OMAHA, Neb. -- For most casual hoops fans, especially those outside of the nation's heartland, the Missouri Valley Conference is more of a theoretical basketball construct than an actual league. Each March, great teams magically emerge from Midwestern cornfields, striking fear into the power schools from the East and West coasts.
Despite this year's perfect storm of five Tournament-quality teams, the MVC is neither a well-kept secret or a shocking surprise. The league has sent multiple member schools to the NCAA Tournament for seven consecutive years, and has posted seven first-round wins and two advancements to the Sweet 16 (Missouri State in 1999, Southern Illinois in 2002) in the past decade. It's also a conference of great parity -- eight of the MVC's 10 current members have gone to the Tournament within the past decade, and a ninth (Wichita State) was invited to the last three NITs.
The MVC is basketball heaven, but it's also Iowa -- Cedar Falls (Northern Iowa) and Des Moines (Drake), to be exact. The conference's full territory is made up of those central and rectangular states, a network of dusty cities connected by long, grey ribbons of interstate highway. It's a slice of America that's 600 miles broad and 475 wide, one that overlaps and coexists with Big Ten and Big 12 country.
In short, the Missouri Valley is a mapful of hardscrabble Corn Belt communities and hard-nosed high school talent, a place where circumstances converge to create a brand of college basketball unlike any other. And in order to properly appreciate the culture of the conference, you've got to drive its roads.
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Wednesday night, dateline Omaha. This is the far northwest corner of the MVC -- the home of Creighton, the most consistently successful team in the league in recent years. The Bluejays have enjoyed seven consecutive 20-win seasons, five conference tourney titles and six NCAA berths in the past seven years under the direction of coach Dana Altman, and usually find themselves involved in a 7-vs.-10 seed Tournament game come mid-March.
And it's fitting that the kings of conference play in the MVC's grandest castle. Omaha's glass and steel Qwest Center, bathed in a soft, blue light, rises over the abandoned factories and one-story retailers along I-480. It has become the city's community center over the past three years, a place where CU hoops shares space on the marquee with Coldplay and the Rolling Stones. And since they've built it, people have indeed come: the Bluejays had the 29th-highest attendance in all of Division I last year, drawing an average of 11,208 fans; the 13,579 there Wednesday night enjoyed watching their Bluejays storm back from a 10-point halftime deficit to outlast plucky Bradley, 80-76.
Partly because of the successful example of the Qwest Center, other schools are moving into the 21st century, into larger arenas that reflect the league's growing stature. This is the last season of Northern Iowa's quirky UNI-Dome, and Southern Illinois has released ambitious plans to create a "Saluki Way" in Carbondale, highlighted by a new state-of-the art arena. According to league commissioner Doug Elgin, Missouri State is likely to begin a facility campaign within the next two years, as well.
<CENTER>* * *</CENTER>
Thursday, it was on to Springfield, Mo., a half-day's drive south of Omaha and just north of Branson, the Midwest's entertainment capital. Springfield is the home of the university formerly known as Southwest Missouri State before repeated pleadings to the state senate finally paid off last year, and the school dropped the "Southwest." Since the change became official on Aug. 28, 2005, the campus has eradicated nearly all mentions of its former title and acronym, even replacing the large stone landmarks at its entrances. Other than a bus-shuttle stop here and there, you'd never know it was called anything else.
One thing that does remain from the old SMS days is the Hammons Student Center, a creaking and homely old bandbox that sits in the middle of Missouri State's campus. As in many Valley venues, the prime sections and front rows aren't lined with thousand-dollar stuffed suits, the kind you find at power-conference games. In places like Springfield, farmers from surrounding areas (who undoubtedly refer to their trips to games as "going into town") share space with blue-haired grannies wearing hand-knit sweaters, ones that feature lovingly imperfect recreations of the school logo. And the grownups cheer just as loud as the kids do.
"C'mon, Blake," a beer-bellied man in a checkerboard flannel shirt and fresh MSU ballcap called out through cupped hands, exhorting star guard Blake Ahearn on in the closing moments of a tight game with Southern Illinois. "C'mon, you've got to lead this team!"
It worked -- buoyed by a roaring near-capacity crowd, Mo-State prevailed and won its 12th game of the year. After the game, head coach Barry Hinson came out to the floor to address a small group of students who had stayed behind to soak up the win. As soon as he came close, the students broke into a bellowing chant of "Bar-ry! Bar-ry!" and serenaded him with a chorus of "Daaaa Bears, da Bears, da Bears!"
"You guys were so great tonight," Hinson addressed the young fans, moving his hands as he spoke. "This, tonight, was definitely the best support I've seen in my seven years here. You're such a huge reason why we're winning so much right now."
<CENTER>* * *</CENTER>
I spent Saturday night in Peoria, Ill., home of Bradley University. The road to Peoria winds north and east and passes through St. Louis, the conference's headquarters and home of the annual MVC conference tournament known as "Arch Madness." Peoria is the true birthplace of "March Madness," a term first coined in 1939 to describe the Illinois High School Association's tournament, which is now held in the same Peoria Civic Center in which Bradley plays its home games. "March Madness is an IHSA thing," the signage proclaims. "Always has been, always will be!"
Recruiting high school kids from the tough high school leagues in Illinois, Indiana and Missouri is an MVC thing, and likely will always be, as well. Valley rosters are not the mishmash of recruits from Texas, New York and Florida you find at the top levels -- aside from an African import found on nearly all the conference's current rosters, most squads are made up of area ballers who weren't quite Big Ten material. For instance, visiting Indiana State offers four Hoosier Staters and six Illinoisans, and Bradley is represented by six instate products, including three from the local Peoria area.
The lack of blue-chip mercenaries allows for continuous story lines, for fans to keep track of careers, to call players by their first names as though they were neighbors from down the street. On Saturday, most of the red-clad crowd at Carver Arena spoke in hushed tones about 'Cellus (Marcellus Somerville), trading stories about the latest adventures of the Braves' moody star forward.
And small-city soap-opera kept the fans in their seats, even while the home-standing Braves completed a 22-point romp over the lowly Sycamores. They didn't want to miss a repeat of "The Handshake," if it were to happen. Indiana State coach Royce Waltman and Bradley coach Jim Les have only shaken hands once. (Saturday, Les moved quickly to the center of the floor, avoiding the handshake line altogether). Relatedly, there's the story of "The High-Five," when Waltman was greeted warmly by Evansville head coach Steve Merfeld after the 10-seed Indiana State embarrassed 7-seed Bradley in the first round of 2005's Arch Madness. Merfeld had been eliminated by Les for the Bradley job three years ago; the Valley's a small place, you see, and animosity lingers.
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It doesn't seem so small in a rental car, however. There are 246 long miles, some of which feature thickets of traffic lights, that separate Peoria and downstate Carbondale. It's where Southern Illinois University (or just "Southern") is located, home of the SIU Arena which, as of Monday, has only seen one home loss in the past 64 games. It's also home of one of the most asked-about mascots in all of Division I.
The Saluki is a breed of sighthound that has been confirmed by DNA analysis as one of the most ancient dog types in history, often serving at the heels of Egyptian pharaohs. The name was adopted a half-century ago by SIU's sports teams, to pay homage to the region's "Little Egypt" nickname -- it is said that a drought in the early 1830s wiped out northern Illinois' agriculture ("the streams died in their beds," according to historian Baker Brownell) but the south stayed fertile enough to provide the north with grain, just like in the Bible stories.
But recently, local farming has seen rough times, and so has the coal-mining industry that gave the town its name. The relationship that Southern Illinois has with its surrounding community is like that of many hard-hit areas of MVC country -- the school not only serves the kids who hang out on the US 51 Strip, but SIU also operates as a means for obsolete workers to reinvent themselves in the volatile economy. And that only intensifies the locals' devotion for the home team.
Through a soaking Sunday afternoon rainstorm, 7,500 fans -- evenly mixed between young'uns and old-timers -- slogged across campus (one with precious few parking spaces) to support their beloved Salukis against Illinois State. The visiting Redbirds help prop up the Valley standings (2-6 going into Sunday), but the parity in the MVC is such that the Redbirds have the second-toughest defense in the league, only allowing 59 points a game.
And on this afternoon, Illinois State gave up three fewer than that; the Redbirds' main problem was that they only scored 44. The maroon-colored assemblage (which included a special section of 24 players who from late SIU coach Paul Lambert's successful '70s Salukis) roared for 40 minutes to spur on Southern's MVC-leading defense. The win tied Gonzaga for the nation's longest home winning streak at 32, as well as the all-time Missouri Valley record for consecutive home conference wins at 41.
<CENTER>* * *</CENTER>
But the Missouri Valley Conference is more than long streaks, high win totals, low RPI numbers and provocative talk about four or five NCAA bids. It's a league with 99 years of history and deep roots, a conference in which the only team not to make the postseason in the past 10 years, Drake, has more wins as a program (976) than any other current member.
It's the conference of Ben Jacobson and Nate Funk, but it's also the conference of Larry Bird and Oscar Robertson and all-time MVC scoring leader Hersey Hawkins.
It's the conference of Northern Iowa and Wichita State now, but it was once the conference of Missouri, Nebraska, Oklahoma State neé A&M and first league champion Kansas. (The MVC shares a history with the Big Eight/Twelve from 1908-1928.)
The MVC is a conference in which people in down-on-their-luck Midwestern cities and towns show intense pride in local teams made up of local players, where each victory over squads from the big cities and higher conferences resonates far beyond basketball.
Simply put, there's no conference in America like it.
Despite this year's perfect storm of five Tournament-quality teams, the MVC is neither a well-kept secret or a shocking surprise. The league has sent multiple member schools to the NCAA Tournament for seven consecutive years, and has posted seven first-round wins and two advancements to the Sweet 16 (Missouri State in 1999, Southern Illinois in 2002) in the past decade. It's also a conference of great parity -- eight of the MVC's 10 current members have gone to the Tournament within the past decade, and a ninth (Wichita State) was invited to the last three NITs.
The MVC is basketball heaven, but it's also Iowa -- Cedar Falls (Northern Iowa) and Des Moines (Drake), to be exact. The conference's full territory is made up of those central and rectangular states, a network of dusty cities connected by long, grey ribbons of interstate highway. It's a slice of America that's 600 miles broad and 475 wide, one that overlaps and coexists with Big Ten and Big 12 country.
In short, the Missouri Valley is a mapful of hardscrabble Corn Belt communities and hard-nosed high school talent, a place where circumstances converge to create a brand of college basketball unlike any other. And in order to properly appreciate the culture of the conference, you've got to drive its roads.
<CENTER>* * *</CENTER>
Wednesday night, dateline Omaha. This is the far northwest corner of the MVC -- the home of Creighton, the most consistently successful team in the league in recent years. The Bluejays have enjoyed seven consecutive 20-win seasons, five conference tourney titles and six NCAA berths in the past seven years under the direction of coach Dana Altman, and usually find themselves involved in a 7-vs.-10 seed Tournament game come mid-March.
And it's fitting that the kings of conference play in the MVC's grandest castle. Omaha's glass and steel Qwest Center, bathed in a soft, blue light, rises over the abandoned factories and one-story retailers along I-480. It has become the city's community center over the past three years, a place where CU hoops shares space on the marquee with Coldplay and the Rolling Stones. And since they've built it, people have indeed come: the Bluejays had the 29th-highest attendance in all of Division I last year, drawing an average of 11,208 fans; the 13,579 there Wednesday night enjoyed watching their Bluejays storm back from a 10-point halftime deficit to outlast plucky Bradley, 80-76.
Partly because of the successful example of the Qwest Center, other schools are moving into the 21st century, into larger arenas that reflect the league's growing stature. This is the last season of Northern Iowa's quirky UNI-Dome, and Southern Illinois has released ambitious plans to create a "Saluki Way" in Carbondale, highlighted by a new state-of-the art arena. According to league commissioner Doug Elgin, Missouri State is likely to begin a facility campaign within the next two years, as well.
<CENTER>* * *</CENTER>
Thursday, it was on to Springfield, Mo., a half-day's drive south of Omaha and just north of Branson, the Midwest's entertainment capital. Springfield is the home of the university formerly known as Southwest Missouri State before repeated pleadings to the state senate finally paid off last year, and the school dropped the "Southwest." Since the change became official on Aug. 28, 2005, the campus has eradicated nearly all mentions of its former title and acronym, even replacing the large stone landmarks at its entrances. Other than a bus-shuttle stop here and there, you'd never know it was called anything else.
One thing that does remain from the old SMS days is the Hammons Student Center, a creaking and homely old bandbox that sits in the middle of Missouri State's campus. As in many Valley venues, the prime sections and front rows aren't lined with thousand-dollar stuffed suits, the kind you find at power-conference games. In places like Springfield, farmers from surrounding areas (who undoubtedly refer to their trips to games as "going into town") share space with blue-haired grannies wearing hand-knit sweaters, ones that feature lovingly imperfect recreations of the school logo. And the grownups cheer just as loud as the kids do.
"C'mon, Blake," a beer-bellied man in a checkerboard flannel shirt and fresh MSU ballcap called out through cupped hands, exhorting star guard Blake Ahearn on in the closing moments of a tight game with Southern Illinois. "C'mon, you've got to lead this team!"
It worked -- buoyed by a roaring near-capacity crowd, Mo-State prevailed and won its 12th game of the year. After the game, head coach Barry Hinson came out to the floor to address a small group of students who had stayed behind to soak up the win. As soon as he came close, the students broke into a bellowing chant of "Bar-ry! Bar-ry!" and serenaded him with a chorus of "Daaaa Bears, da Bears, da Bears!"
"You guys were so great tonight," Hinson addressed the young fans, moving his hands as he spoke. "This, tonight, was definitely the best support I've seen in my seven years here. You're such a huge reason why we're winning so much right now."
<CENTER>* * *</CENTER>
I spent Saturday night in Peoria, Ill., home of Bradley University. The road to Peoria winds north and east and passes through St. Louis, the conference's headquarters and home of the annual MVC conference tournament known as "Arch Madness." Peoria is the true birthplace of "March Madness," a term first coined in 1939 to describe the Illinois High School Association's tournament, which is now held in the same Peoria Civic Center in which Bradley plays its home games. "March Madness is an IHSA thing," the signage proclaims. "Always has been, always will be!"
Recruiting high school kids from the tough high school leagues in Illinois, Indiana and Missouri is an MVC thing, and likely will always be, as well. Valley rosters are not the mishmash of recruits from Texas, New York and Florida you find at the top levels -- aside from an African import found on nearly all the conference's current rosters, most squads are made up of area ballers who weren't quite Big Ten material. For instance, visiting Indiana State offers four Hoosier Staters and six Illinoisans, and Bradley is represented by six instate products, including three from the local Peoria area.
The lack of blue-chip mercenaries allows for continuous story lines, for fans to keep track of careers, to call players by their first names as though they were neighbors from down the street. On Saturday, most of the red-clad crowd at Carver Arena spoke in hushed tones about 'Cellus (Marcellus Somerville), trading stories about the latest adventures of the Braves' moody star forward.
And small-city soap-opera kept the fans in their seats, even while the home-standing Braves completed a 22-point romp over the lowly Sycamores. They didn't want to miss a repeat of "The Handshake," if it were to happen. Indiana State coach Royce Waltman and Bradley coach Jim Les have only shaken hands once. (Saturday, Les moved quickly to the center of the floor, avoiding the handshake line altogether). Relatedly, there's the story of "The High-Five," when Waltman was greeted warmly by Evansville head coach Steve Merfeld after the 10-seed Indiana State embarrassed 7-seed Bradley in the first round of 2005's Arch Madness. Merfeld had been eliminated by Les for the Bradley job three years ago; the Valley's a small place, you see, and animosity lingers.
<CENTER>* * *</CENTER>
It doesn't seem so small in a rental car, however. There are 246 long miles, some of which feature thickets of traffic lights, that separate Peoria and downstate Carbondale. It's where Southern Illinois University (or just "Southern") is located, home of the SIU Arena which, as of Monday, has only seen one home loss in the past 64 games. It's also home of one of the most asked-about mascots in all of Division I.
The Saluki is a breed of sighthound that has been confirmed by DNA analysis as one of the most ancient dog types in history, often serving at the heels of Egyptian pharaohs. The name was adopted a half-century ago by SIU's sports teams, to pay homage to the region's "Little Egypt" nickname -- it is said that a drought in the early 1830s wiped out northern Illinois' agriculture ("the streams died in their beds," according to historian Baker Brownell) but the south stayed fertile enough to provide the north with grain, just like in the Bible stories.
But recently, local farming has seen rough times, and so has the coal-mining industry that gave the town its name. The relationship that Southern Illinois has with its surrounding community is like that of many hard-hit areas of MVC country -- the school not only serves the kids who hang out on the US 51 Strip, but SIU also operates as a means for obsolete workers to reinvent themselves in the volatile economy. And that only intensifies the locals' devotion for the home team.
Through a soaking Sunday afternoon rainstorm, 7,500 fans -- evenly mixed between young'uns and old-timers -- slogged across campus (one with precious few parking spaces) to support their beloved Salukis against Illinois State. The visiting Redbirds help prop up the Valley standings (2-6 going into Sunday), but the parity in the MVC is such that the Redbirds have the second-toughest defense in the league, only allowing 59 points a game.
And on this afternoon, Illinois State gave up three fewer than that; the Redbirds' main problem was that they only scored 44. The maroon-colored assemblage (which included a special section of 24 players who from late SIU coach Paul Lambert's successful '70s Salukis) roared for 40 minutes to spur on Southern's MVC-leading defense. The win tied Gonzaga for the nation's longest home winning streak at 32, as well as the all-time Missouri Valley record for consecutive home conference wins at 41.
<CENTER>* * *</CENTER>
But the Missouri Valley Conference is more than long streaks, high win totals, low RPI numbers and provocative talk about four or five NCAA bids. It's a league with 99 years of history and deep roots, a conference in which the only team not to make the postseason in the past 10 years, Drake, has more wins as a program (976) than any other current member.
It's the conference of Ben Jacobson and Nate Funk, but it's also the conference of Larry Bird and Oscar Robertson and all-time MVC scoring leader Hersey Hawkins.
It's the conference of Northern Iowa and Wichita State now, but it was once the conference of Missouri, Nebraska, Oklahoma State neé A&M and first league champion Kansas. (The MVC shares a history with the Big Eight/Twelve from 1908-1928.)
The MVC is a conference in which people in down-on-their-luck Midwestern cities and towns show intense pride in local teams made up of local players, where each victory over squads from the big cities and higher conferences resonates far beyond basketball.
Simply put, there's no conference in America like it.
