Thursday, October 20, 2016

October 14th, 2016: Red Storm Tip Off

College season is coming! For loud music, trampolines, burritos, questionable time management, new jerseys, old jerseys, and brief glimpses of basketball, join your intrepid and regretful blogger after the jump.

Hello, again and once more! Y'all either thought it was way too soon for this or not soon enough. Okay, let's be honest, most of y'all were probably like 'oh, here she goes again'.

It's the second Friday in October, and that means it's Red Storm Tip-Off time! Due to an unfortunate bout of abdominal pain back in January (don't worry, it was just gas) I ended up with a stray half-day of personal time lingering, so I took it to make sure I could get tickets without having to pull strings. The line was bad at first, but eased up after a while, so I'm not going to say I'm not doing it that way again, but I'd really rather pull strings. (I also took the opportunity to go shopping. You know, the usuals. Decals, pins for Moooose, mini-Sharpies, Selina's home jersey. The staples.)

So because I had time to kill, I had lunch at the Popeye's near St. John's. The place was packed. I finally had to ask a young man in a St. John's jersey and appropriately colored hat if I could share his two-top. He turned out to be a Johnny in multiple senses of the word, but I'm sworn to secrecy about at least one of them. He was in Chicago too, as it turns out, and we chattered about the team for a while. He doesn't get why more students don't show up, either. I guess Thunderbirds of a feather really do flock together, as it were.

It's really a beautiful day. A bit cool if you're not wearing long sleeves, but if you've got a sweatshirt, it's perfect. Not a cloud to be seen, but just a trace of haze- just enough to make sure it's not too perfect. On those perfect sky days, terrible things tend to happen.

Look, y'all, I'm not trying to be a jerk by sitting horizontally on the bench. It's just that if I don't support Jocelyn in just the right place, the circuit breaks and she goes to sleep. That's not exactly conducive to doing typing. The DJ is more conducive to that. It helps that I'm not sitting right next to him, though. I get the feeling it's going to be less pleasant inside, since we usually end up near the speakers.

Buses are stupid. Moving right along.

The guy in front of us is hilariously enthusiastic, and it was briefly rewarded by a selection to the dance contest. And then he fled in terror of the Nae Nae, and I don't mean Danaejah Grant. Otherwise so far it's been the usual endless screaming at loud music. Save some energy for the actual event, y'all.

Shoutout to the enthusiastic dancer in the rainbow jacket. She got moves. I keep thinking she's with Imani, but the person I thought was Imani is wearing Nike, and we're an Under Armour school.

Well, that's helpful. Jade's mom has followed in the footsteps of many a Johnny parent and labeled herself with name and number.

To the dude in the old school Red Storm jacket with Thunder on the back: your jacket is awesome and your ideas intrigue me.

Aw, yesssss, here comes the band. That's better. Less deafening. We'll be over by you next month.

Moment of silence delicately walking the tightrope of decrying gun violence and violence in the community without actually blaming anyone in particular for it. I didn't realize how rough a year it had been for the STJ community.

Well, that was disappointing. I really wish they'd make the Tip-Off more about basketball and less about noisy spectacle. Somehow, they managed to put even less basketball content into it than last year.

It started off really well, too. Both teams were introduced (though I hated the cutesy "sneak in among a group of cheerleaders" entrances). The guys had shades, and those were fun. Everyone showed off their dance moves, and I think Jade Walker might take Sky Lindsay's crown as the best dancer in team history. Shirts and hats were thrown into the crowd. Joe Tartamella gave a speech, and they showed a highlight reel from the Big East tournament (I saw us in the background real quick during the first part). The year was added to the Big East championship banner. Chris Mullin dropped a shoutout to the title into his speech, which was nice of him. They were really putting emphasis on the title.

And then there was the horrifically awkward group dance routine that the women do every year and the men never do, and I think Imani Littleton might be becoming one of my favorites for her utter lack of nonsense toleration. Guys. Staaaaaaahp. Y'all could have just had Jade and Aaliyah do a dance-off, and it would have been awesome.

Then both teams did some basic drills. Nothing terribly exciting, nothing really impressive, nothing out of the ordinary. Well, except for the fact that it was the last time we saw the defending Big East champions doing basketball things. After the drills, the men did a scrimmage. And it was a fun scrimmage, and Shamorie Ponds is going to be very fun to watch for the next however many years he gives St. John's, and if I followed men's basketball I'd spend a lot of time screaming at Marcus Clark to move his ass on defense.

But, y'know, I might have wanted to see a women's scrimmage too. Or even the co-ed shootout they used to have. Or even the men's dunk contest that the women judged. Make it more about St. John's instead of about the spectacle.

Instead, we got dunkers on trampolines, who were all right, though they blew a couple of their routines. I left before the musical artist started, so I have no idea how he was.

Time management failure to the max: there is no way on God's green earth anyone who isn't a competitive eater is going to finish three dinner-size burritos in the span of a scrimmage halftime, let alone eat three burritos and hit three shots from various parts of the floor. They eventually cut it down to one burrito and one lay-up, and I'm a little sad for the dudes that they didn't get to take the other two burritos with them. (I mean, I feel less bad for the guy who won free dinner for him and twenty friends, but still. Why waste the burritos?)

I'm amused that the Chevy Camaro everyone's shooting for is the exact shade of blue that Coach Bozzella would look for in case he was buying a midlife crisis-mobile. At least the one in the ad was St. John's red.

I'm just curious what a woman has to do at St. John's to get herself a banner on the wall like so many men have. There are lots of retired and honored numbers for the men. It would kill them to hold Aliyyah Handford's 3 out of commission for a year? I know this is the worst year to bring that up because of the guy who took Chris Mullin's number, but the point remains that the only number the women have retired is for a player who died young. We have history, but so little of it is honored, and that makes me sad.

I love my Johnnies. I really do. But every time I go to a big St. John's event, I am reminded that no matter how much we do, how much we achieve, we'll always be second fiddle. I'm reminded that even when we're given equal billing, we're not given equal treatment. I'm reminded that men's basketball is to St. John's what football is to BCS schools. So I love them, but it's love mixed with frustration.

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