http://www.kansascity.com/180/v-print/story/565754.html
SAN ANTONIO | As soon as Mario Chalmers’ shot went up in this wild Kansas-Memphis championship game, you could feel that crazy twist in your stomach. It’s going in. It’s the same feeling that every sports fan has in the last second, when the last Hail Mary is thrown, when the last fly ball is hit, when the last putt is curling toward the hole.
Of course, most of the time the Hail Mary is knocked away, the last fly ball dies at the warning track, the last putt breaks left of the hole. And the last shot usually hits the rim and bounces away. Great finishes, like straight flushes, rarely come through.
Only, when Chalmers shot the ball — well, the feeling was alive. It’s going in. This game had been over. Memphis had led by nine with 2:12 left. Kansas had started fouling. The rest of the game seemed as scripted as a sitcom. Kansas would foul, Memphis would make enough free throws, the Jayhawks would lose valiantly.
Then again, people said that free throws might come back to haunt Memphis. Right? People had been saying that all year. The Tigers had vowed to solve the problem, and they made their first two free throws.
Then Memphis’ Chris Douglas-Roberts missed one. Then he missed a shot. Then he missed two more free throws. And suddenly the game had started to turn back, Kansas’ Russell Robinson made a huge steal, Sherron Collins made a huge three-pointer, Darrell Arthur made a huge shot — well, you know they’re all huge. And Kansas cut into the lead.
With 10 seconds left, Memphis’ Derrick Rose — who had been absolutely magnificent, it’s no wonder that some NBA teams are now talking about him as the No. 1 overall pick ahead of Michael Beasley — had two free throws that would have put away the game. He missed the first one. Memphis only led by three. There was still that crazy hope sports fans have.
The Jayhawks rushed the ball up the floor. It seemed likely that Memphis would try to foul to prevent Kansas from shooting the three-pointer. The Tigers didn’t. The ball worked around to Mario Chalmers, who came off a screen, and he had a hand in his face and he fired a very high three-pointer.
You know, heartbreak has followed this Kansas program like a stray dog. There was the three-overtime loss in ’57 with Wilt Chamberlain at the center. There was the 1997 loss to Arizona when Kansas had, perhaps, the best team in its history. There was the championship-game loss to Syracuse when Nick Collison, as solid a player as the Jayhawks have ever had, could not make a free throw.
And now there was this team, this gifted, intense and tough team that Bill Self had put together. These Jayhawks could play fast with North Carolina, and they could play slow with Davidson. They could beat you with speed, with defense, with athletic ability, with precision passing, with high-flying dunks.
For most of this game, the Jayhawks had done what many thought they could not do — they played Memphis’ talent even, they had matched all of Memphis’ athletic ability, they had run the floor with Memphis, they had flown above the rim with Memphis.
And now, Chalmers shot the ball over two outstretched hands, and the ball was in the air, the shot was heading for the basket, and that feeling was all over the Alamodome. It’s going in.
The basketball swished through.
It is now the greatest shot in Kansas basketball history. That’s all. After it went through, Kansas could not lose. There was no way. Memphis’ great players had been knocked out by the shot. The Jayhawks rolled in the overtime, winning 75-68. Confetti fell from the ceiling. There were tears. Hugs. More tears.
It had been a long time at Kansas. It had been a long time since there had been a champion in the Heartland. “This is for you,” Kansas coach Bill Self said to
