mitch mcgary's unbridled enthusiasm

HI. Let's get back on the horse. Hello, horse.

Local politics bits. I won't be writing a full-fledged endorsement post this year largely because two other people have done the work for me. I endorse the endorsements of Damn Arbor and Brandon Dimcheff. If you are an Ann Arbor resident please check those posts out; over the past two years we've seen a sitting councilmember drop a homosexual slur because he was mad at a local reporter for supposedly taking unflattering zoom screenshots of him; his faction on city council declined to even slap him on the wrist. There are two toxic CMs running for re-election in Wards 4 and 5 who need to get the boot.

Oh so that happened. The Big Ten added some schools, as you may have heard. USC and UCLA will get a full revenue distribution immediately, unlike Maryland and Rutgers. This is because uh well:

…the price tag for the Big Ten’s rights will exceed $1 billion, first reported earlier this year. Interestingly, Ourand claims that the additions of UCLA and USC to the conference could result in the rights fees increasing “more than 15%,” which would be (at least) another $150 million.

I'm long past the point where I look at this as good news since it doesn't seem to do anything to help close the gap with the SEC but does presage even more commercial breaks. If all that TV money didn't help Michigan retain Erik Bakich when a school getting relatively pathetic ACC money came in, what's it really going to do for fans?

I am in broad agreement with the Ringer's Kevin Clark:

College football, I believe, is not built on TV markets and cable sub fees. It is built on crisp, perfect fall days, and pure spite. College football is propelled by a type of fury that is completely unintelligible to anyone who does not experience it. Fury at your rival, their coach, your own coach, the people who make recruiting rankings, the people you work with who once taunted you after the wrong loss. It is about the most American force possible: vague, mostly unexplained hostility toward your coworkers and neighbors.

Most people have never set foot on their rival’s campus—some fans have never set foot on their own team’s campus—and yet college football is their favorite thing in the world. Not, crucially, because it’s a farm system for the NFL, or even because it makes them happy: The only real goal is for your rival to be more miserable than you are.

I guess it'll be fun to play USC and UCLA occasionally, but I'd rather lose 13-11 to Iowa. Is this a cry for help? No. Probably not. Maybe.

In fine form. [Marc-Gregor Campredon]

Previously: All-Bench

John Beilein has spent ten seasons in Ann Arbor. As of the most recent, he's the winningest coach in program history with 215. He snapped Michigan's post-sanction tournament drought in 2009, the first of seven NCAA appearances with the Wolverines, three of which have extended at least into the second weekend.

In recognition of the above, as well as the need for offseason #content, I've put together a series of All-Beilein teams, inspired by this twitter post and the ensuing conversation. My guidelines:

1. I'm attempting to put together the best possible lineups, which isn't necessarily the same as picking the best individual players at each spot.
2. I'm choosing individual player vintages (i.e. 2013 Trey Burke). A player can only be chosen once for each category, but different player years (i.e. freshman bench gunner 2014 Zak Irvin and well-rounded senior 2017 Zak Irvin) can be eligible for separate categories. The same player/year can be chosen for multiple categories—for instance, 2013 Mitch McGary making the All-Bench team doesn't exclude him from making the final All-Beilein team.
3. Eligibility for certain categories may be slightly fudged because of the limited pool of players.

I'm not putting too many constraints on myself for this exercise since the point is to let our imaginations run wild. Speaking of running wild, this team is a little different than the others: today's group is comprised of the best contributors to the Bench Mob.

RINGLEADER: 2013-14 ANDREW DAKICH

The only member of the Bench Mob to merit his own highlight video. Dakich peaked in this role in 2013-14, when he could be the exuberant youngster instead of an assistant coach in the making. He's the ideal captain of a Bench Mob: he'll dance in the pregame huddle, be the first off the bench to greet players after a timeout, make a scene after a big shot, and coach up the point guards on the best way to approach the high ball screen. It won't be easy to fill (and leap out of) his seat.

Honorable Mention: 2012-13 Josh Bartelstein. Another walk-on who became a team leader, Bartelstein isn't your traditional hyper-excited bench fixture. Anyone with ESP, however, deserves serious consideration for the first team.

If we were ranking legendary Bench Mob moments, this would be at the top.

[Hit THE JUMP.]

It's been just over a month since Mitch McGary announced his "decision" to go pro. The scare quotes are present because there was no decision to make if McGary were to act at all in his own self-interest.

This sucked. This sucked because Mitch McGary is a joy to watch on the basketball court, a 6'10" mace attached to a giant pendulum, swinging violently back and forth while pausing only to wreck shit. This sucked because he's equally fun off the court, with his unicycle and Bieber-crooning and invaluable coaching advice and generally making Michigan's bench seem like the best party on campus, even if McGary was the only one partying:

What sucked most of all, though, was the feeling that McGary had only scratched the surface of his potential, and factors almost entirely out of his control* limited our exposure to just 12 career starts. Mitch McGary's Michigan career lasted all of 966 minutes played. That's just over 16 hours. That's not nearly enough.

So while I had no trouble writing effusively about Nik Stauskas and Glenn Robinson III after their departures, I've spent the last month struggling to put McGary's career into words. I try to analyze and am left instead with a whole lot of feelings. How does one discuss an athlete hyped to Webberian proportions before he ever enrolled who, apart from one brilliant six-game stretch, never produced as expected yet was beloved all the same?

Probably by ignoring all of that, sitting back, and watching him work, because again: when Mitch McGary was on the court, the only proper response was to drop everything and watch Mitch McGary. He didn't give you a choice in the matter. He grabbed your attention like so many entry passes:

McGary was a defensive force with impeccable timing. His steal rate as a freshman easily surpassed that of Trey Burke, Master of the Halfcourt Pickpocket. He protected the rim. He seemingly rebounded everything. Michigan's defense suffered mightily last season without McGary's interior presence and game-changing ability to erase opponent possessions.

He also boasted remarkable skill for a big man. Defensive boards turned into fast breaks in the time you could say "Unseld." Sometimes he'd eschew that route and just do everything himself. Occasionally he'd finish his coast-to-coast forays with a Rondo-esque fake behind-the-back pass. Speaking of point guard skills, he could thread multiple defenders without looking. Perhaps my favorite McGary play came in the Kansas game, when he hit a baseline turnaround right in Jeff Withey's face like it was routine, not a work-in-progress shot he'd rarely—if ever—utilized to that point.

He did these things while accepting a backup role until it was time to unleash him for the 2013 NCAA Tournament, playing in an offense that relied on him more as a garbageman than a creator, and being the team's #1 scholarship cheerleader and hype man.

Look at the GIF at the top of the post, one more time. It's a 25-point blowout of Northwestern, and there's McGary, showing more effort in one play than some guys do in four years. Sure, he lost the ball out of bounds, but it's not like you can be mad about it; even if it didn't end well, that play brought life to a dull affair, and we were all better for having seen it.

That's how I'll choose to remember Mitch McGary. The flashes of brilliance. The occasional mistakes born from genuine enthusiasm that bordered on excessive. Most of all, the feeling, after everything, that I enjoyed my life just that much more thanks to a big kid from Indiana who seemed to enjoy everything.

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*Yes, there's the weed thing. Read that David Roth piece, then think about the punishment for McGary's transgression versus one of another Michigan center—the football one, Graham Glasgow, suspended for part of spring practice and one should-be-a-cupcake non-conference game for drunk driving. I find one of these things far worse than the other, and it's the one that puts other people's lives in actual danger.