By Adam Butler
In 2009 I was going through a breakup and life just seemed to suck. Between not loving the girl, my job, my living situation, or maybe even myself, I jumped in my car and headed for the interstate. I had a long weekend and an open road, took a weekend away from all the familiarities that were keeping me down and I figured **** out. Or at least as well as a 24-year-old can. It was a vacation, sure, but I had to make new decisions in new places. I had to turn auto-pilot off amidst my quarter-life crisis (#Millenial).
The Colorado Buffaloes just landed in Hawaii. They’re staying in new beds and playing in new gyms with different ball racks and bench seating. They’ll take a new bus to the arena and play at some weird hours. The familiarities of Boulder and the Coors Event Center are 3,325 miles away. At 6-3 the Buffs are at their own quarter-life crisis. What team will they become? What team are they? Who is their leader and how will he lead? These are tough questions but vital to this season. We can only ask them so many times before the Buffs just are who they are. And as it stands right now, they seem to remain identity-less.
So they find themselves at the Diamond Head Classic with a terrific opportunity for self-discovery. They won’t have the familiarity crutch. The beauty of a tournament is that it forces immediacy. While the season seems like a marathon, a non-exempt event is a chance of this team to recognize a more immediate prize. Throw on their blinders and focus on the trophy before them. It’s no longer a question of will they be in the Top-25, or win the conference or make the tournament. They’ll be focusing on winning three games. Not a season, just a tournament.
Of course the converse holds true. There’s the possibility that playing in a tournament can expose the worst in a group. One bad result and poof the competitive fire is gone, the proverbial unraveling. Do I think that will happen? I don’t. But I could’ve taken that trip and moped about my dreary situation. I could have made no changes, risen to no challenge, and stayed the course of my unhappiness. I didn’t do that and I don’t think this basketball team will either.
They’re in unfamiliar territory and I think the discomfort will behoove them. There’s a new task at hand, an immediate goal with an immediate payout by which this team – they of an identeityless predicament – will be forced to galvanize. They’ve jumped in the car, headed out to make new decisions, to figure out their quarter life crisis.
In 2009 I was going through a breakup and life just seemed to suck. Between not loving the girl, my job, my living situation, or maybe even myself, I jumped in my car and headed for the interstate. I had a long weekend and an open road, took a weekend away from all the familiarities that were keeping me down and I figured **** out. Or at least as well as a 24-year-old can. It was a vacation, sure, but I had to make new decisions in new places. I had to turn auto-pilot off amidst my quarter-life crisis (#Millenial).
The Colorado Buffaloes just landed in Hawaii. They’re staying in new beds and playing in new gyms with different ball racks and bench seating. They’ll take a new bus to the arena and play at some weird hours. The familiarities of Boulder and the Coors Event Center are 3,325 miles away. At 6-3 the Buffs are at their own quarter-life crisis. What team will they become? What team are they? Who is their leader and how will he lead? These are tough questions but vital to this season. We can only ask them so many times before the Buffs just are who they are. And as it stands right now, they seem to remain identity-less.
So they find themselves at the Diamond Head Classic with a terrific opportunity for self-discovery. They won’t have the familiarity crutch. The beauty of a tournament is that it forces immediacy. While the season seems like a marathon, a non-exempt event is a chance of this team to recognize a more immediate prize. Throw on their blinders and focus on the trophy before them. It’s no longer a question of will they be in the Top-25, or win the conference or make the tournament. They’ll be focusing on winning three games. Not a season, just a tournament.
Of course the converse holds true. There’s the possibility that playing in a tournament can expose the worst in a group. One bad result and poof the competitive fire is gone, the proverbial unraveling. Do I think that will happen? I don’t. But I could’ve taken that trip and moped about my dreary situation. I could have made no changes, risen to no challenge, and stayed the course of my unhappiness. I didn’t do that and I don’t think this basketball team will either.
They’re in unfamiliar territory and I think the discomfort will behoove them. There’s a new task at hand, an immediate goal with an immediate payout by which this team – they of an identeityless predicament – will be forced to galvanize. They’ve jumped in the car, headed out to make new decisions, to figure out their quarter life crisis.