INDIANAPOLIS — The final blow to Indiana Gov. Mitch Daniels’ shoulder landed as Butler star Gordon Hayward’s halfcourt miracle missile tracked dead-on towards the Bulldogs’ basket in Lucas Oil Stadium.
“I get pretty excitable during the game,” said Indiana high school legend Bobby Plump. “I’ll have to apologize to the governor, but, gosh, I sure thought that shot was going in.”
Everyone not wearing Duke blue Monday night wanted Hayward’s Hoosiers Heave to go in.
Everyone not wearing Duke blue wanted to say they were in the building for the greatest ending to the greatest game, capping the greatest story, in NCAA Tournament history.
Everyone, especially Hayward — the kid from Brownsburg, Ind., who attended Easter Sunday services the day before the NCAA final — wanted that shot to go in.
“The last shot, it was just — I mean, it was a last-second shot,” Hayward said. “Um, I don’t know, it missed.”
Yes, it missed. Barely. It hit the backboard, hit the front of the rim, hesitated for a nanosecond, and bounced away with Butler’s miracle, Indiana’s miracle, America’s miracle.
“You know, when he let it go, I said, ‘Oh my God, he can hit it,’ ” Plump said. “Unfortunately it wasn’t Hollywood writing the script.”
No, there was no screenwriter on the court, just two marvelously competitive, classy teams with coaches who care more for the players than their own legacies. Duke’s 61-59 win was great theater.
There is no shame in losing when you leave your heart, soul and sweat on the court. There is no reason to equate a loss with failure, not after the way Butler and Duke played.
The only regret the day after Duke’s riveting victory, which gave the Blue Devils and coach Mike Krzyzewski a fourth national title, is that some of the Bulldogs don’t see themselves as winners. How could that be? How could a team that won 25 straight games, went undefeated in the Horizon League, beat the likes of Syracuse, Kansas State and Michigan State and took Duke to the last shot, think that the final score of the last game is what should be remembered from this against-the-odds season?
“For me, it’s going to be the loss,” Hayward said when asked what he will remember. “Hate losing.”
If you don’t hate losing, you don’t have a champion’s DNA. But if you equate losing with being a loser, you don’t stand a chance of being happy in this world. Butler didn’t win the national championship, but consider what it won:
The nation knows not just where Butler is but what it is. It is a small school in the heartland where athletes are students, and students are valued as much as athletes.
“I think it’s a great example of a school of everyone getting treated equally,” guard Shelvin Mack said. “We have no special needs that any other student doesn’t get. I’m grateful to be a part of something special like that.”
Duke is a champion today; Butler is a winner. Their story has been read, seen and adored by the American public. Kids across America will be wearing Butler T-shirts because we know winners when we see one.
Butler coach Brad Stevens was asked what he thought this team’s success means for Butler’s future: “Well, I guess my question back was: Can it get better than these guys?”
No. Sure hope they see a winner when they look in the mirror.