The following post is legendary amongst Friar Basketball messeboards. It was orginally posted 8 years ago by “The GodFather”, and it has become tradition to post it every time Providence plays UCONN.
Here it is in all its glory.
WHY WE HATE UCONN
1) The Fans
Without question the most ignorant, arrogant, obnoxious, insufferable bunch of nouveau riche gasbags in the Big East, easily taking the title previously held by Syracuse fans. UConn fans are the basketball equivalent of the internet billionaire who crashes a blue blood party on Ocean Drive, farts in the buffet line, eats the caviar with their fingers, takes a leak in the bushes, pinches the hostess’ ass and then can’t understand why no one thinks they’re cool.
If you’ve never seen them at the Civic Center (and if you haven’t, you must not be paying attention because there are 3,000 of these losers there every time we play them), as a public service allow me to provide you with a brief description:
The Men- fat, loud, stupid. Thinks basketball was invented in 1990 during “The Dream Season” (a season where they went no farther than we did in 1997, but somehow still inspires grown men to weep in the Nutbag State). Thinks “The Shot” was the defining moment of the 20th Century, slightly ahead of World War II and landing a man on the moon. Spent the day after winning the national championship speed dialing WFAN demanding respect. Can’t understand why Tate George isn’t in the NBA.
The Women- fat, ugly, obnoxious. Resplendent in full Huskie regalia (UConn sweatshirt, Huskie-blue fanny pack, Rebecca Lobo bloomers, national flag blue and white pom poms). Thinks someone outside the state of Connecticut actually gives a flying crap about women’s basketball. Cried at Jennifer Rizzotti’s wedding, and when Shea Ralph blew out her knee. Writes long, impassioned letters to the Hartford Courant after each season that always end with “Thank you for making us proud. You’ve done so much.”
UConn fans should be considered armed and extremely dangerous, and should be approached only with extreme caution. If you want to have some fun with them, just sneak up behind them and yell “Christian Laettner” and watch their heads explode like a scene out of “Scanners.”
2) The Media
Unless you’ve ever actually lived in that miserable state (and I did 15 years hard time there), it’s hard to put into words just how bad the gushing, adoring media there really is when it comes to their Huskies. The main culprits are The Three Stooges- The Hartford Courant’s Ken Davis, The Manchester Journal-Inquirer’s Phil Chardis and The Norwich Bulletin’s Peter Abraham (each of whom wept openly at courtside when they won the national championship), but the conspiracy extends far beyond these three bozos.
Connecticut is like the USSR, and the Courant is like Pravda- anti-UConn sentiment is simply not tolerated, and dissenters are dealt with swiftly and harshly. Mike Francesa once said that Rod Sellers was a thug (which he was), and Billy Packer said that Chris Smith palmed the ball every time he touched it (which he did), and to this day neither of them can enter the state without
Secret Service protection. The scary part is that Calhoun honestly thinks this lapdog, spoon-fed, kneepad-wearing media is still too rough on him. And if you really want to hear something that will turn your stomach, just throw on WTIC’s Joe D’Ambrosio some time. “Joe D” makes Johnny Most look like Edward R. Murrow- without a doubt the biggest shill for any team in any sport that I’ve ever heard. One of my simple pleasures in life (and one I would encourage all Friar fans to join me in) is listening to Smokin’ Joe after a UConn loss- you’ve never heard such a whining, petulant, defensive jerk, looking to pick a fight with anyone who dares to deviate from the hear-no-evil, see-no-evil Husky party line. He is an absolute disgrace.
They call these clowns “The Horde”- they should call them “The Whores.”
3) The Coach
There’s just no nice way to say this- Jim Calhoun is the single biggest jerk in all of college basketball. There isn’t enough cyberspace on the internet to detail all of Jimmy The Shriek’s transgressions, though some of his most memorable moments have come in post-game press conferences- eyes bulging, spittle flying, barely coherent, blaming his players for anything that went wrong (I would have given 5 years off my life to have heard him after the BC game). I particularly enjoyed his performance after we kicked their ass in the Big East Tournament in 1994, and he spent almost an hour throwing back-handed compliments at us while still insisting that the real best team in the Big East didn’t win the conference championship. Classic.
Any respect I might have had for him (and believe me, it wasn’t much) went out the window years ago when he chickened out of playing UMass while Calipari was still there. Opposing coaches despise him for his arrogance, big mouth, incessant whining about the officials and negative recruiting (yes Jim, we know all about Ruben Garces). Opposing fans hate him because he’s an idiot. Simply put- he doesn’t win with class, and he doesn’t lose with class.
Actually, Buf-houn and Connecticut are a match made in heaven- a petulant, defensive insecure loser presiding over a state with a gigantic inferiority complex. And to think we actually considered hiring this blowhard before we signed Pitino in 1985. I wouldn’t trade all his wins and his one lucky national championship for having this guy represent the face of Providence College basketball for all the dope in Khalid El-Amin’s gym bag or all of Marcus Williams’ laptops.
CHICKENING OUT OF PLAYING UMASS
This is one of the great untold stories of New England college basketball in the 90s. While UConn was starting their fraudulent rise to national prominence, Husky pups were noticing disturbing rumblings to the north. Snake oil salesman John Calipari was building a powerhouse in the Huskies’ back yard, and Husky Nation absolutely could not deal with it. Say what you want about Calipari, but he would play anybody anywhere, and the team he really wanted a crack at was UConn. One problem though- Jim Calhoun was too chicken to play him.
The most egregious example of this was the 1995 Great Eight. Both UConn and UMass were eligible based on their finishes the year before, and ESPN was salivating at the thought of having UMass/UConn as the marquee matchup for that made-for-TV snoozefest. Except there was a problem- UConn said they wouldn’t play in the Great Eight unless ESPN guaranteed that they would not play UMass. Think about that for a minute!
You’d have to be Freud to understand why the powers that be at UConn avoided UMass like the plague for the entire length of the Calipari regime. Maybe they were pissed about the time CBS put Calipari on the phone to talk about why UConn wouldn’t play them while undefeated No. 1 ranked UConn was getting embarrassed by Kansas on national TV. Maybe they were jealous that UMass was playing- and beating- nationally ranked teams on the road every year while UConn got their jollies by beating up the Yales and Hartfords of the world by 80. Or maybe it was because deep down inside they knew they weren’t good enough or tough enough or ballsy enough to beat UMass and Calhoun simply couldn’t deal with it.
Now they play every year in some abomination called the Mass Mutual Classic, and all is well in Hooterville because Calipari is gone and UConn wins every year. And for all the Dumpsters of the world who will whine that UConn agreed to play them before they knew Calipari and Camby were going to leave, I don’t even want to hear it. Bottom line- in the mid 90s it was the game everyone wanted to see- not just in New England but natio
nally- and it never came off because UConn was too chicken and fraidy-scared to lose.
by The Godfather