When I watch the Red Storm take on the Badgers tomorrow, I will be filled with bitter and painful memories. You see, about seven months ago I set out on an adventure in New York to locate St. John’s University, a school that always intrigued me when I heard March Madness announcers analyzing it every year in the NCAA tournament.

With my friend visiting me for the weekend in New York and a rainy 105 degree day to waste, I thought “why not find the university that housed the likes of John Wallace?”

So on that hot July day, two Midwestern girls left the comforts of Brooklyn Heights and headed to SJU.

Upon arriving in the appropriate borough, Erica and I departed from our mode of transportation and immediately pulled out our map to muster up directions to our destination. With a plan of action in tact, we struggled through the shady area of the small island, kept our heads up and walked straight ahead . . . for miles.

After about half an hour we looked at each other, sweat pouring down our faces, and inquired whether or not the other wanted to continue on the adventure. Not wanting to make the walk back to where we originated from, we kept going.

With the afternoon heat beating down on us, our optimistic attitudes started to alter as we continued to search for the home of the Red Storm. Aggravated, we started asking people on the streets how to get to St. John’s and how far away it was. To this question, that we deemed to be relatively easy, we were alarmed by the responses of “I don’t know,’ and “There’s no college here.” Erica and I wondered how people could be unaware of a university that, according to the map, existed only about a mile from their residences.

Finally, while taking a break in a tiny park, we found what seemed to be the only local who was aware of his surroundings. He gave us distinct directions and promised us it wasn’t too far off.

But oh, empty promises. Either Erica and I were unable to follow the simple directions or the man wasn’t as bright as we thought, because our search for SJU wasn’t nearly over. Still wandering the streets aimlessly, Erica and I started getting desperate for help. We asked an old woman that we walked passed, who then took us to her son’s house to have him give us directions–a shortcut, no less. He did lead us in the right direction and we could sense we were on the right track. Hey, at least he’d heard of SJU.

At this point we had been walking for almost two hours, and while the heat, fatigue and crabbiness should have been enough to send us home to Brooklyn, our determination was stronger than those elements. We were going to see SJU no matter what the costs.

Following our new directions, we ran into two women playing with their toddlers in their front yards and once again asked for directions. Amazingly, the woman led us through her back yard and onto the SJU campus.

We had made it. After over two hours of wandering the streets in search of the home of the Red Storm, we found ourselves walking around the campus, following the sidewalks that connected each building.

Except there was a problem. This particular campus consisted of about three or four buildings. As we stood in the center of the campus, the two of us looked at each other and burst out laughing–something wasn’t right and we knew it immediately. After torturing ourselves all day just to see the campus that housed a good basketball team, we had traveled to the wrong borough. We had taken the free ferry to Staten Island and the main campus, the area that actually does house the basketball team, is located in Queens.

After an all-day walk and a half-hour ferry ride, we had nothing to show for our journey. However, as far as Erica and I are concerned, we saw St. John’s University–only it wasn’t the campus we intended on seeing.

So when I watch the Badgers take on the Red Storm tomorrow, I will look bitterly at the advertisements showing the supposedly beautiful campus in Jamaica, N.Y. But at the same time I will know that for one long day I bonded with St. John’s University-Staten Island and the people that reside there.