A Curtain Call?

A curtain call of sorts

I sure hope not. Though things will never be the same.  

The Big East Conference will still exist, but only in a shell of itself. It’s not to say that there will still be great heated rivalry games, last-second shots, pep bands and mascots, fans wearing their school colors proudly.  The new Big East will feature seven of the current members of the basketball behemoth, plus perhaps a few newcomers to join the fun.

Syracuse and Pitt battle in Madison Square Garden 2013

But past glory, brotherhood, and tradition is only a memory.

I’m writing this while taking the 178 train from Penn Station back to Providence after catching an afternoon matinee featuring Georgetown, Syracuse, Pitt, and yes, Cincinnati too. I guess they have been in the Big East for a few years now.

For Pitt and Syracuse, this year marks their final conference tournament at Madison Square Garden. Choosing to trade Broadway for Greensboro (kind of ironic name) all in the name of football money that awaits in the ACC.

And for me that’s a shame. 

I’ve written in the past about how important the Big East was to me growing up in New England. I loved basketball, and I loved all that the Big East embodied.  I watched proudly as an eighth-grader the conference land four teams, Georgetown, St. John’s, and Villanova in the Final Four in 1985.  A feat that still to this day has yet to be duplicated.  And what a Final it was with Villanova pulling off the huge upset of the heavily favored Hoyas.

I pulled for Syracuse. My uncle had played football there, but it was a New York City kid named Dwayne “The Pearl” Washington that drew me in. I was a point guard only wishing to be able to push the ball and magically dish the ball like The Pearl.  The Orangemen (now Orange) were loaded.  Coleman, Triche, Addison, and later the likes of Sherman Douglas and Stevie Thompson. I remember the Dome Ranger (don’t know if he still gallops around the Dome anymore, but it was great.

My friend Chag loved Villanova.  Well, let me put it this way: He LOVED Villanova.  In fact, he picked the Sweet 16 bracket in 1985 perfect, capped by the ‘Nova upset of G’Town.

My friend Jason Palmer loved Georgetown. Patrick Ewing, Michael Graham, John Thompson, and Hoya Paranoia.

We all played basketball together growing up, and when we weren’t, we were watching basketball, talking basketball, and breathing basketball. Big East basketball.

My brother loved St. John’s. And why not? Walter Berry, Willie Glass, Bill Wennington, Louie Carnesecca are just a few names off the top of my head.

Many think the 1986 title game between Syracuse and St. John’s (won by the Johnnies on Berry’s block of the Pearl’s attempt at a game-winner in the closing seconds) was the best of the best. Of course, a little six-overtime game between Syracuse and Connecticut on the same floor would rightfully take it’s place as maybe the greatest game ever.

I’m okay with that. It was a Big East game. It was in the Garden. Tune into other conference tournaments on TV and tell me how many seats are filled. The Big 10, the ACC, the Big-12, the Pac-10: all have nothing on the Big East.  By tipoff of today’s quarterfinal game, at noon mind you, the Garden was packed full of students, alumni, fans, Wall Street executives, all who made the pilgrimage, but by car, train, plane, and taxi to catch the Broadway Show that is the Big East Tournament. It is nearly impossible to describe the electricity in a packed arena with a tight game and everything on the line.

Next year will be a new day.  Teams will leave and new ones will take their place. I’ll still cheer on the Big East, whatever shape it decides to take. I’ll also have many great memories that nobody can take away.