Not a fun way to lose

Last weekend started pretty uneventful. My son, Sam, and I drove to Kearney, Nebraska to see Northwest Missouri State open its season against Josh Lamberson’s Nebraska-Kearney Lopers.

I’m an old Loper, although I’m pretty sure it was an Antelope when I graduated from Kearney State 42 years ago.

The whole night was uneventful, unless you count the anxiety from road construction and breaking most of two states’ speeding laws. I wasn’t a good mentor to a 15-year-old boy learning to drive.

Rich Wright’s defense was just as good as or better than last year while shutting out the Lopers. Kenny Gordon, Rich’s assistant last year and now the UNK defensive coordinator, put a really good defense on the field. The score might not indicate it, but Kenny’s defense made going tough on the Bearcats’ high-powered offense.

Sam and I barely made it back to Maryville by 2:30 a.m. Sam even got himself out of bed by himself and we walked into Maryville High School by 7:30 a.m. Not much sleep, but we both managed to stay awake while the Spoofhound football team demolished previously undefeated Chillicothe. Nine different runners had the Spoofhounds running circles around the Hornets.

It looked like a ho-hum Labor Day Weekend, but then the Royals were swept by the White Sox. I would panic, but they still had a 12-game lead in their division. However, Saturday afternoon changed ho-hum to “How could that happen?”

I must admit, I still pay attention to what happens to Nebraska Cornhusker football. As a kid, I attended every Cornhusker game while selling backrests to the old season ticket owners. Sam bleeds black and gold and when he yells, “M-I-Z”, I’ll return a “Z-O-U.” The trouble is I still have corn cobs coming out of my ears.

I’m sure you have seen the highlight or lowlight, depending on your allegiance. BYU beat Nebraska with a Hail Mary pass on the last play of the game. When your favorite team gets beat like that, it’s similar to a punch in the gut. I pouted around the rest of the night.

It isn’t like it’s the first time those kinds of things happen. Just take Missouri football for example. Thanks to an umpiring crew mostly from Nebraska, Colorado defeated the Tigers, 33-31, by scoring on the last play of the game on October 6, 1990. The Buffs scored on a fifth down. When the Colorado quarterback spiked the ball to stop the clock, the down marker wasn’t changed.

Even though the mistake was discovered, the officials let the touchdown stand. Colorado went on to win the National Championship and Missouri went on to have a .500 season.

Probably a harder punch in the gut came seven years later on the same field in Columbia, Missouri. Again it was the last play of the game. Scott Frost, now the offensive coordinator for the Oregon Ducks, threw a low pass that the receiver kicked into the air.

It looked like a Missouri win since it was winning 38-31 at the time. Suddenly, Cornhusker Matt Davison came out of nowhere to make a diving catch. The game went into overtime and the Cornhuskers prevailed, 45-38. Guess what? Nebraska won the national championship that year, just like Colorado seven years earlier.

As bad as I felt for Josh Lamberson when Northwest ruined his coaching debut last week, I felt worse for him and the Bearcats in his last career collegiate game. All the Bearcats needed was a touchdown in their final drive against Grand Valley State.

Josh had driven his offense into the red zone. He had thrown a perfect pass into the end zone that sadly was dropped by his receiver. He had one last chance. Josh’s protection broke down and he had to scramble for his life.

Just before he was swarmed by the Grand Valley defenders, he spotted a receiver across the field. The pass was caught but the receiver was tackled two yards short of the goal line. Josh and Northwest were denied a national championship.

It’s not like my basketball teams are exempt from last-second, heartbreaking losses. There is one that still stands out even though it happened in January of 1984. I was coaching at Wilber-Clatonia High School. My girls’ team was playing Pius X in Lincoln.

Despite losing my best two players with fouls, we held a three-point lead with seven seconds to go. We had the ball out of bounds on the Pius X side of the court. Back in 1984, there was no three-point line. Pius X was out of timeouts. We couldn’t lose.

Just to make sure, I called timeout and set up an out of bounds play. I had two messages: throw it toward our goal, and don’t foul if the ball is intercepted. We couldn’t lose.

My inbounder threw the ball to half court where it was intercepted. No big deal because my final words coming out of the huddle were, “If you foul, I’ll kill you!” One particular sophomore didn’t understand the word “kill.” As the Pius X player threw up a 40-foot, two-handed push shot, my sophomore fouled the shooter like she was trying to block her into the bleachers.

The 40-foot shot hit the back of the rim twice and dropped through. Of course, she hit the free throw and my Wolverines lost by 10 points in overtime. That sophomore lived despite my previous threats and went on to become an All-Stater. It makes for a great story, but it’s never a fun way to lose.