In the minds of anyone who watches college basketball, NCAA Tournament losses stand apart.
They are torn to pieces, broken down and strained for meaning, all in pursuit of the question ""why is my team out?"" With the bludgeoning a white-hot Cornell squad delivered to Bo Ryan's Badgers, comparisons with the season-ending losses of the past have abounded as the process has been running its course.
The most vitriolic response is always the same: Ryan's squads are not and won't ever be ready to surprise in March. The criticisms are always met by the flurry of excuses about consistently meeting hot teams, injuries or plain old bad luck.
And the murky truth is somewhere in the chasm between.
To start, making a set of those final games is a bit disingenuous. Their proper context is the seasons in which they were played, each with its own quirks and journeys. But few are content with that logic, especially when a certain set of numbers is brought up.
Three times in the last four years the Badgers, as a top-4 seed, have fallen to a double-digit seed coming from a nonpower conference. Ryan is 1-6 against 1 through 8 seeds (11-3 against bottom-half seeds).
Style could be the first prominent factor in explaining this. In the dance, referees are more reticent to blow their whistles, following the ""let 'em play"" school of thought.
Up until two years ago this was an issue, because Ryan's offense was reliant on getting to the free-throw line. The old mantra of hitting more free throws than an opponent takes just won't work when a whistle from the official is hard to come by. Complicating matters more was the absence of an absurdly talented big-name Badger that could force opponents to commit fouls that wouldn't get ignored (see: Sean May in 2005, Al Horford in 2007 and Jason Williams in 2001).
In the last two seasons Wisconsin's offense has shifted more to the perimeter, an advent that could have helped them in the postseason, since four hot shooting games could mean the Final Four. But running into a much hotter team (say a Cornell squad shooting 60 percent) ruins that just a little bit.
On the other end, the refs' change in the postseason also hurts Wisconsin. Almost every team that recently won the tournament has played a brand of pressure defense, a task that becomes even easier to execute when refs grow hesitant.
Against Cornell the Badger D (which emphasizes not committing fouls and does not attack too much on the perimeter) could not pressure around the arc even when it tried. The result: Cornell attacked with impunity and preposterous efficiency.
Perhaps, in another sense, this lack of consistent deep tourney runs may just be a symptom of the even-keeled nature of Ryan's program. Since the Badgers emerged from nearly 50 years as a doormat in the early '90s, there have been three distinct eras, each with their own flavor and approach.
First came the Stu Jackson/Stan Van Gundy period, where the Badgers boasted big-name talent (Michael Finley, Rashard Griffith) but were only mildly successful as a team. Then came the Dick Bennett/Brad Soderberg era, when the team ran a system, had little distinguished talent and was mostly unremarkable. But mostly isn't all, and that one moment came when an 8-seeded squad that finished sixth in the Big Ten made a miracle run to the Final Four on the power of gritty defense and a hot shooting run (a year later they lost to a 12 seed in the first round, so consistent they were not).
Ryan's teams always win at least 19 games, usually more than 20, always go to the tournament in March and always boast balance and good, but rarely great, talent. The lows are never that low, and maybe the price is that the highs are never that high.
Now, many fans won't buy this because expectations always expand. A great accomplishment is seen less as something to be proud of, and more as a stepping stone to something bigger.
The quote that might well sum it up? ""I'd trade it all for a little more.""
Here's the deal: The last loss of the season almost always sucks. Unless a team makes a miracle run, at least 80 percent of the 64 losing fan bases feel like their team could have done better.
Kansas won a title just two years ago, and you can bet they're still pissed about a second-round exit this year.
Now, the future is still uncertain. Maybe next year the Badgers get hot, put together a Final Four drive and end this ""Bo can't make noise in March"" mantra once and for all. Maybe Ryan pulls in an unreal talent (he was close on Manny Harris and Evan Turner) and signals an end to the stereotype of Wisconsin as a slow, unathletic team.
For now, Badger fans have to bear the burden of a team that constantly succeeds but rarely shocks. They'll have to suffer an unprecedented run in school history all because it gives them a hunger for more.
It's almost unfair they get a program like this.
Is it unconscionable, unfathomable and near criminal that Bo has not been to the Final Four in nine whole seasons? Share your rage-filled disappointment with Ben at breiner@wisc.edu.
