Lookin' Toward 30 & Thinkin' 'Bout THE ILLINI

I was chillin' out at the Hall, tonight, the Assembly Hall that is--the ORIGINAL Assembly Hall, NOT the one in Bloomington, IN--and I was ruminating on my days as an Illini fan.

In my almost 30 years on this earth, I've spent a lot of time in that place, and I've clocked a lot of hours in section B-19, row 20, seat 1, 2, or 3. I bleed orange and blue, through and through. I honestly don't remember how old I was the first time I went to an Illini basketball game, but they've always been a part of my life.

Me ole grandad, Ted B., played for the Illini and went to two Final Fours with them. Me golfin' aunt Beck was a part of the first UI women's basketball team. My fondest memories of the Illini date back to that amazing 1989 season when we went to the Final Four: Battle to Seattle. The Flyin' Illini is what they were called: Kendall Gill, Nick Anderson, Kenny Battle, Lowell Hamilton, and Stephen Bardo, among others. They were a dream to watch. I still remember the three pointer Nick Anderson hit at the end of the Indiana game to put us over the top. Even at the young age of 9, I relished seeing Bobby Knight turn as red as his Hoosier sweater.

Lou Henson. Ah, Lou--the Lou Do--the sweetest man to ever utter the words "ball club" (over and over and over again). He made orange sports coats fly off the racks at Delbert's and Joseph Kuhn's. He'd stalk the sidelines, hands on hips, comb over so sweet and patted in to place by his dear Mary. He is still THE Illini coach for me--Kruger, Self(ish), and Weber ain't got nothin' on him.

Then there was 2005--a long drought between trips, but the second final four was just as sweet. I still remember standing in the middle of my living room at the end of that Arizona game, Deron leading the way, with arms in a V, tears streaming down my face, saying, "OH GOD! OH GOD!" And, there was no one there to celebrate with me except God. I think He didn't mind me shouting out his name in acclamation too much that night for a small, insignificant thing like basketball.

I can't even mention my grandad again or the Chief without a couple of tears in my eyes. One of my favorite things to do, even today, is to look down and see Ted B. behind the bench. Sure he might not keep the time anymore, like he did for 40-odd years, but he's still there helping out the refs and keeping all of his praise and swears inside, for he must be a model of stoicism while helping out. (It's always amazed me how he could do that!) One thing that struck me tonight during halftime is that there will soon come a time when incoming freshmen have no idea who the Chief is. It'll be like losing the Chief all over again on that day, but until then, I'll still always see his dance in my mind during the halftime three-in-one.

Illini basketball has brought me a lot of pain, sure, but the joy is what counts. I hope I can spend a lot more time in one of those three seats at the top of B-19 before I part ways with this earth. Thanks for the memories, orange and blue!