; she just doesn't look like she belongs, and I hope she does find herself here- or wherever she needs to find herself. Monique was too well covered to get anything up, and a lot of the shots she did put up had the look of desperation, but she was fierce on the boards. Seriously, she channels so many sides of Sista Christon that the resemblance is getting freaky. Joy was Joy- you could hear her and you definitely saw her. Kelly got hers, although Kelly needs to either do some serious ballhandling and passing drills, or just accept her role as a catch-and-shoot player. Kristin got good run tonight- had one very tenacious o-board and putback, and generally did the job I expect of her, which is to hold a lead, neither extending it nor letting it go. For now, she's steady. Next year, we'll need her to be, er, more. Recee brought her badassery tonight. It cannot be stated often enough: when Recee Mitchell is confident, and not worrying about various injured body parts or whatever, Recee Mitchell is a badass. She's got a big body and she enjoys using it- but she's also deceptively quick for her size. And don't fuck with her teammates. Now, if she could just hit some damn free throws.

Looking it up after the fact, this was Dee Kantner's crew, which provides no excuse for some of the rather blatant missed calls that led up to Kia's technical. There was a point during the game where I thought they were deliberately avoiding making calls in order to avoid making one that would be controversial, and the game was getting rougher and rougher. I've already described Schrader's preferred method of finding space to shoot; on the flip side, there were elbows thrown by women in white jerseys. I don't think these teams like each other. I don't think Muffet McGraw likes the tri-state area very much, either.

Kia's family really is a trip. Her immediate relatives make it clear where she gets her knowledge of the game and the leadership she often shows; her more distant relatives showcase the passion and excessive emotion that often get her in trouble. I was about ready to smack one of her aunts over the head because the woman would not stop hollering to Kia the whole damn game… including while Recee and Joy were shooting free throws, which is enough of an adventure without further distraction from the stands.

It's not technically over yet. I know that much. I know they'll play the seventh seed in Hartford, and if they win that game, it's time for me to tear my hair out again. I know this much is true. And I know this was a signature win for the program, a fitting high note for two seniors who helped revive a team that used to be a joke. But I started with a quote, so let me end with a quote that really sums up how I'm feeling tonight, after the last time I'll see Carnesecca for eight months, the last game with any emotional meaning I'll see for two months and more, the last time I'll ever see Tiina play, maybe the last time I'll ever see Kia play. This one actually is basketball-related, from Pat Summitt's book Raise the Roof:

I realized the room was virtually silent. You would never have known that we had just won a championship, much less staked a claim as the greatest women's college basketball team ever. Our players sat in front of their lockers, subdued. Semeka practically hung her head. Even Kellie had a downcast expression. No one spoke. They just looked at me.

"What's wrong with you all?" I said.

"We're sad," Semeka said, softly.

"Why?" I asked, incredulous.

Semeka gazed up at me with those moist brown eyes.

"Because it's over," she answered.