Didn’t watch one minute of yesterday’s game.  Might watch it on tape, but probably won’t.  What was depressing in January and then promising in February is now devastating in March, and I’m not sure if I want to put myself through it.

Why did I miss the game?  For the Missouri Valley Conference Tournament Championship Game, of course.  There’s important reasons to miss do-or-die Illini games, and then there’s Northern Iowa v. Wichita State.  Jordan Eglseder! Garrett Stutz! Feel the March!

My buddy gets free tickets every year, so I’ve gone to this game for 10 years straight.  It is my annual respite from Illini obsession, where I get to watch a college basketball game and not care one tiny bit who wins.  I enjoy it immensely.  When they moved our Wisconsin game time to 1:00, I had a decision to make, but I had already agreed to go and decided to not back out.  Illinois/Wisconsin on my phone, UNI/WSU on the court.  I could watch Ali Farokhmanesh do his thing and avoid seeing Tim Jarmusz do his.  Win/win, from any angle.

You know that line they show during the Braggin’ Rights game every year where there’s orange shirts on the right and puke-yellow shirts on the left?  That’s where our seats were today.  WSU fans seated immediately to our right, UNI fans immediately to our left.  (Stay with me. There’s a point at the end. Maybe.)

Sitting between two fanbases when you’re Switzerland is a fascinating experience, especially when it comes to the officials.  No call is fair.  Every opposing player over-the-back.  Charge call at one end, outrage to my left.  Traveling call at the other end, outrage to my right. A smattering of boos from both sides as the officials head to the locker room for halftime. There were maybe two questionable calls in the first half, but for the most part, fair and balanced officiating.

So when I started getting Tweets about Jim Burr in the Illini game, I had to laugh.  I’ve let Jim Burr have it before, both from Krush and towards my television.  I’ve used words like “worst” and “senile” and “laughable”.  So as these same words were raining down from behind me, I couldn’t help but chuckle.  Bias is a helluva drug.

As the second half started for both games, I found myself in a similar situation to the Michigan State football game last fall.  Two games going on simultaneously, one in front of my eyes, and one on my phone.  The one on my phone keeps getting more frustrating – the one in front of me is a snapshot of what I hoped the Illini would be.  As the Illini were putting together another now-legendary fake comeback, Northern Iowa was putting together a real comeback, turning a 6 point deficit into a 14 point lead.  As I was receiving texts and Tweets about how Weber was screaming and swearing on the sideline, attempting to motivate his team, I noticed Northern Iowa’s coach doing nothing of the sort.  His players were doing it.  Their point guard drove and dished, their forwards crashed the boards, and every dead ball produced a “we are NOT losing this game” huddle somewhere on the court.

So as my phone showed our 5 point deficit climb back to double digits, I watched Northern Iowa step on WSU’s throat.  It was impressive.  Kwadzo Ahelegbe took charge, and Lucas O’Rear did his best Lucas Johnson impression, crawling under the Shockers’ skin and refusing to leave.  As the play got chippy, Northern Iowa dialed it in and Wichita State wilted.  The teams seemed somewhat evenly matched physically, but the better mental team pulled away.

Which brought me back to the game on my phone.  I didn’t see one minute of it, but I have some guesses.  The better mental team pulled away.  Wisconsin dialed it in while Illinois wilted.  Jordan Taylor showed heart, Tim Jarmusz did something Tim Jarmusz-y, and Hughes and Bohannon controlled the tempo.  Meanwhile, Brandon Paul was pressing, DJ wasn’t pressing enough, and Dominique Keller jacked up an ill-advised three at some point.  How’d I do?

When Wisconsin pushed the lead back to 13, I put the phone in my pocket.  The Wichita State fans were starting to gather their things, the Northern Iowa fans were starting to gather for the court rush, and I was somewhere in the middle.  The irony was this: the UNI victory might have kept our extremely faint tourney hopes alive.  Our only chance now, barring a miracle BTT run, is to hope that every conference tourney is won by already-in teams (like UNI), leaving the committee no choice but to say “fine, I guess we’ll have to take Illinois.” (slogan alert!)

To be honest, part of me wants this to be over.  I’m sick of the indigestion.  I can’t take much more of 2009/2010 Illinois athletics.  Bring on, I don’t know, baseball or something.

And, of course, part of me still can’t wait for the Selection Show, working over scenarios in my head like “well, they let in an 18-14 Arizona team once, and with a down Pac10 this year leaving open spots…”  I can’t help it.  I want to be invited.

So that’s where I am today – somewhere in the middle.  Part “we’d lose in the first round anyway – die season die”, part “you know, if we snuck in at 12 and were paired with a ridiculous 5-seed like Richmond, we could make some noise.”  That’s what’s going on – nothing’s right, I’m torn.

I’m all out of faith. This is how I feel.

(That was dumb. I’ll stop.)

(OK, one more.)

Illusion never changed into something real.