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Theory Disproved
by: Barrett Baffert
On this day, let us have a Viking funeral for the ’97 Theory. Let us set the jerseys of Mustafa Shakur, Ivan Radevovic, and Marcus Williams – three warriors who fought valiantly but sadly fell by the sword of underachievement – upon the kindling of false hope and set them out to sea. Let us shoot the flaming arrows of our despair towards this soon-smoldering vessel and hope it floats into our far and distant memory…
Fat chance. The bitter taste of this season will likely stick around for a while.
In a perfect world, the revelation of the ’97 Theory would have begun by stunning Florida. Analysts around the country would ask, “Could this Arizona team be the next to knock off three number one seeds?” Yes, the ’97 Theory would say as the ‘Cats eventually defeated an obscenely talented Kansas squad (sound vaguely familiar?).
Then, as the ‘Cats prepared to play their third top seeded opponent, the ’97 Theory would step in again, deciding, “let’s avenge the 2001 loss while we’re at it.” Duke would magically be inserted to play the role of soon-to-be runner up. Gilbert Arenas would score the 85 he predicted, with Mike Dunleavy looking on from within a courtside shark tank. Danny Ainge would be fined for sitting next to Ndudi Ebi's mom during the closing minutes of her son’s phenomenal four years at Arizona. The team would celebrate alongside the Ooh Ah Man, Bobbi Olson, and the Gumbies, while Bennett Davidson partook in the, now traditional, “messing of Lute’s hair.”
Even Mustafa Shakur would finally receive the honor that every Wildcat point guard inherently deserves: to be remembered as a champion.
Oh yes, and the football team would play in the Rose Bowl the very next day.
Obviously, and unfortunately, the ’97 Theory was disproved against Purdue. Well, to be fair, it never had much legitimacy to begin with. Earlier this season, I described the Theory as follows:
How reassuring is it that the greatest team is Arizona history disappointed fans for most of their regular season? Using them as a yardstick for success means there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Ok, maybe we've used the "Hey, our national championship squad finished 5th in the Pac 10, right?" argument a couple times too many. But why shouldn't we? Everyone knows that anything can happen come tourney time (just ask 'zona '97, 'cuse '03, and 'rida ‘06). And as long as Olson's at the helm, it's almost guaranteed that we'll be Electric Sliding our way into the Big Dance. Man, I love Arizona basketball.
But one major point I conveniently left out is that ‘zona, ‘cuse, and ‘rida were all three or four seeds in their respective runs to glory. In other words, anything can happen in the tournament, as long as you’re considered one of the top sixteen teams around. So, yes, Arizona finished fifth in the Pac 10 both in ’97 and ’07 but, in every way that matters, the comparisons end there.
The ’97 Theory is likely here to stay, however. If the ‘Cats start out slow next season – which seems more than plausible, given the ominous pairing of youth with the schedule of death – I don’t think it will be possible for fans, players, coaches, or analysts to avoid comparisons to 1997—especially with a superstar freshman point guard from Phoenix. It’s become as much tradition as beacon of hope. But is there any harm in this? Are we worse off for believing in the ’97 Theory?
No. Like an alchemist trying to make gold from scalp metal, so must a fan find silver linings in scrap seasons. Extinguish your arrows and bring the ship back to shore. Embrace all that is good about the ’97 Theory because, sometimes, it’s all we got.
Bear Down and begin anew…
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