So let’s start by hitting a couple things head on. First off - Subscribe button is now up. Add your email, go to your email and confirm. Go rip it up. Get your mom on this thing, start plugging in random emails if you have to, I don’t really care. Let’s get this thing rollin. Secondly - I have had an absurd amount of questions about Coach Turgeon and if he is a good dude and all that... Simply put… Coach Turgeon is the man. And believe me, of all people, I should hate the guy, he hasn’t played me in 4 years. You know those media chairs that we bring out onto the floor during TV timeouts? Yeah, all I want is to sit in one of those. Lifelong dream and the man hasn’t let me do it yet. So believe me when I say that Turge is the man, and I mean it. I’d be shocked if there was someone in the country who looks after their squad more than him. And lastly, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, ‘Tilted Bench’ is the name of this blog because it’s symbolic of my time here. I have sat on the bench so long that I have literally tilted the bench upward and cemented it to the ground where I sit. *Logo coming soon.* So there is that. Now into the real stuff.
Let’s dive into the story of the day. By request we are gonna talk about my first (and only) points as a college player and the storm that followed. There are certain details that had to be left out for the sake of making this PG-13. This was a Rated R moment. For the record, I am an avid believer in getting Trillions; however, I would never in the history of mankind pass up an open 3 just to get a Trillion (see Trillion below if you don’t understand reference. Titus reference.).
So we are down in Cancun for some Thanksgiving tournament 3 years ago. I mean we are in Mexico absolutely crushing it, and for someone who never plays, you better believe I was crushing it more than the next guy. To clarify quickly, road trips are as business as business gets. Everyone is watching film, doing extra shooting, then getting their feet up resting… Everyone except your boy. I literally just hang out and do whatever I feel like, and this road trip was even better because we were at a resort in Cancun. To make the situation even better for me, the other teams were also staying in this resort and within close proximity. While everyone was getting amped up for the games during the days, I was messing with the other teams (especially Rhode Island who had rooms next to mine). I’m talking ding dong ditching, peanut butter on door handles (I think it was peanut butter? I don’t know, different country), all that good stuff. Needless to say, I was in all of their heads before the games even started. I’m talking like deep in their minds, pitched the tent, lit some smores up and was living in it. I was hated, but even better, known throughout the tournament as “that guy.” I live for that sh*t.
Those are important details because as it turned out, we ended up playing Rhode Island in tte championship game for all the marbles… And we absolutely hammered those dudes. Melo had 30, Jake and Sheed had like 25 a piece, Young Sav another 20… You see where this is going, absolute merkage. With about 4 minutes left we were up by 40 (and no I am not exaggerating) so I start thinking to myself ‘Yup, maybe I will get some late burn here… (Story soon to come about how to prepare/the thought process for those final 4 minutes. It is not as easy as you think.) Do the usual, lay some hard screens, hold the ball for the final 2 minutes and go celebrate the win with 4 trillion under my belt.’ But I guess fate had other plans because immediately when Turgeon put me in the game, someone drove to the hoop, lost the ball, and it popped out right to me.
“I do not want to shoot it. Good lord, we are up 40, I just want to dribble the clock out and put an end to their misery”...said no one in the history of mankind. When that ball popped out and started rolling towards me I was literally salivating on the ground, ready to make the place go nuts with a dagger. I scooped it up and buried a missile into the hoop.
Editor’s Note: “Act like you have done it before” is a phrase used by people who don’t understand the meaning of fun. Luckily, I am a fun guy and I had never made a shot in a Division 1 game.
So again, being the fun guy that I am, I started a f*cking riot. Not just some WOOP WOOP stuff, I was literally shooting finger guns at the Rhode Island Bench and screaming “You can’t f*ck with this. BANG BANG BANG.” (lol). At one point I was shooting my finger guns at some old guy in the front row for no reason at all. I wish I was making this up, but I saw the tapes, and this really did happen (I blacked out and didn’t remember, but it happened). BUT AT THE SAME TIME I mean, great. Big deal. Some dude who had never done that before was acting like he had never done that before. But that was just the beginning, because one of the fans for Rhode Island lost his brain. Not just the casual ‘get mad, stomp your foot’ lost his brain, no no, he literally lost his mind.
I fouled that next possession (still couldn’t feel my arms or legs, from “the shot” as the nation called it that day, so I just hit someone on the following possession) and while the dude was shooting his free throws, that guy in the crowd locked eyes with me and would not look away.
Editor’s Note: I even gave it the good ol glance away for a couple seconds, looked back… Yup still looking, one more try... Yup, oh boy I might be in some trouble here
That’s when I checked out of cloud nine and realized ‘Oh sh*t, this probably aint good’ state of mind... You’ll be excited to know that it only got worse. In the handshake line the dude was yelling one by one at each player, some real explicit stuff. Like R rated junk that I don’t even want to tell you guys. (But if you really want to know, throw an email my way and we will discuss it. 18 and over.)
Editor’s Note: Remember, this was all started by a 5’10 walk-on. Playing in his third collegiate game ever. It’d be one thing if it was Melo or Jake - very very different when it is freshman Andrew Terrell (who?). I really thought I was going to be kicked off the mob.
As if the handshake line wasn’t bad enough, we then had to jog thru the hotel past the Rhode Island locker room (just the way the venue was setup) and the fan was waiting for us ready to fight. Me being me at the time, stayed extremely close to Kyle Tarp, our strength coach. If somebody had my back and could knock anyone out on the planet, it was him. So you better believe I latched on to that man.
Terp fans, you would be proud. Our team was extremely disciplined. Everyone kept their composure and walked straight by while Coach Turgeon stifled the situation.
Afterwards, Turgeon walked into the locker room and was so mad that he told me to pack my stuff. Haha just kidding, he f*cking loved it man. We got in the locker room and he went crazy about winning the championship (It is HARD to win at this level. You don’t understand if you aren’t apart of college basketball). I am in the back shooting FINGER GUNS EVERYWHERE. Everyone was celebrating like we won the Natty. Not only did we destroy the tournament, but I started a riot. The 5’10 walk on with no business being on the floor made everyone lose their minds. As my cousin Jon Dawson says every time I see him “Ay I like you man, but you crazy.” I love crazy.
Editor’s Note: This was my third game ever at Maryland. As you can expect I have a ton of content to talk about involving funny stories. However, not all stories on this blog will be funny; some will talk about what it is actually like to play here, the grind, different teammates, or other issues surrounding college athletics. Just keep sending me questions that you want answered and content that you want covered... An us thing.
Anyways, enjoy your day, friends. But first… Pass me the towel buddy, it’s cold down here.
Club Trillion (Founded by Mark Titus. Again, look him up) - When you play minutes but you don’t acquire a single stat… Think about a stat sheet, the first line is minutes played, and if you get a trillion the rest of the stats are 0’s. (no points, no shots, no free throws, no fouls, no assists, no turnovers, etc.) tougher than you think. 1 minute played equals 1,000,000,000 … 4 minutes.... 4,000,000,000
Update on Current Season:
We just absolutely stomped on Lynn. I had 3 good clean minutes. No shots. No hard fouls (regrettable) but 3 trillion under my belt.