Monday, January 19, 2009

It was a program win, of sorts


January 18, 2009
Jim Comparoni of SpartanMag.com


EAST LANSING - This was a program win of a different kind.

Michigan State's 63-57 defeat of Illinois on Saturday was not a landmark victory. It won't serve as a turning point for the team or entire program the way a "program win" is supposed to.

But it was a program win in that the program itself - the fans, the traditions - carried the Spartans to victory.

Illinois needed to beat more than just the guys in the Michigan State uniforms, Saturday. The Illini also had to beat the emotion of Morris Peterson's return, and his family, and his jersey being raised to the rafters, and the impact it had on the Breslin Center crowd, and on Marquise Gray.

Izzo said it had been five or six years since Breslin was as emotional as it was on Saturday. I think he's wrong. It's been longer than that.

Izzo's eyes welled up when Peterson's No. 42 was raised and retired. And they welled up again in the postgame press conference when he talked about this day, this crowd, this energy.

"It was like old times," he said.

As part of the ceremony, the Breslin crowd watched a superbly-produced video montage of Peterson's greatest hits.

The night before, Izzo took a copy of that video home. His wife, Lupe, showed the video to their kids. Izzo's son, Steven, wasn't yet born when Peterson threw down that alley-oop jam late in the Iowa State game, at the Regional Finals in 2000. Izzo's daughter, Raquel, was barely out of kindergarten at the time.

"My wife said it best when we were watching the video," Izzo said. "She looked at Raquel and said, 'If it wasn't for Morris, we probably wouldn't live like we live.'"

Peterson still thanks Izzo for offering him a scholarship out of Flint Northwestern back in the fall of 1995, when Peterson wasn't a blue chipper, and neither was Izzo.

Peterson committed to Izzo before Izzo had ever coached a game. Peterson was part of a three-man class that included Antonio Smith and Jason Klein. Smith and Klein were at Breslin Saturday, too, with Smith wearing a Peterson NBA jersey.

Peterson wanted to be a part of what Izzo was building. Smith and Klein were rated high as recruits. Peterson was the quirky question mark.

That was an era when Izzo was practically killing himself, trying to beat Michigan for top in-state talent when history and the FBI would prove the Wolverines were paying players. Izzo thought he had a shot at Albert White and Robert Traylor. When he didn't get them, Michigan State signed Smith, Klein and Peterson.

Would there have been room for Peterson if Izzo had gotten his wish and signed those guys who went to Michigan? Probably not. But this game of basketball has had a way of blessing Izzo at times when he thought he was cursed. He got Peterson. And he thanks the basketball gods every night for curses like that.

THE PETERSON PROJECT

It took a lot of work, discipline, tough words and expensive lessons to yield the Peterson we came to know. For Izzo's first three games as head coach, at the Maui Invitational late in the fall of 1995, Izzo left Peterson in East Lansing rather than letting the freshman accompany the team to Hawaii. Peterson had missed some classes. Izzo had warned him. And then Izzo had to make a stand.

A year later, we heard Izzo say things like, "We are still trying to find anyone on campus that Morris can guard."

Then, two years later as a redshirt sophomore, Peterson broke his non-shooting hand while landing awkwardly after finishing, ironically, an alley-oop during Michigan State's victory over Gonzaga in the annual holiday classic tournament at Breslin.

Contrary to revisionist legend, Peterson was a pretty good player before he broke that hand, before he wore "the club." He scored 17 points in his first game as a redshirt freshman in 1996. He was inconsistent as heck, and pretty soft. But he could score, and the Spartans needed his scoring badly.

The Monday after the Gonzaga game, I remember Izzo delivering the news at a press conference that Peterson had broken a bone in his hand and would be out indefinitely. When Izzo said those words, I thought the injury would cost the team a few games, just enough to miss out on the NCAA Tournament for a third straight year. I remember exactly what I was thinking, that he and this team wouldn't be able to overcome the loss of Peterson. And it would cost Izzo his job.


I looked around the room. I happened to notice MSU's women's basketball coach Karen Langeland's reaction to the news. She shook her head in sympathetic disbelief. I suspect she might have thought the same thing I was thinking.

But the injury wasn't quite as bad as first believed. Peterson could play, but he would have to wear a cast. MSU lost two of its next three anyway, and I was more sure than ever that Izzo wouldn't survive.

Peterson fancied himself as a tall ball handler and scorer. But he could do neither with the cast on his hand. He had to finally focus on defense and rebounding if he wanted to remain in the playing group. He did, and when the cast came off later that season, Peterson had transformed as a player. Flint toughness had apparently been lying dormant within him. And MSU came out of nowhere to win Izzo's first Big Ten title that year.

At some point during that season, as rumors of his inevitable firing subsided, Izzo began referring affectionately to the cast as "the club." Izzo told MSU trainers to save the club. Put it somewhere. Lock it up. Keep it.

To Izzo, "the club" meant something. It symbolized so much. It was another one of those mysterious curses that Izzo would later be thankful for.

Peterson became All-Big Ten as a junior while serving as the sixth man. Izzo still uses the Peterson example when motivating players to compete hard when coming off the bench. It's part of the fabric of this program.

Izzo gave "the club" back to Peterson, Saturday, during the ceremony. Peterson flashed that goofy smile in thanks. Always a button-pusher, Izzo enlisted Gray to hold a framed Peterson jersey and present it to the Peterson family, his fellow Flint residents.

Then Gray took of his warm-ups, and got ready to play.

SATURDAY'S SIXTH MEN

Gray checked in just two minutes into the game, fittingly as the sixth man. After one possession, he looked charged up. After two possessions, he had an offensive rebound.

On the third possession, he set a perfect, heavy, Anagonye-sized screen on Alex Legion, knocking the Illinois player off-balance and careening toward the baseline.

An instant later, Gray received a pass and hit a power lay-up while being fouled. It was as forceful a sequence as he has ever had, and a one-clip highlight that could stand up to anything Smith or Andre Hutson ever did. Seriously.

In celebrating the play, Gray snapped his chin up and down, nodding fiercely as he bang-stepped toward Delvon Roe for a chest bump that might have collapsed the lung of a weaker man. Then Gray went nose-to-nose with Travis Walton for a volley of That's what I'm talking 'bouts.

Izzo crossed his arms, smiled, nodded approvingly with eyes watering again. He knew he had a different Gray on this day. Cue your DVRs to the 15:49 mark of the first half and watch it again. It's worth it. There was so much human spirit packed into those few seconds, so much more than just basketball.

I turned to SpartanMag.com associate editor Paul Konyndyk and said, "Gray is different today, for one reason and one reason only. Because he's playing in front of Morris Peterson. And Izzo knows it."


You'd have to know Gray to understand, and you'd have to know Flint to understand, and you would have to understand the sense of responsibility that Izzo and former players instill in the current players. It all came together and produced a perfectly-frenzied Gray.

Izzo pushed Gray's buttons the way he pushed everyones' buttons a week earlier for the Kansas game. Don't look now, but Izzo might be in the middle of orchestrating quite a symphony this season.

Gray is a great guy with a great heart. But he hasn't seemed driven during his four-and-a-half years at MSU. He is not a competitive killer. Maybe personal goals don't motivate him. But you give him a sense of duty to honor a guy like Peterson and there aren't many man-made walls that can contain him.

About 18 hours earlier, Izzo had a sense that this might be coming. With Peterson in the room, the coach had one of those Come-to-Izzo moments with Gray. They talked for more than an hour.

When Izzo talks to Gray, it's more than coach-to-player. It's mentor-to-pupil. Izzo has known Gray since he was a pre-teen. This is a public university and Gray grew up in Izzo's district.

Back in '96 when Peterson was the target of many Izzo lectures, it was mentor-to-pupil back then, too, but Izzo hadn't yet established the thick credibility that he has today. Peterson believed him anyway, and followed.

Peterson has accumulated in his heart and soul more than 14 years of pro-Izzo testimonials. So have Smith and Mateen Cleaves. When they tell a young man from their city that they can trust Izzo, and to do what he says, it strikes a chord of local lineage that few programs can match. This was a precious resource on Saturday.

With Peterson watching, and Gray in sky-walk mode, Izzo called upon Gray to check into the game earlier than usual. And all Izzo could do was worn people to get out of the way when Gray went to the rim because he might bring the backboard down with him.

Gray had nine points and five rebounds in nine minutes in the first half, marking probably the best half of basketball he has had as a collegian. Capitalizing on Gray's horsepower, Izzo called for an alley-oop lob for Gray. Gray caught Draymond Green's pass near the rim, but Illinois had the play well-scouted, with Calvin Brock sagging down low. No matter. Gray elevated and slammed it anyway, and he might have dunked Brock through the rim along with the ball, if Brock had gotten any closer.

Still, Michigan State trailed by seven at the break, making one wonder what the score might have been if Gray hadn't been so strong.

"The bright spots of the day were, in order, Morris Peterson, our fans, and Marquise Gray," Izzo said.

Gray finished with 11 points and 6 rebounds. MSU didn't have many quality individual performances on this day. But Gray was one of them. The Breslin crowd carried the rest.

Three times midway through the second half, MSU cut Illinois' lead to a single point. And three times the Spartans failed to produce the go-ahead points as the Breslin crowd remained coiled and ready to explode.

The build-up created a powder keg. When MSU finally took the lead on a Raymar Morgan free throw with 4:48 left, the place erupted. When Kalin Lucas hit two more free throws, there was hysteria. And when Walton fed Morgan for a lay-up while being fouled to make it 59-54, it felt like a championship moment. Precious few times has Breslin been that loud, with fans jumping around.

"We didn't play good and won," Izzo said. "But let's face it. That wouldn't have happened on the road. That happened because of the fans in the stands.

"But we sometimes forget that back in the championship years the fans in the stands won us a lot of games. Today, the home court deserved a lot of credit."

Izzo knew the Peterson ceremony would be awesome. He had a feeling Gray would be great. But the fans were a pleasant surprise.

Izzo had hoped to see the place hop again, during some game at some point, and see them party like it was 1999. But deep down, he probably wasn't sure if his home crowd would ever have the innocent exuberance it had back in Peterson's era. But on this day, it did, for this program win.

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