For Syracusans, Monday's NCAA title game victory was nirvana.
I don't mean those who came from some far-off city to attend Syracuse University and thus began their rooting interest at age 17 or 18 (although their joy is no doubt extreme as well).
No, I mean people like me, who were born and raised in Syracuse. For us, the Orangemen are a lifelong passion (insert "bleeding Orange" cliché here).
It's hard to explain it to someone who isn't from a college town.
Syracuse is a nice enough place -- if you like a lot of snow and a polluted lake. There really isn't that much to do there. The pro sports teams are all minor league and receive minor support. It's close to a lot of big cities -- within four to five hours of New York City, Boston, Philadelphia and Toronto -- but far enough away to make it isolated.
The one constant, though, has been Syracuse basketball (at least in my lifetime, which is at 35 years and counting). It doesn't matter if you went to SU or not, most everyone in Syracuse feels connected to the Orangemen -- it's our "pro" team. When 30,000-plus fans pack the Carrier Dome on a cold, snowy, wintry night -- who do you think is in the stands? Certainly not all students. Not even close. Sure, SU also has a football team, but this is a basketball town.
OK, you might say there are other towns that go through the same thing -- Chapel Hill, N.C., East Lansing, Mich.
But those cities and schools (such as North Carolina and Michigan State) have a history of winning.
Syracuse has had a history of losing. No, not in the regular season, where Jim Boeheim has helped make Syracuse a power. But in the postseason, there have been a lot of losses.
Painful losses.
Of course, there was 1987 -- Keith Smart of Indiana ruining Syracuse's title chances with a basket with four seconds left. And of course, making it even more agonizing, was that no one on the Orangemen called a timeout for what seemed an eternity.
I still haven't watched the replay of that shot. Just ask people who saw me that night in my college dorm (or afterward in the college bar) how hard that loss felt.
It must be something about the hardy stock of Syracusans, wanting to withstand the hundred or so inches of snow every year, that makes them stick with this program. Because the next year and year after that and year after that, we all had to watch more excruciating losses.
There was getting blown out by David Robinson and Navy in 1986 -- at the Carrier Dome. Never seen the Dome so quiet.
There was having to watch the Orangemen lose to Rhode Island and guard Tom Garrick (the TV network, as TV networks will do, kept showing Garrick's father to the point of making SU fans scream to end the madness).
Of course there was the fun of 1991 when Syracuse became the first No. 2 seed to lose to a No. 15 when Richmond pulled off the shocker at Cole Field House. My friends liked to remind me afterward by saying three words: They never led.
I was at that game, and I can still see Michael Edwards launching an ill-advised 3-pointer late in the game with Syracuse down by just one.
All part of the pain you put yourself through as a Syracuse fan.
Of course, part of the fun is imagining Syracuse going far in the NCAA Tournament, which usually comes back to haunt you when they lose. I'm not sure anyone but a few diehards who wear rose-colored glasses (or who are into revisionist history) thought Syracuse would contend for a national title this season.
No, all signs pointed for heartbreak in 2003-04, when Syracuse's young players all would have another year of experience (including Carmelo Anthony, who would of course stick around for his sophomore season). Plus, there was a good recruiting class on the way.
But a funny thing happened on the way to another disappointment.
Syracuse fans got to celebrate a national title.
Everyone I talked to really couldn't believe it. My brother called me from Bourbon Street, where I could hear the chants of "Let's Go Orange" in the background (see how Orangemen fans are -- Syracuse didn't need to "Go" anymore; they did it), and said with a bit of pride and amazement that he was wearing a Syracuse national championship T-shirt. Could I believe it?
No, I really couldn't. And it's still hard to fathom.
For 16 years, Syracuse fans were haunted by that Keith Smart jumper. Now, the image that will be everlasting is another jumper -- this one by Kansas' Michael Lee, who had his late 3-pointer swatted away by Hakim Warrick, who seemed to come out of nowhere.
A school celebrated. A community celebrated. And every future loss won't matter as much because this Syracuse team alleviated all that past pain with one amazing run.
Heck, I might even finally be able to watch that Keith Smart shot now.
Do you believe it?
