IUBB: A religion itself

Last Saturday night I went to church at St. Paul’s Catholic.

Immediately afterwards, I went straight to Assembly Hall for the Michigan game.

Need I explain further? There’s something going on with IUBB.

Basketball has always been the talk of the town. Bloomingtonians eat, sleep, breathe, bathe and bask in the glory that is once again Indiana basketball.

We come hours early to watch Jordy shoot millions of perfect threes before the game.

To see Oladipo slither through the key and slam a seemingly impossible dunk.

To wonder if Cody needs oxygen to breathe at that altitude.

To revel in the awesomeness that is Derek Elston’s tattoo.

To watch Tom Crean clap his hands, pull up his pants and pace up and down the sidelines in passionate enthusiasm for his boys.

You wanna know what basketball means in this town? When I was at St. Paul’s before the game, half the congregation was wearing red.

People pregame at church in this town, yo. Get on our level!

I was lucky enough to observe the game as a member of the media and as a spectator. As what’s called a grip, it was my job to walk around with a handheld cameraman and coil or uncoil loops of cable accordingly.

We were part of a mission to provide premium video board entertainment for the restless Assembly Hall crowd.

During every timeout, I would stand up and follow my cameraman in his mission for shots of ecstatic Hoosier fans. But during gameplay, I had an under-the-basket view of the best college basketball in the nation.

Before tipoff, my cameraman had to go to center court to shoot the color guard for the National Anthem. Along I went, carefully dropping coils.

And after “... and the home of the brave,” it hit me. You know what it is. An uproarious, ear-splitting rumble from every direction. A level of excitement so incredibly massive your body’s defenses can’t help but let it in.

Or at least I couldn’t. For a few split seconds, I pretended it was for me.

“Behold, Charley, grip of the world! His hands brandishing the ability to hold infinite loops of fiber optic camera cable! For when he grips, his cameraman’s only bounds are those of space and time!”

My glory was hotly interrupted as the cameraman tugged me away to get a shot of the actual stars. My point is that a fully ignited Assembly Hall emits a peculiar, intense energy. Our players feed off of this energy, and we feed off theirs as well.

This energy is capable of permeating through radio waves, TV signals and internet streams across the county, state and country. It impassions alumni and other fans alike in voracious support of the cream and crimson.

It’s Dick Vitale screaming, “Unbelievable!” It’s Don Fischer shouting, “It went in!” It’s big heads bouncing up and down. It’s banners flowing in the wind. It’s a chronic condition.

It’s Hoosier Hysteria.

­— chagiff@indiana.edu