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2008 KANSAS BASKETBALL
Along for the ride: The Kansan's basketball writers
The nets had been down for a matter of minutes. Maintenance workers hadn't even begun cleaning up the confetti that fell from the ceiling after KU's national title victory. And already, fans reached out to Russell Robinson.
He rode in the back of a golf cart in the gray tunnels of the Alamodome from the locker room to the interview room. With his head in his hands, it was clear Robinson wanted peace, that he wanted time to reflect on the glory of what he'd been striving for since he arrived in Lawrence as a bony Bronx kid who tried to disguise his New York accent to fit in and couldn't get off the bench most of the year.
A few kids interrupted the moment, chasing down the golf cart and shouting at Robinson. He gave up his quiet time for reflection to make the kids' day. Robinson smiled and slapped their hands at least five times.
That moment is KU basketball.It's about championships, classy players, fans who care perhaps a little too much at times and love -love for the game, love for the tradition, love that binds anyone affiliated with KU basketball.
Champions will always be remembered,but the 2008 Jayhawks should be particularly memorable for their perfect blend of selfless attitudes, care for the program and ability for everyone to find his own perfect role. This year's team had all the ingredients that make KU's program unique, starting with Robinson.
Rodrick Stewart has a theory for why Robinson talks to kids at Lawrence elementary schools longer than anyone else and doesn't say no to fan requests. Robinson gets KU basketball all the chants, the history of winning, the often overbearing fans, the love.
"He knows," Stewart said. "Russell wants to win more than anybody. He cares about the school's tradition and us winning more than anybody."
He's also one of the major reasons
Kansas won the national championship. Sure, Robinson couldn't shoot. He'll tell you that the team often plays best when he doesn't score. Robinson wasn't very fast. He'll tell you he can't jump as high or run as fast as he could in high school. But Robinson understood his role and could lead.
"He's like the quarterback of the team," Stewart said.
With Robinson acting as leader, and Mario Chalmers, Brandon Rush, Sherron Collins and others all playing the role of hero at different times, this team understood each other, and they understood team basketball. That's why the Jayhawks are the 2008 national champions.
Not too many other teams could do it. Rush, Chalmers, Collins and Darrell Arthur could have all been superstars at a variety of other schools. But that's not the Kansas way. They had to give in and put team glory above themselves.
We all know how it ended: a romp against Roy in the national semifinal and an unforgettable finish in the national title game.
This year will certainly be remembered for Chalmers' last shot and that last game, but that shouldn't be all anyone thinks of when 2008 is brought up.
Remember the unselfish attitude of Robinson and how it spread. Remember how superstar talents created perfect chemistry. Remember how this team really was the perfect team for the KU program, one that Kansas fans shouldn't forget.
On a gray February day in Stillwater, Okla., Darnell Jackson's commanding 6-foot-8 frame slipped quietly out of the locker room after a 61-60 loss at Oklahoma State. His shoulders slumped and exhausted, his face drenched in sorrow, Jackson peered toward the ground, his vulnerability flooding the lobby of Gallagher-Iba Arena.
Kansas had just suffered its second loss in three games, leaving its record at 24-3.
Worse, Jackson was grieving his cousins murder, which had occurred earlier that week.
Kansas looked like a team in search of its soul. As Jackson searched the crowded lobby, he waded through a cluster of Jayhawk fans.
"Darnell, Darnell," a man said, holding a piece of memorabilia to be autographed. "We met you last year, remember? We love you."
Jackson's eyebrows arched. His lips curled. He did his best to stamp away the sadness.
That moment in the lobby of Gallagher Iba Arena — that's what Kansas basketball is about. The banners and the championship trophies - those are just tangible results of the hard work and dedication by a group of young men.
But in the end, those shiny pieces of hardware do little to explain the true heart and soul of Kansas basketball.
It's about the seemingly spiritual connection between the player and fan. It's about the feelings people experience while watching five strangers throw a leather ball around a hardwood floor. It's about watching one team raise a school, a state and a nation of fans to a state of unimaginable euphoria. That state of raw bliss can be explained only by the people who experienced it.
We all know how the season went after that loss to Oklahoma State. The Jayhawks banded together, and after 13 consecutive victories — four in the regular season, three in the Big 12 tournament and six in the NCAA tournament - Kansas earned the title of national champions inside the Alamodome in San Antonio.
But don't forget the other moments that made this year so special.
Remember Russell Robinson, tears pouring down his face as he prepared to take the floor for the last time on senior night. And remember the smile Robinson's father, Russell Sr., displayed that same night, as his son couldn't miss.
Remember Sasha Kaun's perfect game against Davidson, as he willed his teammates to the Final Four.
Remember Bill Self's face, the day after the Kansas coach had earned his first trip to the Final Four. His face blotchy, his eyes sagging, his stubble visible, it was clearly the face of a man who had barely slept.
Remember Cole Aldrich ripping a rebound away from North Carolina's Tyler Hansbrough.
"It was a blast," Aldrich said.
Remember Kansas legend Danny Manning screaming at the Kansas bench, "Keep grinding," as North Carolina inched its way back into the game.
Remember Mario Chalmers' miracle as it found the bottom of the net.
Remember Chalmers' emotional embrace with his mother, Almarie, minutes after the confetti rained on the Alamodome court.
Thirty minutes after Kansas had staked its place in history, Chalmers and the rest of the Jayhawk starters found themselves perched in front of microphones at the post-game press conference, trying to convey to strangers how it felt to be champs. But how could Chalmers explain what he had just done?
"It was just a lucky shot," Chalmers said. No, Mario. We were the lucky ones.
spring 2008 kansan staff
Editor Darla Slipke
Managing editors Matt Erickson
Dianne Smith
Design chief Drew Bergman
Designers Kelsey Hayes
Madeline Hyden
Maddie Herman
Peter C. Soto III
Mark Stevens
Photo editor Copy chiefs
Mindy Ricketts Jeff Briscoe Amelia Friedline Meghan Murphy Kaitlyn Syring Jyl Unruh Toni Bergquist Katy Pitt Austin Falley
General manager, news adviser Sales and marketing adviser Malcolm Gibson Jon Schlitt
Kansan Newsroom 111 Stauffer-Flint Hall 1435 Jayhawk Blvd.
Lawrence, KS 66045 (785) 864-4810 www.kansan.com
et cetera
The University Daily Kansan is the student newspaper of the University of Kansas. For students, one copy of this publication is free. For all others, it can be bought for $6 at the Kansan business office, 119 Stauffer-Flint Hall.
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN