Small town bb is fun

My friend Tom Elliott, who covers preps for the St. Cloud Times, threw me an accosting look yesterday. "Your sports blog has been headed in different directions lately," he said.

I started to protest that I said in the first effort that a lot of what goes on here would not have a lot to do with sports. But there are times where it is time to return to one's roots.

So, Tom, I hope you read this one. This is one of those times.

About a month ago, I rhapsodized about the pleasures that come with section hockey week. Today is another happy missive. This time, the subject is the MSHSL Class A boys' basketball tournament.

For the first 57 years of its existence, Minnesota had a one-class BB tournament. In 1970, it went to a two-class event. 25 years later, it was expanded to a 16-team event. Two years after that, they went to the current four-class format. While the majority of games are played at Target Center, 10 first round games are played at creaky Williams Arena, the home of the University of Minnesota basketball teams since 1921.

The Class A teams play their quarterfinal games here. The last several years, I have been assigned the p.a. duties for two of those games. It is about as much fun as you can have for four hours on a spring afternoon.

When I walked in, a team called MACRAY, an amalgamation based in Clara City in southwest Minnesota, was in the process of taking apart a local school. A skinny 6-7 senior named Seth Hinrichs, who is headed for Lafayette on a hoop scholarship, was busy making shots from everywhere. (I wonder how Lafayette, which came one game from going to the NCAA tournament this year, found him. The small school is located in Easton, PA - not exactly on any beaten path from Minnesota.)

As this happened, the crowd of 3,000 or so seemed to be coming out of their socks with joy. MACCRAY eventually won and will be staying in town for the weekend.

Now it was my turn to go to work. In the first game, Chisholm, a small town in northern Minnesota, took on Fosston. The Chisholm coach is a fellow named Bob McDonald, who has only been on the job 56 years. Chatting with him before the game, one might have thought he was in his first year. "You never know how kids are going to react, do you?", he said. "We played well in the sections. I don;t have a feel for whether we will do so today."

McDonald's kids all look the same -- young, lean with short hair. If you didn't know better, you might have thought you were watching a scene from the movie "Hoosiers." They call officials "sir" and, when asked, go back to their benches to wait to report in as a sub. But these kids are no rubes. Adam Vake, a 6-3 forward with a very nice touch and a huge hunk of a center named Sioka Latu were simply too much for Fosston to handle. The Bluestreaks played some nasty defense and won solidly, 51-39.

It was a fun game but it paled compared to the second game which pitted Springfield against Upsala. Springfield, located in the southwest corner of the state, boasts a population of 2,215. That makes it a booming metropolis compared to Upsala, which listed a total of 424 residents in the 2000 census.

"But it has a barbershop, a post office, a bar, a gas station and a grocery store. They also have a new gym," Elliot informed me. (The hamlet is in the SC Times coverage area.)

Both schools had marching bands that would be right at home in the Rose Bowl Parade. Just about Class A school has one like that. At Williams, we sit below the crowd. So, the bands sounds as if they are coming out of the skies. Trying to talk over them is trying to talk over the women of "The View." After a while, you simply give up trying and learn to wait them out.

There appeared to be nobody left in either town by gametime. The Springfield section behind me made a constant racket. I was distracted early by a fellow who seemed to believe the officials (none of whom came from anywhere near either city) were engaged in some sort of criminal conspiracy against his Tigers. At one point, he hollered, "You guys owe us eight calls." This would establish a new record for even upness.

As it develops, the enthusiasm occasionally went overboard. The first Upsala free throw of the afternoon was greeted with a shrieking airhorn, a definite no-no at prep games. The conspirator, however, must have been given a hint. He did it once but never repeated it. At halftime, a security guard told me he knew where the general direction where the perpetrator was hiding. Apparently one nasty look is enough at these games.

These may be small schools but everybody, it seems, has some big boys on it. Springfield's big fella is Tyler Marx, who is 6-8 and is built like a mountain. At one point, he simply glared at an Upsala shooter, who decided it was time for a pass instead of a shot.

The Cardinals may come from a small town but they made some very big plays to keep the game close for a long time. A freshman named Christian Pekarek caught my eye early. He dove for a loose ball and ended up off the raised court out of view from all of us. He emerged seconds later smiling. Later in the first half, he dove for a ball and crashed directly into the on-court possession clock, making a dent in it that looked like it had been hit by a baseball bat. He landed on top of me and Ron Cadwell, who was helping handle the official scoring. He also flattened a water bottle that drenched the official scorebook. Fortunately for your Mr. Pekarek, I was able to brace his fall and keep him from bouncing off a railing behind me. Ron and Kingsley Wilson, the official scorer, were not so lucky. Ron spent the rest of the game with ice on his hand and Kingsley needed a bandage to close his wound.

The small school kids play for keeps here. (Don't take my word for it. Go to the Friday St. Cloud Times website and check out the pictures from the game. Great stuff.)

Pekarek was not done. Later, he ended up in a pile behind the Springfield bench and nearly landed in the band section at the end of the court. While on the court, he made some great passes and a a few good steals. "If he lives to be a senior, he'll be a helluva player," one guy noted. My own view was there must be no walls in the Upsala gym.

The action wasn't always highly skilled. But it was always highly intense. Bodies flew everywhere all game. "We had more guys fly off the court in this game than we have seen all season in college games," said one Williams worker. At one point, I spotted Upsala coach Vern Capelle, who has only been on the job for 25 years, jumping high in the air to get his team's attention to call a timeout. (In case you're wondering, Class A coaches do not have show contracts. I remember a few years ago one head coach stopping in the middle of his timeout discussion to tie his shoe. He got up and said "Now where was I? Oh, yes, now you have to cover ...")

There was one point in the second half where, with the game still in doubt, the entire Springfield bench closed their eyes as Upsala took a free throw attempt. They only opened them when the crowd roared behind them the shot was missed.

Later, I recorded another bb first. Cody Milbrath, perhaps Springfield's best player, had to depart the game at one point because he somehow managed to get blood on his back. It required him to change jerseys with Shawn Anderson, a sophomore who apparently wasn't going to see the light of day. I've seen a lot of blood on players but never a cut on the back. Have no idea how that could have happened.

On the court, Upsala hung in there as long as it could. But Springfield was a little bigger and, frankly, a little better. A 5-9 guard named Jesse Kieper nicely complimented Milbrath, who is 6-5 and the aforementioned Marz. Eventually, this wore the Cardinals down for a 10-point win. But such is the small town pride that, when, as part of the post-game ritual, it was announced that Upsala ended the year with a 25-4 mark, their crowd stood up and cheered one last time.

Everything moves to Target Center from here. That's somewhat understandable. After all, playing in a NBA arena has to be a juicing experience.

But there is something magic about the Class A games at Williams. Granted, the winners would probably get waxed if they played Hopkins, the big school power who is favored to win another AAAA crown Saturday night. There were some awkward moments near the rim and a few three-point attempts that were better left untried.

But that's off the point. High school athletics is, in part, about the chase. In this case, you have small towns who often face an opponent they know nothing about. (In many cases, it is a town they never heard of.) So they simply go about and run the plays they have done all year The fans yell their lungs off (even if they do make idiots of themselves on occasion.)

It is not always artistic basketball. But it is fun to watch and very intensely played.

That's what it is supposed to be about, right?