Don't Put Me In, Coach (27 page)

We bounced back from that six-point loss a couple of days later and took care of Iowa with an eight-point win. As I’m sure you remember, our previous trip to Iowa resulted in me spending at least a half-hour on the toilet immediately after the game and making the entire team wait on the bus for me because I had suppressed my diarrhea for so long. Well, this time around I was thrilled to not have to deal with that again.

And by “not have to deal with that again” all I really mean is
that I didn’t make the team wait on me. I still had the overwhelming feeling that I was about to shit my pants toward the end of the game, I still had to rush through the handshake line after the game so I could get to the toilet as soon as possible, and I still missed Coach Matta’s entire postgame speech because I was sitting on the toilet as I pooped out what felt like scalding hot razor blades.

Two years in a row of this happening makes me believe that either Iowa was trying to poison me or the hotel we stayed at had some pretty terrible food. Either way, it goes without saying that I couldn’t possibly be more proud about my streak of having diarrhea every time I go to Iowa’s campus. And just so we’re clear, I’ve yet to return to Iowa City since this second incident, so technically the streak is still intact.

The Iowa win started a six-game win streak for us (the longest of the season up to that point) as we beat Minnesota, Penn State, Iowa again, Indiana, and Illinois shortly thereafter, extending our record to 20–6. More importantly than our overall record was the fact that we were now 10–3 in the Big Ten—good enough to share the top spot in the conference standings—after opening the conference season with just a 1–3 record. But while it may seem like we miraculously clawed our way back into the thick of the Big Ten race, the reality was that we only beat teams in the Big Ten that were considered either average or absolutely terrible. Up next was the real test. We had back-to-back games with Purdue and Michigan State, who were the two teams that we shared the conference lead with.

The good news heading into the Purdue game was that it was at home, where we hadn’t lost a game all season and had really been pretty dominant considering we won every home game by double digits except for one (beat the Buzzcuts by just nine). But the bad news was that Purdue was ranked fourth in the country and had been playing out of their minds ever since we beat them at their place earlier in the year. They came out on fire for our rematch game and, in the words of Coach Matta, “shot the piss out of the ball” (60 percent from the field) en route to a 13-point halftime lead.
And while we eventually cut the lead to two with less than 10 minutes to play in the second half, we could never get over the hump and lost by three in a game that we never led.

That loss was devastating because it knocked us out of first place, but making things even worse was the fact that we had to turn around and travel to East Lansing to play 11th-ranked Michigan State in our very next game. We had historically always played the Spartans pretty well, so I was relatively confident heading into the game, even though we were playing a highly ranked team on the road. My confidence was affirmed when we went on a 15–0 run midway through the first half and took a 12-point lead into halftime.

But my confidence also quickly shattered when Michigan State came storming back in the second half and played like they really did belong on the top of the Big Ten standings. (They were still in a tie with Purdue for first place at this point.) The Spartans took the lead with four minutes left, but we finished on a 13–5 run and won by seven. This meant we were back in contention for the Big Ten title, but since we had one more loss than Purdue and didn’t have any more games with them, we still needed another team to help us out and knock off the Boilers.

We got the help we needed from two different teams. On our way back to Columbus after we beat Penn State in our next game, word spread throughout the plane that Purdue’s Robbie Hummel had torn his ACL during Purdue’s game with Minnesota that was yet to finish. This was huge news, not only because Hummel was arguably Purdue’s best player and their game with Minnesota still hung in the balance, but also because they still had to play Michigan State one last time, which would have been a tough game for them even with Hummel. Somehow Purdue squeaked out a win at Minnesota, but with a huge game between Purdue and Michigan State looming large, we knew there was still a chance for us to get at least a share of the Big Ten title. All we had to do was take care of business in our last two games and hope that Michigan State came through for us against Purdue.

The first opponent standing in our way was Michigan, who had as good of a chance at stopping us as you would have at stopping a pride of hungry lions by using nothing but a slinky. Translation: we were Ohio State and they were Michigan, so naturally we had our way with them and punched them square in their vaginas right from the start.

A fun story about this game with Michigan is that about an hour and a half before tipoff I took the elevator back up to the press box at the top of the arena, only this time I brought a couple of basketballs with me. While I was up in the press box during practice, I noticed that there was a door that led to the network of catwalks directly above the court, so obviously I wanted to try to shoot a ball from the catwalks to the basket 120 feet below. I rode the elevator to the top, walked through the door to the catwalks like I owned the building, and maneuvered my way around until I was as close as I could get to standing directly over the basket, which really wasn’t even that close. (I stood directly above a spot that was probably about 20 feet away from the sideline of the court.)

Since fans had already started filing into the arena, I knew that I’d have to move quickly. I lined up the first shot as best I could and let it fly. Now, I didn’t make it and honestly didn’t even come close, but what I did do was cause one of the guys working on the catwalks to flip his shit. Right after the first ball hit the ground, I heard a voice yell, “Titus! No! No! Get the fuck down from here! Get the fuck down right now!”

With the guy screaming at the top of his lungs, I said, “My bad,” chucked the second ball, and took off running. What this has to do with the game, I’m not sure, but I do know that I pissed off one of the workers at our arena, and more importantly, I do know that one of the workers at the arena knows my name. And that’s almost better than hitting a shot from the catwalks. Almost.

The day after our game with Michigan, Purdue squared off with Michigan State and looked like a team in complete disarray without Hummel (and rightfully so). Purdue brought the intensity they needed and defended pretty well, but without Hummel’s
offensive skills, they could only muster 44 points and lost to Michigan State by nine. Suddenly, our last game of the year against Illinois turned into a Big Ten championship clincher for us, which would’ve been a big deal by itself, but it was an even bigger deal for me since it was my senior night and, since I was scheduled to have surgery on my shoulder the next day, it was going to be the last time I ever wore an Ohio State jersey.

As I mentioned earlier, the night felt like my own personal Super Bowl, given everything at stake and the fact that the Big Ten Network followed me around all day for a documentary. When I got to the arena and went out to the court to warm up, I was greeted by the sight of 3,000 students wearing shirts with my blog’s logo on them and hitting a bunch of inflatable sharks in the air like beach balls, which only added even more to the already special night. But more remarkable than all of that was the fact that The Villain wore one of my shirts during our warm-up that actually had “The Villain” screen-printed on the back of it.

People often ask me what kind of relationship The Villain and I actually had and if we legitimately disliked each other or if I exaggerated our disdain for one another just to make my blog more interesting. I think him wearing my shirt on my senior night (and what would be his last home game at Ohio State because he went pro at the end of that season) kind of answers that question. The truth is that we really did fight like cats and dogs, and the truth is that we legitimately did dislike one another for extended periods of time during our careers as teammates, so I didn’t exactly exaggerate
everything
I wrote on my blog.

But the truth is also that he and I fully respect one another and more often than not get along. Really, we were like brothers who fight like crazy but deep down care for one another, wish each other well in life, and support each other, which was evident when he wore my shirt on senior night. Also, just about every day, either before or after practice, he would honestly get butt naked except for his shoes and practice his ballhandling in front of a mirror while his dick swung back and forth and the rest of us on the
team covered our eyes in disgust. What does that have to do with my relationship with The Villain, you ask? Well, to be honest, it really doesn’t have anything to do with it. I just felt like telling an unflattering story about him to embarrass him because he’s an ass-munch who needs to be knocked down a peg or two. Seriously, screw that guy.

The combination of the magnitude of the moment and the senior night festivities made me bawl my eyes out before the game even started. I ended up catching a lot of flak from people for this, but looking back on that night I honestly don’t know how I could have not cried. As I stood out at midcourt, I was overcome with unadulterated emotion from seeing all the shirts in the student section and hearing everyone chanting my name when I got introduced. Ever since I was four years old, I had dreamed about that very moment, and now it was a reality. And so I cried like I had never cried before. It was inevitable.

As for the actual game, we let Illinois hang around a little more than we probably would’ve liked, but then pulled away with about 10 minutes left and took a 13-point lead into the game’s final five minutes. With us firmly holding on to that 13-point lead as the clock ticked down to under two minutes, the student section burst into a “We want Titus!” chant that reverberated throughout the arena and still gives me chills to think about. After a minute of chanting, our lead extended to 16 and Coach Matta looked down to the end of the bench and gave me the nod.

Even though it was pretty painful to move my shoulder at all at that point, I let adrenaline take over and essentially just stood in the corner as I made the final trillion of my career a perfect game by not even touching the ball (while also recording a plus-minus of 0). When the final buzzer sounded, our student section flooded onto the court, and a handful of fans picked me up, put me on their shoulders, and paraded me around the court as we celebrated our Big Ten championship. I distinctly remember thinking to myself that my life would never get better than that moment right there, which kinda makes it equal parts memorable and depressing.

But since I consider myself to be a bit of an optimist, I like to focus more on the memorable aspect of that night and recall this fact: the last time I ever wore an Ohio State jersey, we won the Big Ten championship on my senior night and I recorded a perfect game trillion as thousands of people waved inflatable sharks in the air and chanted my name before storming the court and parading me around on a couple of fans’ shoulders.

With the exception of maybe adding some explosions and boobs, I don’t think it could’ve possibly been scripted any better.

THIRTY-NINE

T
hanks to a strong end to the regular season and a little help from Minnesota (who I’m giving credit for indirectly making Hummel tear his ACL) and Michigan State, we were given the number-one seed in the Big Ten Tournament via a series of tiebreakers with Purdue and Michigan State. With this number-one seed, we received a bye into the tournament’s second round, where we played Michigan for the second time in as many weeks after the Wolverines beat Iowa in the first round. Michigan entered the game with a 15–16 record, which meant they needed two more wins in the Big Ten Tournament to even be eligible for the NIT, and it also meant that a loss to us would end their season. Knowing this, Michigan played with a sense of urgency the entire game, whereas we just went through the motions. But even so, we were able to close the first half on a bit of a run and take a nine-point lead into the halftime break.

When the second half started, we picked up where we left off and extended our lead to 12 early on, but Michigan came storming back to cut the lead to just four. We responded with a 9–0 run to
push the lead back up to 13 with a little over 10 minutes left and seemed to be on the brink of blowing them out. But yet again, they were too desperate for a win to just go away, and they chipped into our lead until they tied the game when Stu Douglass hit a three with 1:06 left on the clock. The Villain missed a layup on our next possession, and Michigan’s Manny Harris hit a jumper to give them the lead with 30 seconds left. We opted to try to score quickly instead of holding the ball for one last shot, and Lighty hit a runner in the lane to tie the game with 14 seconds left, prompting Michigan to call time-out to set up a final play.

Once both teams broke their time-out huddles, Michigan took the ball out at half-court and inbounded it to Manny Harris, their best player and one of the best players in the Big Ten that year. He took a couple of dribbles to run off a little bit of clock, then came off a ball screen going to his right, pulled up just inside the elbow, and let the fadeaway shot fly.

Swish.

Damn.

There were still three seconds left on the clock, so we called time-out to set up a desperation play, which ended up being “get the ball to The Villain and hope he saves us.” Since we had to take the ball out under Michigan’s basket and go the full length of the floor, the plan was to get The Villain the ball as he was on the run, have him get as far as he possibly could in three seconds, and then let the shot fly and hope for the best.

We broke the time-out huddle, and Michigan elected to not guard the guy inbounding the ball (Lighty) or put any real pressure on The Villain in the backcourt. This proved to be a huge mistake, but then again “Michigan” and “huge mistake” are synonymous so that shouldn’t have been much of a surprise to anybody. Once Lighty was handed the ball by the referee, he inbounded it to The Villain, and The Villain started running toward our basket to gain momentum. He took two dribbles, jump-stopped as he crossed half-court, and let a 37-footer go with Stu Douglass’s hand in his face right before the buzzer sounded.