SAN DIEGO - The pressure was on the UCLA Bruins in this one. Before the Final Four began, their legendary coach, John Wooden, had announced during a press conference that he would be retiring after the season. So now the onus was on the Bruins to send their coach into retirement with another championship, giving him an even 10 in a 12-year span.
But first, their opponent was Kentucky, deemed to be far superior to the Bruins in 1975. Kentucky was big and tall, boasting four players who were 6-foot-9 or taller. Kentucky had already been giant-killers in the tournament, knocking out prohibitive favorite Indiana in the Regional Final. That had been the Wildcats' only close game of the tournament as they eased to the final.
UCLA, meanwhile, had struggled to get to the championship game, needing overtime to beat Michigan in the first round, beating Montana by only three in the second round, and needing yet another overtime against Louisville in the national semifinal. The Bruins were also short and not very deep, and they lacked the star power of the previous Bruins title teams.
What UCLA had, though, was speed, and lots of it. So they pushed the pace against Kentucky, neutralizing the Wildcats' height advantage by scoring as many points in transition as possible. Even when they couldn't push the pace, the Bruins still had some surprising advantages. They outrebounded Kentucky 55-49 in the game.
Perhaps most impressively, the Bruins only used six players the entire game. Starters Dave Meyers, Pete Trgovich, Richard Washington, and Andre McCarter all played the entire 40 minutes, while Ralph Drollinger, the only bench player to see the floor, had 10 points and 13 rebounds in only 16 minutes of action.
Despite playing 10 players and having a height advantage at nearly every position, Kentucky couldn't keep up. UCLA took the lead for good late in the first half, and while Kentucky cut the deficit to one point with six minutes to play, the Bruins pulled away to win 92-85, sending Wooden out a winner. The Bruins had now won 10 of the last 12 championships, and 8 of the last 9. The school with the second-most championships was Kentucky with a mere four.
After the game, when the Bruins were done celebrating, the crowd at the San Diego Arena gave Wooden a four-minute long standing ovation in honor of his incredible coaching career.
Showing posts with label UCLA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UCLA. Show all posts
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
March 14, 1996: Through the back door
INDIANAPOLIS - Princeton coach Pete Carril was about as decorated as a basketball coach could be in the Ivy League. He became Princeton's head coach in 1967 and led the Tigers on a run of absolute brilliance, at least as far as the Ivy League was concerned. He never saw his Tigers finish below fourth in the Ivy League and had become the only coach in Division I history to win 500 games without the benefit of scholarships to give his athletes.
The only thing Carril was missing in his long and luxerious career was an NCAA tournament victory. He had plenty of chances, having taken the Tigers to the tournament 10 times, but they always seemed to fall just short, most famously in 1989, when they lost to top-seeded Georgetown by one point, still the closest a 16 seed has ever come to beating a 1 seed. Now, in 1996, Carril's 11th NCAA tournament would be his last chance to get that elusive NCAA victory.
On the other sideline, UCLA had the pedigree, wore the most regal four letters in college basketball across its chest. You didn't need much prompting to be reminded of what they had done in the past: 11 national championships (including the most recent), 15 Final Four appeareances (at that time), 32 NCAA tournament appearances. It was all there. They were a formidable opponent for Princeton to be facing as the Tigers tried to give Carril an NCAA victory to go out on.
Carril's Princeton teams were known for two things: a precision passing offense featuring a lot of movement without the basketball and back cuts toward the basket, and a suffocating, relentless defense that didn't give opposing offenses a chance to breathe. That defense was on in full force in the first round game against UCLA, as the Tigers hounded the defending champions from the opening tip. And while the defense was dominating, Princeton's offense was doing just enough to stay in the game, making shots nobody expected them to make, keeping things close.
Still, though, it was a surprise to everybody when Princeton brought the ball down court with 20 seconds left in the game, holding the ball with the game tied at 41. From there, UCLA had to know what was coming - the backdoor pass along the baseline for a layup. Carril's teams had been running that play since 1967, the year UCLA won the first of their seven straight national championships.
But there's a difference between knowing what play was coming and knowing how to stop it. And when Gabe Lewullis got the perfect bounce pass from the high post and laid the ball up beautifully, giving Princeton a 43-41 lead, Carril couldn't help but jump up and down, his thinning hair getting messy, his face unable to hide joy. UCLA had one more chance, but when they missed, the Princeton players mobbed their coach, as if to say thank you for the 30 seasons of greatness on the bench.
Carril's hands were in the air, and tears were streaming down his face. After 30 years, and so many near-misses, he had been given the greatest retirement present of all.
The only thing Carril was missing in his long and luxerious career was an NCAA tournament victory. He had plenty of chances, having taken the Tigers to the tournament 10 times, but they always seemed to fall just short, most famously in 1989, when they lost to top-seeded Georgetown by one point, still the closest a 16 seed has ever come to beating a 1 seed. Now, in 1996, Carril's 11th NCAA tournament would be his last chance to get that elusive NCAA victory.
On the other sideline, UCLA had the pedigree, wore the most regal four letters in college basketball across its chest. You didn't need much prompting to be reminded of what they had done in the past: 11 national championships (including the most recent), 15 Final Four appeareances (at that time), 32 NCAA tournament appearances. It was all there. They were a formidable opponent for Princeton to be facing as the Tigers tried to give Carril an NCAA victory to go out on.
Carril's Princeton teams were known for two things: a precision passing offense featuring a lot of movement without the basketball and back cuts toward the basket, and a suffocating, relentless defense that didn't give opposing offenses a chance to breathe. That defense was on in full force in the first round game against UCLA, as the Tigers hounded the defending champions from the opening tip. And while the defense was dominating, Princeton's offense was doing just enough to stay in the game, making shots nobody expected them to make, keeping things close.
Still, though, it was a surprise to everybody when Princeton brought the ball down court with 20 seconds left in the game, holding the ball with the game tied at 41. From there, UCLA had to know what was coming - the backdoor pass along the baseline for a layup. Carril's teams had been running that play since 1967, the year UCLA won the first of their seven straight national championships.
But there's a difference between knowing what play was coming and knowing how to stop it. And when Gabe Lewullis got the perfect bounce pass from the high post and laid the ball up beautifully, giving Princeton a 43-41 lead, Carril couldn't help but jump up and down, his thinning hair getting messy, his face unable to hide joy. UCLA had one more chance, but when they missed, the Princeton players mobbed their coach, as if to say thank you for the 30 seasons of greatness on the bench.
Carril's hands were in the air, and tears were streaming down his face. After 30 years, and so many near-misses, he had been given the greatest retirement present of all.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
January 20, 1968: Basketball's Game of the Century
HOUSTON - The Houston Cougars wanted to prove to the country that their recent basketball success was no fluke. Sure, they had made it to the Final Four the previous season, losing to UCLA, but people still didn't fully believe. So they made a goal of putting together a tougher schedule to prove to their critics that they were as good as advertized.
In the late 1960s, putting together a tougher schedule meant you had to include UCLA, so the Cougars invited the defending champions to Houston for a regular-season game. Though they needed some convincing, the Bruins agreed, and a game was scheduled for January 20, 1968.
Hoping to get as much exposure for the basketball team as possible, the Cougars started advertising the game early, putting previews for it in their football programs that fall. As the game started getting attention, Houston decided to move the game off-campus and hold it in the brand new Astrodome, the first basketball game to be played in that arena. Meanwhile, the teams did their best to increase the hype, and both were undefeated entering their matchup in Houston.
With the matchup of two unbeaten teams, the top two teams in the rankings, and with the novelty of the game being held in the Astrodome, another novelty was added for the game. The TVS Television Network picked up the game with the intention of broadcasting it nationally. Up to that point, the only NCAA games to be televised nationwide were NCAA tournament games, so it was seen as a big financial risk to televise a regular-season game. TVS took the risk with the belief that basketball could hold up as a televised sport.
The risk paid off. More than 120 stations picked up the game across the country, leading to a vast television audience on top of the 52,000 fans that crammed into the Astrodome - which was, at the time, the largest crowd to ever see a basketball game. For their efforts, each school received a payday of $120,000, which was four times the amount each school had earned for participating in the previous year's NCAA tournament.
It helped that it was a classic game. Led by Elvin Hayes, the No. 2 Cougars stayed right with No. 1 UCLA. It helped the Cougars that UCLA center Lew Alcindor was playing with a scratched cornea, suffered the previous game. Alcindor ended up playing one of the worst games of his collegiate career that night, while Hayes starred.
After Houston went into halftime with a 46-43 lead, the scoring slowed down in the second half. UCLA's Lucius Allen made two free throws to tie the game at 69 late in the second half, but two free throws by Hayes put Houston back on top. Allen couldn't get his last jumper to fall, and Houston had a 71-69 victory, ending UCLA's 47-game winning streak.
Neither team lost again until they met again in the Final Four. UCLA gained revenge with a 101-69 victory on their way to their second straight title and fourth in five years. But the success of this game had ramifications far beyond that basketball season. With UCLA and Houston proving that fans would tune in to watch even a regular-season college game, the networks started paying more and more for the rights to televise NCAA games. A sport that had struggled to gain a following exploded in popularity almost instantly. The popularity of the modern-day March Madness can easily be traced to one game in Houston between a pair of unbeaten teams.
In the late 1960s, putting together a tougher schedule meant you had to include UCLA, so the Cougars invited the defending champions to Houston for a regular-season game. Though they needed some convincing, the Bruins agreed, and a game was scheduled for January 20, 1968.
Hoping to get as much exposure for the basketball team as possible, the Cougars started advertising the game early, putting previews for it in their football programs that fall. As the game started getting attention, Houston decided to move the game off-campus and hold it in the brand new Astrodome, the first basketball game to be played in that arena. Meanwhile, the teams did their best to increase the hype, and both were undefeated entering their matchup in Houston.
With the matchup of two unbeaten teams, the top two teams in the rankings, and with the novelty of the game being held in the Astrodome, another novelty was added for the game. The TVS Television Network picked up the game with the intention of broadcasting it nationally. Up to that point, the only NCAA games to be televised nationwide were NCAA tournament games, so it was seen as a big financial risk to televise a regular-season game. TVS took the risk with the belief that basketball could hold up as a televised sport.
The risk paid off. More than 120 stations picked up the game across the country, leading to a vast television audience on top of the 52,000 fans that crammed into the Astrodome - which was, at the time, the largest crowd to ever see a basketball game. For their efforts, each school received a payday of $120,000, which was four times the amount each school had earned for participating in the previous year's NCAA tournament.
It helped that it was a classic game. Led by Elvin Hayes, the No. 2 Cougars stayed right with No. 1 UCLA. It helped the Cougars that UCLA center Lew Alcindor was playing with a scratched cornea, suffered the previous game. Alcindor ended up playing one of the worst games of his collegiate career that night, while Hayes starred.After Houston went into halftime with a 46-43 lead, the scoring slowed down in the second half. UCLA's Lucius Allen made two free throws to tie the game at 69 late in the second half, but two free throws by Hayes put Houston back on top. Allen couldn't get his last jumper to fall, and Houston had a 71-69 victory, ending UCLA's 47-game winning streak.
Neither team lost again until they met again in the Final Four. UCLA gained revenge with a 101-69 victory on their way to their second straight title and fourth in five years. But the success of this game had ramifications far beyond that basketball season. With UCLA and Houston proving that fans would tune in to watch even a regular-season college game, the networks started paying more and more for the rights to televise NCAA games. A sport that had struggled to gain a following exploded in popularity almost instantly. The popularity of the modern-day March Madness can easily be traced to one game in Houston between a pair of unbeaten teams.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
January 19, 1974: 88
SOUTH BEND, Ind. - It was 70-59, 3:39 left in the game. It didn't look like there would be any miracles today. Notre Dame wouldn't be waking up the echoes against UCLA. Time to lick their wounds, accept their first loss of the season with grace, and get ready for the rematch next week. But what the heck - there was nothing to lose, so Notre Dame pressed, got right up in UCLA's face. If the Bruins were going to win, the Irish might as well make them earn it.
But something funny happened in that final 3:39 in South Bend. The unshakable, unstoppable UCLA team, the team that hadn't lost in 88 games, the team that had won seven straight national championships - that team started to panic.
Facing a full-court press and a frenetic road crowd, the Bruins started committing turnovers, running into each other. When they did get a shot off, it would miss wildly. They looked nothing like college basketball's greatest dynasty. They looked like a team not used to winning.
Notre Dame, meanwhile, kept coming back, kept making the shots that UCLA was missing. the lead was cut to nine, then seven, then five. Then everybody started to see what was happening, started to believe in the impossible.
UCLA hadn't lost a basketball game since January 23, 1971, losing to Notre Dame on this very floor. Their streak of 88 straight wins included four wins over the Irish, by 58, 25, 26, and 19 points. When they broke the NCAA record of 60 consecutive victories, their 61st straight was over Notre Dame. Aside from their conference opponents, nobody had suffered under UCLA's greatness more than Notre Dame. And now, the Fighting Irish were fighting back.
Trailing by five, Notre Dame's Gary Brokaw made two straight jump shots, cutting the Irish deficit to 70-69 with 1:10 left. That was still a lifetime in basketball terms, but UCLA wasn't playing anywhere near to its capabilities. Who knew if they'd be able to stem the tide. Keith Wilkes seemed to have done just that with a layup with 45 seconds left, but he was called for travelling. Notre Dame ball.
The Irish tried to get the ball to center John Shumate for the go-ahead basket, but UCLA smothered him. Open in the corner, though, was Dwight Clay, who had gone only 1-for-4 in the game. However, Clay had won three different games for Notre Dame that year with final-second shots. He was the man to take the huge shot, and there was bedlam when it went in.
Notre Dame led 71-70, having scored the last 12 points of the game. UCLA had 29 seconds left to try to take the lead. A really long time. How much can you do in 29 seconds?
If you're UCLA, you can see a player take a long jump shot and have it hit the back rim and bounce out. You have time to have two of your players try to tip the rebound in but miss, and you have time to see the ball bound out of bounds off a Notre Dame player. You have time to pass the ball in to the great Bill Walton, who had played the entire game after missing the previous three, and who had missed only one shot all game. But even he wasn't immune to the late-game struggles, and his shot came off the rim, too. There was still enough time for two more tip attempts, but by then it seemed like a foregone conclusion. Shumate grabbed the final rebound, the buzzer sounded, and Notre Dame had its biggest win in school history.
But something funny happened in that final 3:39 in South Bend. The unshakable, unstoppable UCLA team, the team that hadn't lost in 88 games, the team that had won seven straight national championships - that team started to panic.
Facing a full-court press and a frenetic road crowd, the Bruins started committing turnovers, running into each other. When they did get a shot off, it would miss wildly. They looked nothing like college basketball's greatest dynasty. They looked like a team not used to winning.
Notre Dame, meanwhile, kept coming back, kept making the shots that UCLA was missing. the lead was cut to nine, then seven, then five. Then everybody started to see what was happening, started to believe in the impossible.
UCLA hadn't lost a basketball game since January 23, 1971, losing to Notre Dame on this very floor. Their streak of 88 straight wins included four wins over the Irish, by 58, 25, 26, and 19 points. When they broke the NCAA record of 60 consecutive victories, their 61st straight was over Notre Dame. Aside from their conference opponents, nobody had suffered under UCLA's greatness more than Notre Dame. And now, the Fighting Irish were fighting back.
Trailing by five, Notre Dame's Gary Brokaw made two straight jump shots, cutting the Irish deficit to 70-69 with 1:10 left. That was still a lifetime in basketball terms, but UCLA wasn't playing anywhere near to its capabilities. Who knew if they'd be able to stem the tide. Keith Wilkes seemed to have done just that with a layup with 45 seconds left, but he was called for travelling. Notre Dame ball.
The Irish tried to get the ball to center John Shumate for the go-ahead basket, but UCLA smothered him. Open in the corner, though, was Dwight Clay, who had gone only 1-for-4 in the game. However, Clay had won three different games for Notre Dame that year with final-second shots. He was the man to take the huge shot, and there was bedlam when it went in.Notre Dame led 71-70, having scored the last 12 points of the game. UCLA had 29 seconds left to try to take the lead. A really long time. How much can you do in 29 seconds?
If you're UCLA, you can see a player take a long jump shot and have it hit the back rim and bounce out. You have time to have two of your players try to tip the rebound in but miss, and you have time to see the ball bound out of bounds off a Notre Dame player. You have time to pass the ball in to the great Bill Walton, who had played the entire game after missing the previous three, and who had missed only one shot all game. But even he wasn't immune to the late-game struggles, and his shot came off the rim, too. There was still enough time for two more tip attempts, but by then it seemed like a foregone conclusion. Shumate grabbed the final rebound, the buzzer sounded, and Notre Dame had its biggest win in school history.
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