4 Class Basketball...ask Indiana

[5wide]

http://sports.espn.go.com/ncb/feature/featureVideo?page=2379848

 

Mainly this part...

 

The Prep Tournament

 

World-famous Indiana high school basketball, the stuff of myth and legend, ruined perfection by switching eight years ago from a single-class state tournament to four classes. The ultimate meritocracy in youth sports has become the ultimate mediocrity. More trophies are awarded; far fewer fans care.

 

"We had a national heritage that they just gave up," said Bobby Plump, the man who hit the most famous shot in the history of Hoosier Hysteria. It was the shot that gave little Milan High its miracle state title in 1954 over powerhouse Muncie Central and spawned a Cinderella story told a million times over, most notably in the movie "Hoosiers."

 

 

In 1962, a reported 1.55 million fans attended state tournament games. Now, Plump says, attendance is about one-third of that. In 1990, 41,046 fans flocked to the then-Hoosier Dome to watch Damon Bailey close out his legendary high school career with a state title. This year, having long since downsized from the dome to Conseco, a total of 31,828 fans watched all four state title games.

 

 

"The people have not embraced it," Plump said. "But I don't think they will admit they made a mistake."

[mcpapa]

And this part:

 

 

The biggest disappointments in Indiana lie below the pro level. The college disappointments are significant, but none is bigger than the atrocity committed upon Hoosier Hysteria.

 

Understand that Indiana is home to 19 of the 20 largest high school gyms in America, topped by New Castle High, Alford's alma mater, at 9,325 seats. Understand that the Indiana State Library's Web site lists no fewer than 33 books on its shelves relating to high school basketball, including, "Somebody Stole the Pea Out of My Whistle: The Golden Age of Hoosier Basketball Referees." Understand that if there were such a thing as a state sound, in Indiana it would be a basketball slapping off a wood floor in an empty gym.

 

 

If you understand all that, if you grasp the folklore and the sport's place in society, you can understand what the state tournament used to be. For that, take a drive through the rolling hills of Southern Indiana.

 

 

On Indiana Highway 37 you'll see a sign outside Mitchell, pop. 5,000. It commemorates the 1940 state tournament runner-up, the Mitchell High Bluejackets.

 

 

Not the champions. The runners-up. From 66 years ago.

 

 

Now drive down the serpentine stretch of Indiana Highway 58 that leads you to Heltonville Elementary School, in the rolling hills of Southern Indiana. The limestone building was once Heltonville High, before it was swallowed by consolidation to create a larger countywide school, Bedford North Lawrence.

 

Go in the gym. There on one wall, near the exit, is a yellowed photo of the 1954 Heltonville basketball team -- the team that won the school's only sectional championship. Damon Bailey, Heltonville product, says the photo is still there.

 

 

The high school was closed 20 years later, but that team lives on in eternity in a town of about 500 souls. That's what this tournament once meant.

 

 

The 64 statewide sectionals were the foundation of the tourney: the first round, the local scrum that produced one champion to go to the four-team regionals. From there the regional champ went to the four-team semistate, and from there to the four-team state finals in Indianapolis -- where only one team was crowned king of the state.

 

 

In Lawrence County, the sectional was an eight-school brawl back in those days -- the little rural schools like Heltonville trying to knock off the "city" school of Bedford. School would be canceled and opening-round games would be played all day. It was the social event of the year.

 

 

And if a little school won a sectional, it was a ticket to local immortality. Just ask the guys from that '54 Heltonville team.

 

 

"For smaller schools, the state championships were the sectionals," Bailey said. "If you could come through the sectional and win it, you had that one great weekend of games to remember."

 

 

And there are road signs and faded pictures and old trophies all over this state, commemorating those victories.

 

 

That's the thing the Indiana High School Athletic Association missed when it dismantled Hoosier Hysteria and replaced it with its four-class, four-champion system, which sometimes sends teams long distances for smaller, sparsely attended sectionals and regionals.

 

 

Bird is one of the five most accomplished players in the history of the sport. He's done everything there is to do with a basketball: three NBA titles, three straight NBA MVP awards, an Olympic gold medal, first-ballot Hall of Fame status, ad infinitum. But ask him about the Indiana state tournament from his days at tiny Springs Valley High School, and his recall is as sharp as the epic '84 finals against the Lakers.

 

 

After winning its sectional, Valley was in against bigger Bedford in the regional and had a six-point lead with a minute and a half left -- and lost.

 

 

"My best friend missed three one-and-ones," Bird said. "I still get mad at him for that."

 

 

Larry Legend laughed.

 

 

"Everyone does."

 

 

The big thing that loss cost Bird was the chance to play a truly big school, Jeffersonville, in the regional final.

 

 

"That's what the state tournament was all about," he said. "You wanted to play against the best. We were a small school, but our goal was to get to the state finals. I'd rather play for one title."

 

 

Bailey makes a compelling case for a co-conspirator in the demise of Hoosier Hysteria: consolidation. The number of high schools in the state has dwindled from a high of near 800 to about 400, robbing small towns of their identities and rooting interests along the way.

 

 

"If you have seven varsity teams in a county, that's 70 to 80 varsity players," Bailey said. "If you consolidate to one school, that's 12 players. A lot of the consolidated kids' kids are now at the high school level, and their parents didn't grow up playing basketball like mine did. They didn't go to the gym every Friday night.

 

 

"That's what my dad did, and his dad did, and his dad's dad did. The student interest is not there as it once was."

 

 

Bailey, Bird and Painter all prefer the single-class tournament -- but they pale in intensity to Plump. The 69-year-old Indianapolis businessman who put Milan on the map led an impassioned fight for years against class basketball.

 

 

There would be no Milan miracle under the current format. Nothing to talk about for the next 50 years.

 

 

"Since they went to class basketball, Milan has been to the semistate twice, and nobody knows it," Plump said. "That gives you the idea that people don't care. The sectional winners in the old days will be remembered a long time after the four state champions are remembered.

 

 

"When you can play, you want to play against the big boys. You might get your brains beat out, but it won't be the last time that happens in life."

 

 

Basketball in this state is getting its brains beat out on every level these days. For the good of the game and the good of the people who love it more than anywhere else, that needs to change.

 

 

After all, in 49 states it's just basketball. But this is Indiana.

[stickymitts]

4 is two too many.

[westsider]

Indiana would have been well served by a two-class system, just as Illinois has been for 34 years. Unfortunately, Illinois went to four classes, effective in 2007 ... and a lot of fans there aren't happy, either.

[Automatic]

4 is one too many.

[statmanhensley]

Two is one too many.

[Automatic]

^What he said.