Appreciation of a Heartbreak - Cpt. III

I should have known that Pitt was against the ropes on Saturday for a number of reasons.

First - Pitt had not really played well since their defeat of UConn on March 7th. A loss to West Virginia paired with three nail-biters against inferior opponents saw the Panthers playing with fire leading to a clash against a familiar opponent. I'm not claiming Pitt to be equivalent to the 1985 Georgetown squad, but I know that Pitt can't seem to beat the Wildcats in Philadelphia nor were they as intimidating as the Hoyas of the 80s.

Second - I had taken the liberty of recording "The Perfect Upset," the HBO documentary on the 1985 National Championship game between Villanova and Georgetown. HBO completed this show around four years ago and I had always wanted to catch it. It took me four years before the epiphany to record it entered my brain; I've gotten so much smarter in my later 20s. With the weather as poor as it was on Saturday, I finally got around to watching it. If you ever get the chance to watch an HBO sports documentary...do it. They are so thorough and enchanting that you once you finish watching, you want to learn more. Consider the things that I learned in that hour:

a) The NCAA tournament had expanded just that year from 53 teams to 64.
b) Villanova was ripped to shreds by Pitt in its final regular season game, a game where their head coach sat all of the starters instead of trying to mount a comeback in the second half. They were the poster children for being "on the bubble."
c) After hearing they had made the tournament as an 8-seed, the Wildcats had to travel to Dayton to play the Dayton Flyers (talk about a home-court advantage...)

And a ton more - come by my place, we'll watch it together. How-ev-fah, after watching the program, I just didn't have the best feeling about the game forthcoming in 5 hours. Villanova had history and destiny on its side. Their famous head coach, Rollie Massimino was attending their games. There were a lot of similarities to the '85 team - like playing with nothing to lose, like being told they would lose their last two games, like having great shooters and superior guard play. And what am I doing watching this documentary TODAY? Foolishness and folly.

AND FINALLY, with all of the statistics, match-ups, bad karma, history, and conference battles from the past, there was Patty. Proud alum from the class of 2004, Patty is Wildcat. And when pitted against Patty, 10 times out of 9, I will lose.

As long as I've been blessed to know Patty, even since our first date, I've badgered her about her sports loyalties. Since that first date, I would routinely remind her when Villanova was on television, updated with how they were doing in the Big East standings, ask if she wanted specific Villanova gear for Valentine's Day...you know, normal stuff that anyone would do for their fiancee. I can't say that she was always tuned in to me, but she normally smiles and nods and ponders the mess she's gotten herself into. Patty also has a lot of stability, of which I have none. Patty's world does not revolve around home-field advantage, Davids vs. Goliaths, or strikeouts-to-walks ratios like it does for me. If she misses the Super Bowl...ehh, no big deal. If the Celtics win the NBA title...that's nice. Johnny Damon gets traded to Yankees...life goes on.

Patty knew the game on Saturday was monumental not just for me and my well-being, but for my family. As only she knows how, Patty phones my dad in Pittsburgh and leaves a tauntingly derisive message: "I hope you wearing your Villanova sweatshirt that I bought you. I know that I'll have mine on." Bully!

At 7PM, I take my place on the couch pretty much a trainwreck with every possession - not as bad as the Super Bowl or Stanley Cup, but easily the most fragile I've been for a college basketball game. With 16 minutes to go in the first half, Patty calls. I think to myself, "if I don't take this call, Pitt is going to lose. I need to pick up the phone for Pitt's sake." I do and, in her most cheerful tone, Patty calls to see how I'm doing and figured it would be early enough in the game to call. With a towel on my leg to wipe the nervousness from my palms, I smoothly state that I'm fine and boldly predict the game is going to be great. "I hope you can watch some of it," I suggested. "I think you will enjoy it."

"I think I will," she says.

Kiss of death. Game over. Thanks for playing.

After the loss was completed, I phoned Casey to let her know that I was OK and Gaetan to congratulate Philadelphia. We spoke at length about the key points in the contest and when we finished, I had missed a call from Patty. The first thing Patty says when she picks up, "WOW, Matthew, that was so exciting. I'm so glad I watched THE LAST 20 MINUTES." As she goes into further detail about her viewing experience, I was duct-taping my heart back together as it lay all over my living room. I didn't know whether to cry softly or bawl uncontrollably. Usually after catastrophes like this one, I'm incorrigible. But truthfully, a part of me was happy for Villanova. It's like I told Casey, I think the worst part is going to be watching the shot over and over again wishing it didn't go through the net. Villanova is very good and it would be great to see them take down mighty North Carolina. But it sure would be nice to have Pitt with that opportunity.

Now Patty is preparing herself for the Tar Heels by working on grants, planning for a wedding, and supporting teachers to that need lesson plan assistance. It's worked for her so far, there's no reason why it won't now. And it's like my dad said in his counter-message to her: "One of these days, you and I will be rooting for the same team during the same game."

One of these days...Maybe I should take a page from her book of preparation. I might actually live longer and end-up with more duct tape.