Louisville Magazine

MAR 2013

Louisville Magazine is Louisville's city magazine, covering Louisville people, lifestyles, politics, sports, restaurants, entertainment and homes. Includes a monthly calendar of events.

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Inter-office MEMO Y ou know those heartbreaking sports moments fans can���t seem to shake? Te ones that play and replay on an endless loop in your mind like your own personal horror flm? In weaker moments, you may try to change the ending, using just the right mental English or topspin ��� a reversed call here, a rebound there ��� to turn things your way. Never works. Ever wonder about the fans whose way those calls or rebounds went, the ones celebrating while you were quietly dying inside? Me neither. (Lucky jerks.) Except that, in these parts, I���m one of those fans. My favorite March Madness moment dates to 1981 and a second-round game in the Midwest Regional between Arkansas and Louisville. Remember? Of course you do. Te Cardinals scored with :05 on the clock to take a one-point lead. Ten, the madness. Razorback guard Ulysses S. (U.S.) Reed �����yes, that���s his real name ��� took the inbounds pass, dribbled, dribbled, dribbled some more ��� sheesh, was he trying to run out the clock? ��� then hurled it from beyond half-court just before the buzzer sounded. Nothing but net. Your hell was this Arkansan���s Hog heaven. Te memory of that moment remains as clear as a perfectly chilled vodka martini. It was a spring Saturday, so naturally I was in the infeld at Oaklawn Park for the horse races. A transistor radio perched on a big rock behind the betting windows blasted out the fnal minutes of the game. Te Hogs had led throughout, but you could feel things slipping away. Tat U of L took the lead late was no surprise. Tose Razorback fans who had gathered around the radio fve-deep salved their wounds by cracking open the Racing Form and searching for a winner in the next race. But, what the heck, might as well listen to the fnal, futile seconds. When the shot went in, the announcer, the late Paul Eells, one of those forever-on-the-job home-team broadcasters whose voice was as familiar to Arkansans as Bill Clinton���s, screamed GOOOOOOOOOD so loudly that his microphone went dead and we all thought the radio batteries did, too. Within seconds, word spread throughout the track and cheers echoed as if we���d all hit the same long shot, which we had. Sorry to bring up bad memories, Louisville. (If you���re a Kentucky Wildcat fan, you���re welcome.) But it���s that time of year. In the commonwealth March is just a shorter word for basketball. Tis month���s question is practically required. Correction: In the story ���She���s Back, Jack,��� Relish restaurant owner Susan Seiller���s last name was misspelled. 10 LOUISVILLE MAGAZINE 3.13 ��� What is your favorite March Madness moment? It will always be the 14-point Louisville run in overtime of the 1983 NCAA Midwest Regional mnal ��� the ���Dream Game.��� Specimcally, it was Lancaster Gordon, with that classic jumpshot form he had, hitting the mrst basket after the overtime tip and then making a steal and hitting another, which quickly turned into more steals and more points. Kentucky was helpless. Everybody in the room where I watched it was ecstatic. Giddy beyond belief. Jack Welch Senior editor Laettner. Dan Cimba Director of business development Louisville.com My husband and I are die-hard members of the Big Blue Nation. And we found out we were expecting a little Wildcat of our own the day UK won last year���s national championship. Keep an eye out for JJ Heckenkamp in the 2031 national championship game. Elyse Heckenkamp Advertising production designer It was Easter 2010 and we had just put our oldest son on a plane for spring break. Feeling guilty about having no plans for our then-13year-old younger son, I got an idea. My husband had to work, so I suggested my son and I make a last-minute road trip to the NCAA championship game between Butler and Duke taking place the next day. Although it was just up the road in Indianapolis, we had no tickets or accom- modations. An Internet search later, I scored two mid-level seats and lucked into a room at the Omni, the ofmcial host hotel across the street from Lucas Oil Stadium. Hotel room: $150. Game tickets: $170. Getting to experience this with my son, who thought I was the coolest mom ever: Priceless. Stacey Hallahan Advertising director March 25, 2012. Gloriously sunny day. Sipping from a giant cup of blue mystery punch. Cheering for Baylor���s defeat from the patio at the Tin Roof in Lexington, which advanced Kentucky to the Final Four. A mild, jovial time compared to the championship win ��� streets nooded with the Big Blue Nation, some hanging from telephone poles, some burning couches, some nipping cars. Win or lose, Cats fans don���t mess around.�� Mary Chellis Austin Editorial assistant Sometimes, during a game, you can go to a movie or out to dinner and it���s like you are the only person on the planet ��� the Rapture happened and you are left to enjoy the peace and quiet. Suki Anderson Art director It���s March 31, 1986, and I���m a nervous 13-year-old pacing the mezzanine of Reunion Arena in Dallas with two of my parents��� paranoid friends. We can���t bear to watch as our beloved Cards are mghting for their championship lives against a young Coach K and his No. 1 Duke Blue Devils. Our title hopes appear slim as we continue to trail in the second half. Milt Wagner, Billy Thompson and Pervis Ellison all have three fouls. We return to our seats to face our fate with 10 minutes left in the game, only to be saved by Ellison, the Cards��� ���Never Nervous��� freshman. What a feeling. What a memory. Thanks, Mom and Dad! I can hardly wait to feel that way again on April 8, 2013. Ted Tarquinio Photographer One day after school in 1998, some friends and I were late for track. ���Practice!��� Chris shouted. ���We have to go to practice.��� Danny and I wouldn���t budge, our eyes welded to the TV screen in our English classroom. Some 13 seed we���d never heard of called Valparaiso was down by two, with two seconds left in a mrstround game against Ole Miss. Even then, as middle-schoolers, we knew the only reason to watch March Madness was for buzzer-beaters that left announcers hoarse. A player from Valpo ��� we were already calling them Valpo ��� inbounded from the baseline opposite his basket, sailed a one-armed heave past half-court. A Valpo Crusader snatched it out of the sky and, while still airborne, nipped it to a streaking guard named Bryce Drew, the coach���s son, as if Hollywood was scripting it in real time. Drew leapt from behind the three-point arc. Our voices were raspy when we told coach Gossett why we were late. Josh Moss Managing editor

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