One snoozing moment

Before last night, I can think of one time I slept through the second half of an NCAA basketball final.

And that occasion, Florida's 2006 smoking of UCLA, is marked with an asterisk because I'd returned from a trip to Europe earlier in the day and was nursing a serious case of jetlag.

No such excuses last night. Struggled through the first half, then finally gave in a few minutes into the second half. Told the wife to wake me in five minutes. Awoke about an hour later to the sight of Jim Calhoun with a microphone in his hand at midcourt.

The first thought was: "Oh no ... please don't tell me I just slept through a classic ending." The second thought, upon a quick view of the boxscore: "Glad the wife was ignoring me."

There's a distinct minority of folks out there who appreciate good defense, and these folks view last night in a much more favorable light than the majority that defines a good game by the volume of offensive pyrotechnics.

You could argue that UConn's defensive field-goal percentage of 18.8 percent was the inverse of Villanova's 78.5 percent shooting night in its epic 1985 upset of mighty Georgetown, and should thus be appreciated just as much. But last night's game will forever be ridiculed because it didn't entertain.

In some ways it's unfortunate that the 2011 NCAA final will be branded in such a way, particularly given that it punctuated maybe the most rollicking, entertaining tournament ever. But even for the crowd that appreciates the difficulty of playing good defense -- and we can assume a guy name Brownell is a member of that group -- it's hard to keep from holding your nose.

UConn won this game, and won it handily, despite shooting 34.5 percent from the field. The Huskies missed 10 of 11 shots from beyond the 3-point arc. The teams' combined field-goal percentage of 26.1 was the worst in the title game since 1948.

Best lead paragraph from last night goes to Pat Forde, who began his column by typing this:

It was a fun NCAA tournament.

It was a fun NCAA tournament.

It was a fun NCAA tournament.

Keep saying that for as long as it takes to rid your brain of the memory of how it ended. Otherwise, you might be scarred for life.

None of the unsightly bothered Jim Calhoun, of course. The man won his third title since 1999, and in doing so he lifted his name into the pantheon of coaching greats.

Imagine North Carolina fans right now. Their beloved Dean Smith totaled two titles in a head-coaching career that began in 1961 and ended in 1997. Calhoun has three in 25 seasons at UConn.

Calhoun is a fascinating figure, and count me among those who hopes he sticks around a while longer. He doesn't take any crap from anyone, and he definitely doesn't take any crap from scribblers who dare to ask slightly lazy or excessively confrontational questions.

(For an example of the former, click here. For the latter, click here. And if you don't like foul language, don't click on either.)

If those clips aren't revealing enough of a man who perfectly embodies the hard edge of the New England region he represents, then an except from this column does it:

So what about that chip on your shoulder, Calhoun was asked, some argue it's only gotten bigger with success.

"I don't know what chip you're talking about," Calhoun said. "You know I'm on the board of the Eugene O'Neill Theater? You know there's the Calhoun Cardiology Center, that we raised $7 million? You know I'm an avid bike rider? I ran 12 marathons? You know all these things?

"A long time ago when I went to New York for the Big East tournament, I had a choice. Go to Runyon's, the hang-around place for the media, and catch a shooting star, or go with my family. I went with my family. I'm not from the blue blood of coaching. I'm a guy from Dorchester, Braintree, a high school coach. I am who I am. And I'm comfortable who I am."

Calhoun refused to call it a chip. He called it an edge.

"I hope I never lose that edge," Calhoun said. "The moment I lose my edge, I can guarantee, that's it. The edge is what keeps me going."

There was something likable about this UConn team, which finished 9-9 in the Big East before making its stirring, draining run to the conference tournament title that sparked its memorable NCAA run.

It'd be a mistake to lump this Huskies team with some of the previous juggernauts that ripped through everyone. This team had the best player in college basketball, and it managed to play high-level basketball when it mattered most -- thanks not just to Kemba Walker, but also to Jeremy Lamb and Shabazz Napier -- but this team's journey was nonetheless remarkable.

The remarkable nature of it was diminished by the fact that the presence of two other teams in the Final Four -- VCU and Butler -- was almost unthinkable.

Mike Wise of The Washington Post captures the UConn story nicely in this column.

On the night he won his third national championship, Calhoun managed to overcome scrutiny, suspension, sickness and, finally, the sentimental favorite on the last night of the college basketball season.

Cantankerous, inaudible sometimes, the old man is a survivor.

Whatever you think of Calhoun, this was his most impressive coaching performance, turning a team with one star and a few nice role players not expected to make the Final Four at the beginning of the season into the final snapshot of “One Shining Moment.”

The one and only shining moment last night came when the 40-minute slogfest was over -- or, for some of us, when the snoozefest took over.

But that shouldn't detract from Calhoun's accomplishment, nor the splendid month of basketball that preceded it.

LW