Beware the #11 Seed

Going to the 2005 ACC Men's Basketball Tournament was a privilege; watching three top-five teams in this tournament was a privilege; hangin' out with hardcore basketball fans all weekend was a privilege.

Being the first #11 seed in the history of the tournament was...well, not a privilege. But, when you're a graduate of the University of Virginia, you've got to bite the bullet a whole bunch on the way to the grave.

My friend Wim "Slim" Taylor and I were in attendance for 8 of the 10 games (Wim was there for all 10); I gave my Thursday day session tickets to Wim's father-in-law so that he could take in some of the action. For the most part, good times. And, we got great semifinal games on Saturday afternoon before a close final between eventual champ Duke and Georgia Tech. Saturday and Sunday were great, but it was during Thursday night and Friday that much of the good stuff went down, especially as a UVA fan. Read on to find out why...

Thursday: Snatching Defeat From the Jaws of Victory?

I arrived at the MCI Center Thursday night with two goals:

Buy all the gear I want the first night, so I can get the ridiculous spending over with.
Leave with a UVA win...to become the first #11 seed in history to win their first-round game.

Goal #1 was easy. I walked up to the booth where UVA gear was being sold, and eyed up the prices.

ACC tourney hats: $22
ACC tourney long-sleeve t's: $30
ACC golf shirts: $49-$65
ACC collector's pin: $7

Jeez, this stuff sure isn't getting cheaper; I can still remember spending $5 on programs at big events. I dropped $120 on gear, then went back to my seat.

Wim and I were sitting in the Clemson section, so as fellow underdog hounds, we had good company sitting near us, key because I can be...well, chatty. Those of you who know me know that the Justin Bell Brand of Shittalking can be nasty, profane, and nasty & profane. I also have a tendency to say mostly un-PC things about cheerleaders, ugly people and the handicapped. With a family audience sitting nearby, I had to really keep the language in check this weekend...which was unfathomable in terms of difficulty.

UVA Coach Pete Gillen (WHOA, my bad...former coach Pete Gillen) did everything in his power Thursday night to spark my rage, and in just one half of play my voice was nearly gone. UVA was down 34-30 at the half...and I was just getting warmed up to yell at our players, who were dogshit on offense but actually seemed to be playing defense for most of the night.

Speaking of defense, when's the last time you saw a team play a triangle-and-two? Pete pulled that one right out of his ass, but then again, when you are coaching your team for what seems like the last time, you get a little lightheaded. UVA was down for most of the second half; with about two minutes to go, they went up by a point, to the happiness of all in our section. Wim and I were mouthing f-bombs to each other, since we couldn't believe this was happening; J.R. Reynolds, who basically put the team on his back for the whole game, had about 30 at this point and was on his way to a career night.

Then, what happened? UVA did something they haven't done for me in months, years, even...they looked like they might do something special--win a game they had no bidness winning. (Yes, that is the proper spelling of the word.) Again, Pete was trying REALLY hard to blow it for us; in two instances with under a minute to go, he took out Reynolds or his second point guard, T.J. Bannister, out of the game on OFFENSE. Remember, Reynolds had 32 at this point, but Pete thought,

"Eh, fuck it...we need players who can SCORE in there. Oh yeah, he IS our best free-throw shooter, too...nah, let's keep him out anyway."

This lead to the nearly-disastrous inbounds play that resulted in a UVA turnover, and even though we were up 1 with 18 ticks to go, I was confident that my 'Hoos would snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. Thankfully, I was wrong--Miami missed a wide-open three at the buzzer, and we took home the W.

Wim and I ran around the halls of the MCI Center, chanting out our theme for the weekend:

"Beware the 11 Seed [clap clap clap-clap-clap]!! Beware the 11 Seed [clap clap clap-clap-clap]!!"

Friday: Full Court Marathon

Have you ever watched four basketball games in person in one day? This was my third tournament of this type ('95 ACCs, 2002 NCAAs), but even when you have done it before, you really can't prepare mentally for sitting on your butt from 12 PM until 11 PM, with a break for dinner. Sure, it's a lot of great basketball--the second-best game of the weekend was the UNC come-from-behind victory over Clemson, the first game of the day--but it takes its toll on you, especially if you like yelling at things for no reason at all.

Wim and I spent time yelling at everything--Virginia Tech fans and players (I mean, they ARE Virginia Tech); a shitty halftime contest for a million dollars, where a contestant tried to shoot his half court shot as a set shot; bullshit, phantom foul calls on Clemson's players as they blew it in the final five minutes; N.C. State's male cheerleaders, for doing a slide-through move with their female companions that made for the best strongarm moves of the weekend; and, UVA, for being, you know, UVA.

I also took solace in sitting next to a guy that went to Carolina that spoke literally no intelligible English. This guy was talking to me and I literally had no fucking idea what he was saying to me; it was like listening to Bobby Bowden during a news conference, but not realizing that he was talking about ice skating instead of football. But, this only made it funnier to me; my man would say something to me like

"Hey...ahiofda yhfklea narea ekara?"

and I would respond with things like

"I don't know who that foul was on" or "Yeah, he's probably got a shot to play in the League" or "Wim and I went to UVA together." Seriously hilarious; it's not fair to call the guy a redneck, but the accent was so thick that I just stopped trying to understand him after a while.

After doing dinner at Five Guys--which was a terrible idea upon further reflection; I think my heart actually stopped for about four minutes after we ate--we came back to the arena to watch a great N.C. State-Wake game (minus Chris Paul) and then...

UVA. The great thing about our matchup with Duke was that we were playing, for my money, the most hated franchise in the history of sports, the Duke men's basketball team. So, when Duke's team entered the arena, a chorus of boos rained down from the rafters, as fans for ten ACC schools sang their disapproval of everything related to the Blue Devils--their uniforms, their coach, their players, their cheerleaders. Even when Duke fans were shown on the Jumbotron, people booed them, too. It was hilarious.

We played great defense in the final game of the marathon night, holding J.J. Redick to 4-for-17 shooting, but still got bombed and bounced out of the tournament. Redick does have to endure a sick amount of harshness from fans, but I am confident that it doesn't hold a candle to Christian Laettner bashing by the time Laettner was a junior more than a dozen years ago. I've never even heard of hatred like what Laettner experienced; man, I think even his teammates seemed annoyed by him sometimes.

Will I ever get the chance to go back and watch another ACC tournament? I sure hope so, but tickets for next year's event (the first in the league's history with 12 teams competing) will be even tougher and even more valuable to the great American icon, the scalper. At least we got to be the first #11 seed in the history of the league...and, we have the chance to fall further next year. So sad...so sad.

Random Bellviews, courtesy of Bell and Longer Community Trust:

60° in March: Opening Weekend
The trailer for "Sin City": $9.50 Show
Going to a house party to see the Harlem Globetrotters...and then the 'Trotters don't show up: Matinee
Constantly watching commercials about beer taste loss: Rental
Watching really, really fat people try and sit in seats at the MCI Center: Hard Vice

bellview--when in doubt, shoot the three

Beware the #11 Seed!