Iowa outlasts Wolfpack, 45-42

Given the current miserable state of my physical existence, Wolfpack basketball has been one of the nicest high points … including the loss last night to Iowa which was, to put it mildly, more painful to watch than my spasmodic GI tract. Painful because our guys had such a tough night and battled so hard. I think Engin Atsur had what could arguably be the first bad game of his ACC career; the man who could do no wrong couldn’t do anything right in Big Ten Country; he couldn’t steal, he couldn’t pass, he couldn’t cut half the damned time and nobody fed him the three (which was probably smart, given the state of our shooting, which was colder than the temperature outside the building, a rumored 20 degrees). He actually had three fouls about three minutes into the second half, and he just does not foul.

Not only did most of our shots not go in, they bricked so loud on the rim that they echoed in the damned stadium and out the television speakers like death knells. Iowa had our number – they clamped us down and bit into us and never let go. But! But … neither did we. We had their number, too. We bit back and hung in. Two years ago, our team would have let a team like this walk all over us and put us in the hole by fifteen or nineteen points that we would then spend the rest of the game clawing out of unsuccessfully. About eleven months ago, our team probably wouldn’t have managed to claw back at all. But THIS TEAM didn’t let them get away, never got into a huge hole, and stuck it out.

Even though it seemed to take them the first thirteen minutes of play to trust each other and their own offense, once they bit down, they did not let go for a second and they played their hearts out. Not once did they look defeated. They kept clawing back, they kept up a killer defensive pace, they never wore down. Not until the last second, and it just didn’t fall. And that’s all.