Thanks to a rod-and-cone deficiency and (to me, at least) two strikingly similar uniform choices, my color-blind ass spent the first half of the Wisconsin basketball team’s game at Illinois last week trying to ascertain exactly who the Badgers were. Judging from the Badgers’ 65-57 loss there, and their 71-59 loss to Michigan Sunday, UW seems to be attempting to figure out exactly the same thing whenever they hit the road.
Dave Mader was the best player on the floor for much of the Badgers’ stinker in Ann Arbor Sunday. Allow me to say that again. Dave Mader was the best player on the floor. Now, I love Mader, always have. Nicest guy you could meet. Calves as big as half-barrels. And for as much grief as he grabs, he’s had some great — and I’m not even exaggerating here — great performances for the Badgers, most notably his virtually virtuoso performance in their upset of Illinois in 2002. He sparked ’em. Got the crowd going. Hit some big jumpers. Ended up scoring nine points, one off his career high. But while he had the game of his life, and in a huge spot, Mader was never the best player out there that day. You could go with Devin Harris, Mike Wilkinson, or Charlie Wills on that one. That’s pretty much the way it should be. Mader can contribute; he shouldn’t star.
An on-fire Mader or not, the Badgers weren’t supposed to win that one against Illinois. Oh, no, no, no. Huge upset. First home game of the Big Ten season, the national press doing a serious polish-job on Chief Illiniwek’s totem pole. Frank Williams and Cory Bradford weren’t supposed to drop that one. You could say that it’s the game in which these Badgers — of Bo Ryan and Devin Harris, and yes, Mader –became legit, nationally. Before that one, they rarely got a second glance, at least not outside of everyone’s favorite hand-shaped state. Since, they’ve been getting some different looks from everybody. Sultry looks. The I-want-you-in-my-tourney-or-on-my-schedule looks. The Badgers were suddenly sexy. I guess it was kind of like a basketball boob job.
Thing is, that game was at home. Two years ago, it was a pretty big thing for the Badgers to beat the Illini anywhere, even at the Kohl Center. Twenty-six consecutive conference wins there later, and home games these days are about as suspenseful as watching “Miracle.” Everyone knows what’s going to happen, except for the guy who just slipped out of that 25-year coma. Badgers win big. Real big. They’ve averaged a 20.5–point margin of victory in those 26.
In this Bo Ryan renaissance, the Badgers are expected to win at home, and with good reason. It takes a lot to take ’em down, like 47 points from Lynn Greer or having (I’m pretty sure) Superman’s second cousin Josh Howard on your team. Bo’s colossal Kohl Center consistency has set up these Dukian expectations of home-court perfection, made it seem like a home loss would be equitable to death by tub-o’-leeches. I’m sure it’s a problem he loves dealing with.
More importantly, though, they expect to win at home, Bo’s boys themselves. You can see it. Everyone looks looser, more in-flow than they do on the road. The ball seems to move a little quicker, the shots seem to come a little easier, everyone seems to be looking for their offense a little more. The shots seem to be the right shots, the ones Bo’s swing offense is supposed to produce: one-on-one post-ups, kickouts, layups off backcuts, and when a zone comes up, the threes seem to go down a little easier.
But then the Badgers hit the road, and everything goes haywire. Just friggin’ nuts. Thirty-five minutes of contested jumpers, rejections off dribble-drives, and off-balance threes, followed by another five of Devin taking over and trying to pull it out. But it’s too late. Total chaos usually ensues, in which the Badgers frantically try to score 12 points each possession and just end up turning the ball over.
I think I’ve figured it out, and it’s pretty simple. These Badgers aren’t a comeback team. They just ain’t. And it’s just plain tough to get — and a whole lot tougher to hold — a lead on the road in the Big Ten, or anywhere, for that matter. Right now, the Badgers don’t have enough firepower to play poorly early on and then stage a miraculous comeback on the road. As good as Devin is — and holy jeez, is he good — it’s tough to get the scoring going after being the pass-first point guard for a half and a half. Devin seems to relish being that set-up guy, and that works great when he’s at the Kohl Center, where he can defy what every coach has ever said, and just flip that switch and become unstoppable whenever he pleases.
That switch seems to short out on the road, where in conference, Devin shoots 41 percent — 29 percent from three — compared with 52 percent, and 47 percent from three, at home. And it’s not just that he’s comfortable with the Kohl Center rims: hitting shots is a lot tougher when you’re down by 13 instead of hammering down lead-extending breakaway dunks in front of the Wisconsin faithful.
Another problem: free throws, a huge part of the Badgers’ offensive attack, don’t come quite as easily away from home. Devin — who gets to the line more than anyone in the conference — has attempted 57 foul shots in six Big Ten home games, and only 33 in six on the road. Not knocking Devin, but that’s just how it works: you’re not going to get the same calls on the road you get at home. Just aren’t. Charges turn into blocks, blocks turn into hacks, and a bunch of hacks (Northwestern, anyone?) somehow turn into a team that can beat the Badgers.
The Big Ten title is coming down to the last two weeks of the regular season. Beating Penn State and Purdue at the Kohl Center this week will put the Badgers in position to at least tie for the conference lead with wins at Michigan State and Indiana, which are — for most teams — much tougher places to win than Evanston, or even Ann Arbor. Somehow, the Badgers need to remember to pack their killer instinct and bring it with them (just like I’d like them to do with their white jerseys when they stop by Champaign next year) if they want any shot at a remarkable third Big Ten title in three seasons under Bo.
