Templetown Takeover

We stormed the court last night. We, the Temple Owls. We, the Cherry and White. For the second time in as many Decembers, an unranked Temple basketball squad pulled off the upset against a top-ten team at home. Temple upset #9 Georgetown. It’s kind of a big deal. Don’t sit there and give me a “Bully for you, Teddy Roosevelt.” It’s kind of a big deal.

ESPN gifted the match with a nationally-televised, primetime slot. The anticipation was high. The question on campus all day long was “Hey, do you think we can win this?” Fans started lining up four hours before tip-off to make sure they got the best seats in the house.

Temple had something to prove. After starting out the season in the top 25, they lost their ranking with a few sloppy performances. Back on the home court for the first time in nearly a month and facing a formidable opponent, they were intent on putting up a battle.

And that they did. Junior Ramone Moore put up 30 points, and even the stat sheets couldn’t show how well he contained Georgetown standout Chris Wright. Juan Fernandez, Lavoy Allen, and Rahlir Jefferson all put up incredible efforts to help Templetown takedown the Hoyas. The Owls never trailed in the game and clutched the 68-65 win.

Maybe it was the feeling of redemption. Maybe it was the feeling of vindication or elation or pure adrenaline. Maybe it was the age-old expectation that a non-ranked team beating a ranked team deserves. But as soon as the final buzzer sounded, the student section emptied out onto the maple of the Liacouras Center. And as the famous “I Believe” chant began, it was still sinking in. TU students have shirts, have signs, have posters, have schedule magnets, have headlines, have keychains, have spirit. But it was still sinking in.

Temple still has a long road ahead with tough matchups against Villanova, St. Joe’s, and Duke. With this huge momentum shift, however, the Owls will carry an unmatched confidence. For the 9,000 fans who witnessed the upset last night, it was a game that won’t soon be forgotten. The deafening roars provided the soundtrack to a team fueled by passion and spirit. As that backboard lit red and the clock expired, the collective sigh of relief in the building was tangible before the upsurge of cheers.

The shirts last night read “I think you hear us coming.” Well, by George (-town), I certainly think they do now.

Vindicated Vick-adelphia

In my last entry, I ended with an omniscient “told ya so.” Today, not so much.

In August of 2009, I was that wronged Philadelphia sports fan. The one who whined and complained and loathed the fact that the Eagles, a pretty upstanding organization, in my eyes, inked Michael Vick to a contract. Never mind the fact that it was a one-year contract. The fact that they inked him at all was enough to set the city ablaze.

And let me tell you one thing about this city and her sports teams: we’re never divided.

Michael Vick the dog-fighter. Michael Vick the gambler. Michael Vick the prisoner. Michael Vick the Eagle? It didn’t have a pretty ring to it. Hey, I’m all for second-chances, but let someone else take him. Let someone else give him his second chance. There are 31 other teams in the National Football League. But he had to come here.

A year and a half later, those sentiments are little more than past memories. No more protesters outside of Lincoln Financial Field, no more skeptics in the newspaper, and even an ironic “Most Vegetarian-Friendly Stadium” award from PETA. And, dare I say, I’m a fan. Vick has done the impossible, and magically changed the preconceived notions of the Philadelphia sports fan, a Herculean task. I’m still not sure how he did, but he earned the respect of one of the cruelest cities in the nation.

When Donovan McNabb left Philadelphia, there were no tears, no sentimental farewells, just a simple “good riddance”. As Vick stepped into the starting role, however, there were concerns. He hadn’t touched the pitch as a consistent starter in four years, and there were legitimate doubts as to how he would perform. But those legitimate doubts were very quickly transformed into legitimate results, with his passer rating so far this year hitting 108.7. After garnering an NFC Offensive Player of the Month award in September, Vick was injured in the marquee return of McNabb to the city of not-so-brotherly love. When Vick seemed ready to return, the city debated who should be the starter, Vick or Kolb. I asked my cousin who we should be rooting for, and he responded, without hesitation, “Vick.”

He’s been the comeback kid. The saving grace of this football team. And I’m actually glad it was the Eagles who have given him a second chance. The guy’s been focused on his job: playing the game of football. He served his time in the doghouse (pun absolutely intended), and became the hardest worker on and off the field to improve himself.

Vick’s game back in Week 10 was the performance of a lifetime. 333 passing yards, four touchdowns, two rushing touchdowns and 80 yards. The Hall of Fame asked for his jersey after that night. Watching it, I was a fan. He got me. For the first time, I didn’t see Michael Vick the dog-fighter. I saw Mike Vick, the quarterback of the Philadelphia Eagles.

He may have fumbled the football back in 2006, but he certainly recovered his life and his career. The Eagles taught the city and the league a lesson and proved that he atoned for his mistakes and was intent on showing the world, and himself, what he could do. I was wrong about Michael Vick. He’s proven redemption, or something like it, exists in the scrutiny of the media spotlight, and you can come out on the other side a better person. And hey, if you become a franchise quarterback in the process, I’m not going to complain.