Above, Ryan Arcidiacono directs Villanova's offense. At right, Trevor Cooney slams one home for Syracuse. Both play in tonight's Final Four.
It is, and has been for a long, loooooog time, a sad state of affairs when the male species of almost an entire race is scared of its own shadow, and, heaven forbid, what "others" may think, that it cannot possibly enjoy the success of one of its own – and don't you dare suggest that any athleticism may have been involved.
It could be a difficult night for white guys.
Not those taking the floor in NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament semifinals, but those with the bubbling- over inferiority complex masked as dislike, disdain or even hate for fellow light-skinned fellas who somehow, in some way, didn’t give a rat’s ass about stereotypes and stupid comments and just opted to play the game – perhaps even as well as Villanova senior point guard Ryan Arcidiacono.
It is, and has been for a long, loooooong time, a sad state of affairs when the male species of almost an entire race is scared by its own shadow, and, heaven forbid, what “others” may think, that it cannot possibly enjoy the success of one of its own – and don’t you dare suggest that any athleticism may have been involved.
Ridiculous. All of it. Always is. Always has been. If a dude can play, he can play. Don’t matter what race, ethnicity or religion is attached to him. Not for nothing, but you got a guy playing Division I basketball, on scholarship, and he freakin’ starts … uh, you got a pretty serious athlete on your hands.
By any unbiased standards.
Oh yeah, we’ve really come a long way since Texas Western shattered one color barrier five decades ago. Or have we?
Hate to tell ya, pale scaredy cats out there, but two of the last six Most Outstanding Players of college hoops’ prime event are, umm, part of your clan – you know, they just lack the self-loathing and general overall fear.
Even better, Duke’s Kyle Singler, unlike Louisville’s Luke Hancock three years ago, wasn’t even the best Caucasian on the court in 2010’s tournament or finale. That honor belonged to Butler’s Gordon Hayward, who, say it ain’t so, now stars in the NBA for the Utah Jazz.
Oh, yeah, did you notice J.J. Redick, former poster child for White Boy U (aka, Duke), is a legit threat for the L.A. Clippers – more than a decade into his pro career?
Seriously, the silliness of it all defies any acceptable rationale.
In other words, get over it already and just accept the fact that, yeah, indeed, some of these white guys can really play … at a high level … and there is nothing wrong with that.
Nor is there anything wrong with enjoying that as a fellow white guy.
So, tonight, if “Arch” wills the Wildcats into Monday night’s national title game, proving himself – yet again – as the toughest kid in the college game and one good enough to make critical, outcome-determining plays, don’t fight the urge to appreciate a job well done, even though you’ve conditioned yourself to believe that it’s wrong to do so.
If Syracuse’s Trevor Cooney, one of those wrongly pigeon-holed 3-point snipers due to his complexion and short stature, attacks the rim in the nightcap and completely befuddles North Carolina with his interior shot-making skills, or Orange teammate and fellow white guy Tyler Lydon jumps out of the building to block a shot or six, don’t deny reality and make excuses for any of that happening.
Just stop the squirming, eye turning and bad-mouthing your own “boys” as a means to satisfy your warped sense of fitting in or, even more laughable, being objective. Merely own it and embrace it.
You’ll be a better white guy, and a better guy, period, for it.