Kenny Izzo’s dream of playing professional basketball lead him to places the ordinary persuer would not be willing to visit.
By Phil Perry April 10, 2008
March’s madness has dissipated into an apathetic April. The college tournament has left you with no one to cheer for. Your trip to sunny San Antonio bit the dust. Your only interest in basketball right now is to root against North Carolina’s Tyler “Psycho T” Hansborough because on Easter weekend his name received more air time than Christ’s. And all this negativity has got you in a funk of wasteful daytime drinking and hitless performances on the co-ed intramural softball field, where you wholeheartedly believe that it’s okay to blame your dribbling groundouts on the fact that the pitches are coming in too slow.
By Phil Perry April 3, 2008
When Georgetown kicks off its Big East Tournament run and takes the floor at Madison Square Garden this afternoon, there will be one nagging, unspoken thought in the minds of Hoya fans everywhere: If only Octavius Spann’s mohawk were still around to laud during televised timeouts…
By Phil Perry March 13, 2008
For seniors who may be unsure about their plans after graduation, the question always lingers. It echoes from the tonsils of elderly family members and scarcely-seen acquaintances alike: “So what are you doing next year?”
By Phil Perry February 28, 2008
Everyone knows there’s one primal, raucous, smoking-hot urge that every young adult yearns to satisfy—even at Georgetown, Jesuit institution that it is. It’s raw, it’s pulse-pounding and on President’s Day, along with five open-minded friends, I finally satisfied this visceral desire for the first time. I shot a gun.
By Phil Perry February 21, 2008
You know you’ve made a big shot when you’re still smiling about it three days later.
Judging from the grin that six-foot-six-inch Bryon Jansen—a junior walk-on in his first year as a part of the No. 6-ranked basketball team in the country— wore during a media opportunity last weekend, he was pleased to record his first-ever points as a Hoya.
By Phil Perry February 7, 2008
She’s the endangered species of pick-up basketball: “that girl.” The lone female brave enough to rough it with all the Allen Iverson wannabes and Larry Bird look-alikes, she’ll wait her turn with everyone else just so she can get a little run. She’s usually better than half of the hairy, sweaty guys on the floor, but most times you’d never know it. For the drop of estrogen in an ocean of testosterone, earning respect on the court is tough. Touching the ball every few possessions would be nice, but at the same time, special treatment is an insult. Don’t go easy on these chicks.
By Phil Perry January 31, 2008
We’re now three weeks into the New Year, which means, for most of us, that we’re two weeks removed from breaking our New Year’s resolutions. It’s no fault of our own. It takes a special kind of person to stave off the cravings induced by Little Debby or L.C. from Laguna Beach—both evil temptresses in their own right.
By Phil Perry January 24, 2008
There’s something wrong with Boston sports. In fact, there is so much wrong with Boston sports, I’m writing this column from the roof of Healy Tower. And I’m not here to steal the clock hands.
By Phil Perry November 29, 2007
Tucked away in a corner of Harlem on the edge of the East River, in the middle of the Woodrow Wilson projects, Jesse Sapp learned to play basketball. Hard-nosed. No referees. No specialization. There are no defensive replacements or three-point line lingerers. It’s a game as raw and unforgiving as the concrete it’s played on. The kids just play.
By Phil Perry November 15, 2007