Memphis and the Tigers: Healing the Heartbreak
It took me a few days to deal with the Tigers' loss of the final game and to put my thoughts into words. I don't have to explain the heartbreak of just missing the NCAA championship title. It's something all Memphis fans are feeling right now.
John Walters of NBCSports.com wrote a great article about our misread Memphis team. In it, he explains at least some of what is behind the "nobody likes us" feeling we keep getting. It involves the media's tendency to avoid covering a player's background if he doesn't have a traditional, if not prestigious "All-American" lineage.
Commentators dismissed Calipari's "we get no respect" comments with notes of sarcasm, but we know it's true. We knew all along that if the U of M were a more prestigious school, everyone would have been singing our praises. Instead, even with a record 38 wins, no one outside the Rodney Dangerfield-of-basketball-club (that's us) seems surprised we didn't take the title.
What Walters, as a non-Memphian, could never explain is the rest of what's behind our heartbreak. Come to think of it, those of us seeking solace in those 38 wins shouldn't be surprised either. Don't get me wrong -- I was behind the Tigers all the way. But as Memphians, shouldn't we be used to heartbreak by now?
It's a word that has come up to describe Memphis in numerous articles before and since our historic game Monday. That damn Elvis song is our anthem as we've always been so lonely as a city, with the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., sealing our fate of permanent heartbreak. Within four days of honoring the country's greatest civil rights leader, the climactic loss played out like yet another dramatic irony for Memphis.
Of course, basketball is just a game, and the two incidents do not compare. However, it's difficult for Memphians to shake a very real case of the blues, and we continuously sing an all-too-familiar tune.
We know the past is thick in the air here, and in a way, it's an asset. But while Memphis has grown up, the rest of the world (besides Elvis fans) sees us as illegitimate children from the ghetto. We are seen as unworthy or we make them uncomfortable, much like some of our very talented basketball players.
Memphians know, however, not to complain. We would only sound like sore losers. But at this point I have to wonder ... are we doing this to ourselves? Are we allowing the outside view to perpetuate an inferiority complex?
The Tiger fans in San Antonio after our win over UCLA didn't allow any such nonsense. Every time ESPN broadcast from outside the arena, the reporter struggled to be heard over the constant "T-I-G-E-R-S TIGERS!" With our winning streak and the hope of a championship title, it was easy to show our pride. We want to be proud. We need to be proud, and we so needed that title. Or did we?
Didn't the Tigers give us plenty to be proud of? Sure a trophy would be nice, but we don't need it. They gave us more than just a record season -- they united us and gave us that something to be proud of we've been waiting for. I consider them heroes. But Memphis has so much to be proud of.
Not only did we give the world the blues and Elvis, we have a growing, vibrant art scene, complete with writers, musicians, visual artists, and filmmakers. We have one of the most highly-regarded ballet troupes in the country. Downtown, which is the heart of the city, has artistic and educational demonstrations on almost any given day for free. We have Autozone Park, the best Minor League stadium in the country, a rich history, a plethora of cultures, great restaurants, and an entertaining nightlife. Overton Park is the only urban park in the country made of virgin forest. We have compassionate programs in place to help those who are poor, uneducated, and homeless. We have hospitals that treat children whether or not their families can afford it, not to mention the revolutionary corporations that launched here. We are home to the National Civil Rights Museum, a sophisticated tribute and continuation of Dr. King's legacy. Besides all that and more, Memphis is a best-of-both-worlds phenomenon that we, as citizens, call a "big small town."
So instead of hoping for a big win, maybe Memphis needs to stop feeling like a loser. What would Coach Cal say? That if we want to win, we better act like winners? I don't know, but maybe an attitude adjustment would work just as well as a trophy ... or better. Maybe, in order to heal our heartbreak, all we need to do is cheer for our city like we did for the Tigers.
Harmony Stewart
