Headed home from Boston on I-90, the Russianator and I were already working on a plan for the Sweet 16 games in Albany. Everything was falling into place. Boss confirmed that he was flying in for the occasion.Early in the week the Russianator confirmed we had tickets. The Idiots have always been fans of the party scene in the Capital District. Add in the NCAA Tournament and you’ve got a recipe for one kick-ass weekend. I love the Albany scene. Many good times have been had by all Three Idiots there. In fact, the Russianator and I watched Syracuse clinch their last Final Four appearance against Kansas together in his apartment back in 1996. Karma baby….I liked where we were headed.
After a week full of email exchanges the plan was set. I “missed” work that Friday and headed back East on the great NYS Thruway. A quick aside for those CNYers…..isn’t the trip East on the Thruway so much more scenic than the one West? The Mohawk River and all those little factory towns make it so much more bearable than the journey to Rochester and beyond.
A brief trip onto 87 North and I pulled into the Albany airport to pick up Boss. A few minutes later and Boss’s Southwest Airlines flight touched down in New York. Quite a few Cuse fans wearing orange made their way off of the plane including Boss. We were 2/3 of the way there.
Having the regional in his hometown, the Russianator actually decided to work that Friday. After dropping Champcar off at his apartment we decided there was only one way to wait for our fellow Idiot---- on barstools. We had about an hour to kill so we walked a few block to one of the Russianator’s favorite hangouts….The Hill Street Tavern.
What we didn’t know is that this bar would become the “Syracuse” bar during the Albany regional. We arrived late afternoon to a bar packed with orange-clad Cuse fans getting ready for tonight’s battle with Auburn. A few Labatt’s Blues later, the Russianator joined up with us. We were joined by a few Friends of Idiots as well including the Russianator’s sister, future brother-in-law, and our good friend Ed.
The Idiots love a frosty brew. The Idiots love college basketball. And one thing the Idiots share an equal passion for is tasty bar food. The Hill Street has been a long-standing “first stop” for pre-drinking eating in the Capital District. Nothing serves as better base for an all-night drinking extravaganza like a Hill Street burger or some of their wings.
Knowing that the Pepsi Arena wouldn’t be serving beer (see Part I: Boston), everyone in our group was busy sucking down beers like Joe Namath on a Monday night. We decided wings were the play….and I’ll be honest, the Hill Street wings are among the best I’ve ever had. Our group made Eric “Badlands” Booker proud. I lost count at 80 wings ordered.
Game time was quickly approaching. After squaring up on our bill and loosening our belts a notch, it was a short walk down to the Pepsi Arena. The Russianator met up with this step-dad, a great guy we like to call Caddyshack. Boss and I headed for our seats.
The Oklahoma-Butler game was just finishing up as we settled in.
I’ll be honest, this Auburn game is probably the game I remember the least about due to our earlier performance at the Hill Street. A few late garbage 3’s by Auburn at the end made it a one point game. When I asked the Russianator for his recollection on this game he just remembered some small forward killing us with jumpers in the soft spot of the zone.
FINAL: Syracuse-79 Auburn-78.
Elite Eight baby. The weekend had purpose. There was only one thing to do after the game. Back to the bars. The post-game scene on Pearl Street was tremendous. Lots of fans were milling around, waiting in line to get into Jillian’s and The Big House. We decided to head back towards the Russianator’s place and hit a few local neighborhood pubs.
Boss, Russianator, Caddyshack, and myself finally settled in at the Lark Tavern where we caught some more late games and continued our "John Daly at the 19th hole" imitations.
The good thing about that Friday night, it was only a short stumble home to the Russianator’s pad. Lights out.
Saturday night we had a great dinner at the Albany Pump Station. We were fired up ready for tomorrow’s potential Final Four clinching game against Oklahoma. We were close. We could taste it.
Pearl Street was another great scene on Saturday night. There was a huge regional bracket set up draping down one of the buildings. It showed only two teams remaining in the East Regional. Tomorrow we’d either be celebrating a trip to the Final Four, or we’d be really pissed off.
We hit the Bayou and Artist Formerly Known As The Big House for an evening of cocktails and more cocktails. One thing we love about the party scene in Albany: 4 am last call. Our heads hit the pillows in the early hours of Sunday Morning.
I’ve read that sense of smell can be the most powerful agent of memory recall. There are many smells that bring back memories for me: my mother baking homemade bread, the smell of a new car, and the smell of a Christmas tree in December. My friends, I want you to imagine this scene on Sunday morning.
Boss, Russianator, and myself had just spent the previous two days sucking down beers and shoveling bar food down our throats. We were three really smelly guys, who, well to put it kindly were seriously contributing to the problem of greenhouse gas emissions in that apartment. Boss, Champ, and the Russianator could have been renamed 87, 89, and 94 Grade that morning.
When all three of us finally awoke from our methane-induced comas, we noticed Caddyshack was nowhere to be found. The Russianator fired up SportsCenter for us and we watched highlights of the previous day’s tourney action. A few minutes later Caddyshack returned from a quick trip to Dunkin’ Donuts. We figured it was just for morning coffee and the morning paper. We later learned the truth…..we had stunk the poor man out of the apartment and he LITERALLY needed some fresh air. Not one of our prouder moments.
After fumigating the Russianator’s apartment and some serious shower time, we piled into the ‘shack’s car and headed down to The Pepsi Arena. Getting out of the car, the scene was surreal. Downtown Albany was a sea of orange. Cuse fans were screaming “Let’s go Orange!” from the parking garages. This was a home game. And there was a feeling of “we can’t lose” with all Cuse fans.
The scene inside the Pepsi mirrored what we had just experienced…..orange, and lots of it. A beautiful sight. Chants of “Let’s go Orange!” grew louder and louder. There was no way this team was going to lose this game. All Three Idiots knew it.
Kelvin Sampson, Hollis Price and the rest of the Sooner team had no chance. It was evident very quickly the boys from Oklahoma had no idea what to do against the Cuse zone. Honestly, to this day I’m amazed at how COMPLETELY LOST this team looked trying to figure out the 2-3 zone. It was like they had never seen it before. Kelvin Sampson must have been to busy illegally calling recruits instead of reviewing game tape.
By the second half the game wasn’t really in doubt. It seemed like an eternity however for each TV timeout to arrive. 12 minutes until the Final Four…8…4.
FINAL: Syracuse-63 Never Saw A Zone-47.
That Albany karma did its magic. It was a great scene watching Melo, GMac, and Jimmy B cut down the nets. The chants of “Let’s Go Orange” continued.
Caddyshack wanted to know if we were in for New Orleans. He was already booking his trip with the Russianator's Mom. We’d have to call an emergency meeting of the Idiots to study the feasibility of a New Orleans road trip... Meanwhile, we quickly rushed Boss back up 87 North to the Albany airport so he could catch his flight home.
I was back on I-90 headed back to CNY. The Russianator and I would begin the next week crunching the numbers to see if the Idiots would be off to New Orleans.
Turn up the Foo Fighters….
All my life I've been searching for somethin
'Somethin' never comes, never leads to nuthin'
Nothin' satisfies, but I'm gettin' close
Closer to the prize at the end of the rope

























