Ray Holloman Posts

One of college sports' fiercest rivalries is about to turn into a blood feud.

At least, if the amateur boxers in this ring have anything to do about it.

If you could only press the mute button, Ricky Hatton would be exactly what a boxing nation is looking for.

The 140-pound world champion is the sort of fighter who would come forward on anything smaller or slower than a moving freight train. Out of the ring, he exudes a charm that's equal parts blue collar and Pabst Blue Ribbon -- or the British equivalent -- and probably hasn't had to gone a night in the pub without someone buying him a pint since his grew taller than a bar stool.

There are giveaways, of course, like his pale skin that makes the Elgin marbles look like they're stored in a tanning both, and the baby blue Manchester City Football Club gear that he wears, suggests not so subtly that he isn't from around these parts.

But all in all, he's a pretty fair facsimile of what star looks like in the land of Rocky rather than royalty.

He is Ricky Hatton. American Idol.

At least, until he opens his mouth and his pronounced Mancunian accent pours a bottle of pain thinner all over that portrait.

He's the only man that can call undefeated five-division champion Floyd Mayweather Jr. "Lil Floyd" and not earn a busted lip for his effort.

Part of that privilege is owed to the fact that Floyd Mayweather Sr. is the father of the former pound-for-pound champion, the man who first put a pair of boxing gloves on those NASCAR fast hands and first nurtured his ability in the hurt business.

The rest is because the two don't speak.

No letters, no phone calls, no conversations. Not so much as a shared turkey leg and a football game for the better part of a decade, excluding a brief period in 2007 when their interests, and maybe emotions, were allied.

WASHINGTON -- Colby Cohen saw it before anyone in the building.

In the life of Winky Wright, fame and fortune have all but fought frustration and frequent flyer miles to a 12-round draw.

WASHINGTON -- Enrico Blasi believes in mission statements to the point that he probably doesn't eat breakfast without figuring out how that bowl of cereal fits into his 10-year plan.

And while Miami University is just the second No. 4 seed to advance to college hockey's national title game, the coach has no room for Cinderella in his mission statement.

So don't even mention that fictional princess. Heck, don't mention any princess. Don't hand him any lines about glass skates or being happy to be here. He'll smash everyone of them like he's taking a baseball bat to that famous slipper.

Enrico Blasi's mission statement is only about being the best. Every moment. Every breath. Every day. Cinderella had a night. Blasi wants a program.

WASHINGTON -- They were happy to be there, they wanted everyone to know, going so far as to thank the media in attendance, the fans and just about everybody who gleefully mangled the University's unusual name at some point. But they weren't happy to be here, exactly. Not now, not first at the dais, less than 15 minutes after the final goal horn of the season, in the loser's spot, wearing a hurt not even a Stanley Cup-worthy collection of playoff beards could hide.

Bemidji State senior Travis Winter had his jersey on still, the rest sat only in their undershirts, answering question after question.

After their 4-1 loss to Miami, even their words seemed to drip with sweat.

And the realization that midnight had come for this hockey Cinderella.

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The Losers | Back to Winners



Duke -- If ever there was a time that a Sweet 16 was enough for the Blue Devils, it was well before the coach with bevy of consonants in his last name and bevy of Final Fours on his resume took over. Before this season, only two four-year players since his 1983 recruiting class had graduated without playing in a Final Four and several, including stars of somewhat more recent vintage like Shane Battier and Chris Duhon, went to multiple Final Fours. But Greg Paulus, Martynas Pocius and redshirt senior David McClure join a list that was comprised solely of 2008 grad DeMarcus Nelson and 1997 grad Steve Wojciechowski, who at least advanced to the Elite Eight before an epic collapse against Kentucky denied the point guard his Final Four berth. But this class exited in a way that has been frustratingly familiar for Duke, shooting at a rim the size of a coffee cup as 3-pointer after 3-pointer clanged astray. Stars Gerald Henderson and Jon Scheyer finished four-of-32 from the floor in the Villanova rout. But with the sizable flop of the high school recruiting class of 2005 now out of the Blue Devils' system and what undoubtedly must be a fired-up Krzyzewski, who watched Roy Williams draw within one of his national title tally, Duke will likely find its way back to the Final Four sooner rather than later.

Jim Calhoun – A recruiting scandal surfaced around his school early in the tournament, leading the longtime Huskies skipper to handle it as arrogantly as possible. Calhoun tried to belittle the Yahoo! Sports report as something from a blog, "not even a newspaper," he quipped, "in something I probably can't get a hold of." (Yes Coach, the Internet is something you can't get ahold of, which is why only geniuses who want us to leave Britney alone have managed to find their way online.) The messenger isn't dead and neither is the scandal. Calhoun reached the third Final Four of his career, but his team's performance in the waning minutes of its loss hardly seemed to be the sort of win one for the Gipper effort you might've expected of a coach very possibly in his swan song. At the very least, the scandal will add an unpleasant footnote to the coach's career, if not bring it to a close altogether.

Pac-10/SEC – Hopefully these conferences were able to break a few reservations on short notice. The SEC only placed three teams into the tournament overall, an eight, nine and 13-seed automatic qualifier. Only LSU survived as far as the second round and by the time the Sweet 16 rolled around, the entire conference was off on spring break. The Pac-10 fared better in bids with six and five of them won in the opening round. But only conference also-ran Arizona survived to the Sweet 16, and, after finishing with a light snack of mid-majors, the Wildcats were clubbed by Louisville.

Mid-Majors – It was a bad year for those hoping to get in and an even worse year for those that made it. Cleveland State, Western Kentucky and Siena all won in the first round, but none of the true mid-majors survived the opening weekend. Mid-majors in name only Memphis, Gonzaga and Xavier all bowed out in the Sweet 16 as mighty Goliath once again gave David a wedgie.

Clemson – At some point, just making the field can't be enough for the Tigers. Now a regular fixture in the top 25 under the leadership of Oliver Purnell, Clemson's end-of-season fade has become as predictable a March feature as bad weather and steroid scandals. The Tigers lost five of their last six to finish the year and their loss to underdog Michigan was mystifying. Relative to their ability, the Wolverines didn't hit that many 3-pointers, while Clemson claimed 13 more offensive rebounds, had fewer turnovers and more steals. Yet the Tigers found a way to lose, hitting just 32.3 percent of their shots.

James Harden – Harden finished the tournament with a shooting percentage that looked a batting slump and a particularly nasty one at that. He hit just 3-of-18 shots in the Sun Devils' two games, an underwhelming .167 shooting percentage. And this may hit the now declared-for-the-NBA guard where it hurts most – in the wallet.



Wake Forest – It was another March loss in Wake Forest's history of silence in the postseason. The Demon Deacons haven't advanced to the Final Four since 1962, before Dean Smith coached in his first Final Four and while Mike Krzyzewski was 15 years old. But this exit was particularly galling, even by Wake's standards. This one wasn't over when the former No. 1 team in the nation took its first hard punch, it was over when it touched gloves with Cleveland State.

Referees in Gonzaga-Western Kentucky – It likely would've made no difference had one of the three man crew thought to check the sideline where Hilltopper coach Ken McDonald was trying to call a timeout following Gonzaga's go-ahead bucket with .9 seconds left. Some would argue that the chaos of the moment makes it understandable that the referees didn't pick up on the timeout, but when do you need a timeout more than in a chaotic end-of-game situation? And how do all three referees miss what everyone in the building is expecting? Referee the game, don't get caught up in it. Western Kentucky's team and coach McDonald himself deserve some of the blame for the Hilltopers inbounding so quickly without regard to the situation, but in a tournament with few refereeing gaffes, this one stands out as unfortunate and noticeable as the Hilltoppers mascot, a large red Jelly-Belly with sneakers.

Clark Kellogg – From his ability to obfuscate the obvious, his reluctance to analyze in favor of catchphrase and a whole lingo all its own, Kellogg's first Final Four was an 80 minute thank-you to whomever invented the mute button. You don't shoot well or poorly in Kellogg land, your "shot making" is good or bad. Offensive rebounds have something to do with a buffet line (A theory Dinner Bell Mel Turpin espoused on his way out of the NBA). Hooking to get around a guy is in some way a chicken wing, proving why chickens don't play basketball, or at least foul out easily. And what the heck is a lower body root canal?

Whatever deals have to be done to put Bill Raftery in that chair, make them happen. In fact, your taxes forms should arrive with an option to check off the box to donate one dollar to the Raftery fund.

NCAA Travel Desk – The NCAA itself insists on handling all travel for teams in the NCAA tournament, which, given that they're paying for it, seems to make sense. So, in flying 65 teams to eight opening-round cities, there's certain to be some delay. But the one that caused West Virginia to arrive in Minneapolis at roughly the time your garbage man is getting up for work, was one heck of a screwup, even by airlines massive foul-up standards. The Mountaineers had hoped to leave Tuesday afternoon. By the time their charter was delayed, canceled, then bailed out by Delta, it was well into the wee hours of Thursday morning. The Mountaineers checked into their hotel near 4AM and were swept out of the tournament hours later, all the while looking like they were running in sand.

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In a sea of green, Michigan State flat out drowned.