The New "Tough:" The Butler Bulldogs

Last year, the Butler Bulldogs made the NCAA title game (and almost won it) somewhat flukily, you might say. They had that big goofy white kid whose size, skill and shooting ability was a mismatch for basically every team in college basketball. Butler rode him, a great defense and a great coach to the title game and almost pulled off what would have been the best thing I had ever witnessed in sports—if only Gordon Hayward (goofy white kid referred to above) would have made that half-court shot to beat Duke. Then, Hayward was drafted. All that Butler had left was the defense and the coach, which isn't bad for a school that size, but surely their success in the coming year would be limited.

Fast forward to the present day. Butler proved everyone right by stumbling into the tournament as an 8 seed and then proceeded to prove everyone wrong by . . . getting to the Final Four?? Wait, what? The FINAL FOUR?!?! Was everybody wrong about this team? No, they weren't. Butler doesn't have the talent to be where they are. The Bulldogs are not big or intimidating physically, and they bypass mean faces and the self-aggrandizing gestures. But they remain the toughest team in college basketball, and that's the major reason you'll be watching them play tomorrow.

The theory that they seem to operate on is something like this: "There's no such thing as 'tough.'"

What I'm about to write may or may not make any sense, but I'm going to write it either way, so it looks like we're going to find out together. I used to get so nervous playing organized basketball that I could barely remember what happened in the game if you asked me. I didn't always play bad. I just played differently than I would in a pickup game, even against equal or greater talent. However, one thing was for sure: I had no chance of hitting a game-winning shot. The nerves might've focused me somewhat during the course of the game, but performing a finesse action amidst a fast-moving sport under pressure was simply not going to happen.

At some point I started thinking, "Why do I play that way?" The answer I came up with was some form of this: I cared too much. “So what does that mean?” I thought. ”Do I need to care less? That can't be right.” Well, it kind of was. The choice was either 1) play too fast but count my points and think about all of the consequences of everything I did in-game DURING the game or 2) use that mental energy to concentrate on actually playing the game and worry about my impact and all the implications of how I played later, if at all. If I caught myself thinking about how I'm playing in-game, that meant I needed to do more in the game, because I shouldn't have that much space for that type of thought. I tried to sacrifice my enjoyment and appreciation of anything I did well for actually doing well. Play increase and immediate-pleasure decrease. Can I explain this in any simpler terms?

Obviously that doesn't work every time for me. I'm not even really very good anyway. But my point is this: that's the type of thinking you need to have if you’re Butler. What is happening? How do we make it work? That's it. That sounds easy, but it's not. Every occurrence has a personal emotional reaction tied to it, whether it's big or small, positive or negative. In the case of the NCAA tournament, the emotional reactions tend to be big. Players often take some of the worst shots POSSIBLE to win the game . . . but the shots go in because the players taking them have seen a similar shot go in in a previous NCAA tournament. Their confidence seems to will the ball in.

Conversely, Kansas isn’t able to make a layup against VCU because they can just feel the upset coming, even though the only reason it's coming is because they feel it. Chicken/egg situation. That game wasn't won by superior talent or a better game plan; it was won by confident players vs. nervous players.

Back to Butler. They're not tough because they're powerful, aggressive or boisterous. They're tough because they don't let anything that doesn't matter affect them. Brain power spent on emotional responses to real-life occurrences is brain power wasted when it comes to sports, and when you win by margins as slim as the ones Butler continues to win by, the only way they could win those games, in my opinion, is if they are the only team that bypasses the emotional waste during the game. Butler does what's necessary. Period.

Am I idealizing this Butler team? Oh, probably. Brad Stevens is my hero . . . but he's my hero for a reason. Butler, as a team, is really smart, pretty skilled and really well coached, but the reason they're here is because they're tough.

Who Are These Guys?

The last few seasons have been about the "young guns" trying to take over the league from the Gen-X crew--especially this season. Up until now, they've failed. The champions' best players of the last three years: Kobe Bryant, Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, Ray Allen, Pau Gasol . . . wait, what year is this? What are LeBron and friends waiting for? Aren't they supposed to be better than these old guys? Let's take a step back for a minute.

After Michael Jordan retired from the Bulls and before LeBron James became a dominant force on the Cavaliers was probably one of the worst points in the league in every way. While the talent dipped because Jordan and friends had either retired or were getting old, the fame and money MJ had earned for all the big-time scorers in the league remained. The one-on-one style Jordan played with (according to the narrative) dominated, but as fame and huge contracts were just being handed out, the hard work and kill-yourself-to-succeed attitude of the older guys was gone. The beneficial personality flaws of the old guys were replaced with laziness and a sense of entitlement. Do you guys know what I'm saying? Some of these guys are still around. I'm talking about Vince Carter, Tracy McGrady and even Shaq and Kobe . . . and, my God, Allen Iverson!

Now, I like some of these guys, but they're all very needy. They either needed the money they got to not be in a position to go to prison or they needed the praise. None of these guys are secure enough in themselves to recognize their great talent and simply work on what will win. They never allowed themselves to be coached (willingly) or allowed themselves to admit that there were other players on the team who were their equals. Only Kobe and Shaq have won titles out of this group, and they feuded so much Shaq had to be traded. When you think about it, the fact that that duo could still be winning titles if they were playing together this season is insane and, frankly, pathetic.

While these guys were filling up the highlight reels, the Lakers (Phil Jackson), the Spurs (Greg Popovic) and the Pistons (Larry Brown) were winning titles. The Spurs had a star in Tim Duncan and the Pistons had no stars. NONE. A lot of times, if a team wins something with "no stars," in retrospect there were a few. The Pistons had none. The point I'm trying to make here is that this era missed the point. Tim Duncan was winning titles and being ridiculed for being boring, but the era was being defined by selfish, insecure players.

The LeBron era was supposed to save us from these jerks and the guys who learned from them. LeBron was going to save a city and run the show that is the league. Dwayne Wade was going to be unguardable for awhile and battle LBJ from down south. Dwight Howard was cast as the dominant big man of the era. Throw those guys in with all the great point guards sprinkled around the league and all the REALLY young guys of the present day . . . what a great time to be a fan! So what the hell happened? I wish I knew.

More specifically, what is wrong with the Heat? Well, plenty. First of all, do not compare the way this team was constructed to the modern day Celtics. Actually wait . . . let's do that!

Paul Pierce, Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen had all been humbled by their careers by the time they joined together. In fact, it's possible that Celtics team wouldn't have been as good if they were all together earlier in their careers when they were "better." They were done with themselves. Paul Pierce's flaw is laziness. This is instantly cured by Kevin Garnett's enthusiasm and leadership. Also, Garnett's flaw is that he is NOT calm in the moment, especially a big moment. Well, Pierce is. Throw in an unselfish and hardworking all-time great three-point shooter and you’ve got something. Let's not forget that none of this works without the youth. The talented, young, impressionable Rondo and Perkins were indoctrinated into a way of life by their veteran teammates and Doc Rivers (who is PERFECT for this team, by the way).

The Heat, on the other hand, also joined a great shooting guard, a small forward and a power forward, only younger, but the specifics don't work out. Wade, James and Bosh are all better with the ball constantly in their hands. That is to say, if you have a team of average players, nobody is better at making that team OK than these guys. It's becoming clear that this might not be the best way to define how good a player is, but a separate talent in itself.

These three players are also very much NOT over themselves. Once again, this is an aspect of a person that is helpful when it's one man against the world but perhaps not in the situation in which they find themselves now. The Heat's peripheral players suck, and their coach is Erik Spoelstra.

With all that said, the Heat are talented enough to win the title this year based solely on those three guys. They know that--that's why they joined together. But, to win a title, they might have to find that through-the-wall effort. There's a point in competition when you try your hardest, and when it doesn't work, you give up. It goes against instinct to keep trying when you get no positive feedback, but, if they want to win, the Heat might have to have faith that they will, eventually, if they just keep it up. These guys have never done this. Bosh goes without saying. He's a loser, period. But Wade and LeBron have always had the talent to wait until they were just "feeling it" and ride that to the win, or give up, because they can always use their teammates' mediocrity as scapegoats.

Can Miami figure this out? And maybe more importantly, who am I describing here? Are this era's stars just the same as the last ones, but with more talent and bigger smiles? With everyone giving half effort because they aren't playing where they want, is there any doubt? The stars in position to win look like they have no idea how to deal with adversity, because throughout their whole lives their talent has won the day. It's a scary situation.

It's going to be hard for the Heat to avoid winning a title at some point. The Celtics, Lakers and Spurs are going to run out of gas eventually and Miami might be all that's left. The real accomplishment would be to win it this year, kill Generation X and show the world that this generation understands what you need to be a champion.

These guys are still super talented and charismatic. I just sometimes have trouble figuring out who exactly it is that I'm watching.