In which Mike Francesa says Hofstra cannot win the CAA, thereby all but guaranteeing a championship this season for the Flying Dutchmen

You'd smile too, if you were never wrong.

I guess I should open this bashfest of Mike Francesa by saying he’s always been pretty good to Hofstra and the men’s basketball program in particular. Francesa and Chris Russo were usually complimentary of the University whenever they broadcast live from Jets camp. Francesa and Russo broadcast the America East championship game live for WFAN from Hofstra in 2000 and 2001, which lent a huge air of legitimacy to the festivities.

Jay Wright was a regular guest on Mike and the Mad Dog in his final two seasons, and the hosts have regularly found time for Tom Pecora over the last eight years—a pretty cool thing to do by a couple of guys who thrive on talking about the headline sports and personalities and for a team that is, more often than not, a rumor on its own campus, never mind the packed New York scene.

Francesa and Russo have divorced, but apparently they’ve agreed to share custody of Pecora, who appeared on Russo's XM show a few weeks ago. It was Francesa’s turn Wednesday, when the newly solo host of the WFAN afternoon drive show interviewed Pecora, reminded us all why it’s so difficult to listen to him (Francesa, that is) and provided the best evidence yet that Hofstra fans should make preliminary travel plans for the first weekend of the NCAA Tournament.

Thank goodness YES not only simulcasts Francesa’s show but also airs a “best-of” every night. Thank goodness, because I was in the car with a friend, who in turn was on the phone, which in turn made it difficult to hear the interview, which in turn necessitated watching the clips show at 11 p.m. (And along those lines, thank goodness for crappy brakes, because if my car had functioning brakes, I would have driven to my lunch appointment and listened to satellite radio. Viva la crappy brakes!)

Thank goodness because the pomposity, hypocrisy and unintentional hilarity of Francesa need to be seen, not heard, in order to be fully understood. And Pecora’s bemusement and good sportsmanship Wednesday just could not translate over the radio.

Francesa’s “interviews” should be required listening for every journalism student, because they’re living, breathing examples of what interviewers shouldn’t do. His questions are really just rambling statements and his interviewees are window dressing placed there to absorb his blustering verbiage.

It took Francesa about 10 seconds to interrupt Pecora:

Mike: “Welcome in the head coach of Hofstra, Tom Pecora. Tom, welcome.”
Tom: “Thanks Mike. [Next words are inaudible because Francesa interrupts him]

Francesa’s world-sized ego (that New Yorker piece is long but well worth the time investment…great stuff), dueling agendas and contempt for just about everyone not named Mike Francesa—but particularly ink-stained wretches who produce the work that he comments upon—makes it nearly impossible to listen to his show.

“I could do that job on one foot,” Francesa told Newsday in 2004. “You have all day to work on your story, while I’ve gotta react 25 hours a week live. God, that’s an easy job.”

Of course, what did Francesa do throughout the interview with Pecora? Stare down at a couple newspapers as well as a packet of notes that I imagine was the Hofstra pre-game hoops release.

Francesa also told Newsday that talking to fans on the air is “…part of the job, but they need to remember that we’re the experts here.” Which, of course, explains why he appeared to have no idea Davidson star Stephen Curry was held scoreless last week against Loyola (MD).

Mike: “And the Pride [editor’s note: All would be forgiven, Mike, if you just referred to Hofstra as the Flying Dutchmen] are off to a 4-1 start. And Tom’s got himself another flashy guard in this Charles Jenkins, right? When you’ve got a college guard scoring 20 points a game, that’s a flashy guard, ‘cause you don’t get a lot of guys in college scoring 20 points. He’s averaging 23. That might not mean much to the kid down with McKillop. Other than that, that’s pretty good, 23 points a game.”
Tom: “[Curry] had zero the other night, didn't he? You heard about that game?”
Mike: “He had zero points?”
Tom: “Yeah. They played a team and the team put two guys on him and he didn’t score. But they lost by 30. So they put two guys on him.”
Mike: “Well why would you do that if you’re a coach?”
Tom: “I don’t know, I’m just telling you that’s what I heard.”
Mike: “And Bobby won by 30?”
Tom: “Yeah. He put him in the corner with the other two defenders.”
Mike: “Well, I mean, if you’re gonna do that, what…what…what…wouldn’t you, after the game, go up to the coach and say to him ‘What were you trying to prove?’”

Tom: “I don’t know, I didn’t do it, Mike." [laughs]

Eventually, after digressing into a rant about how unprepared Greg Oden is for the NBA, Francesa finally got back around to asking Pecora about, you know, college basketball in the area and his team in particular. Pecora mentioned that the Dutchmen travel so much in the CAA that they like to play metro teams during the non-conference slate.

That inspired the following:

Mike: “Your president’s gotta get—listen: He’s a shrewd guy. He got a debate in his building. He’s got a medical school opening at Hofstra. But one thing he’s gotta do is he’s gotta get his act together and realize you need to be in the Atlantic 10. You cannot be in a league where every year you’ve gotta play most of your games in Virginia and get beat up by those Virginia schools…"

Tom: *shifts in his seat, arches his eyebrows, clearly thinking of ways to turn this into inspirational fodder for the Dutchmen*
Mike: “…and get reffed out of the building by those Virginia schools and then go play the tournament in those Virginia schools. You’re never going to win there. It’s impossible. Your best Hofstra teams…"
Tom: *licks lips, looks away* “Well, anyway…” *laughs and pats Francesa on the shoulder*

Well, anyway indeed. Pecora’s best teams—the back-to-back-to-back NIT squads from 2003-06—went 10-6 against the Virginia schools in Virginia (counting the CAA tourney). Not bad for a team that just gets beat up by all those Virginia schools.

In Francesa’s defense, it took me all day to find the Hofstra basketball media guide and turn to page 138.

Mike: “Your best Hofstra teams, really good teams, never won that league.”
Tom: “No, we played in the championship once. One year, we played in the championship game, lost to Wilmington. And that was the year we got slighted by the tournament committee.

(I just included that because it’s always appropriate)

Mike: “It’s true. But it’s a very tough thing to do.”

Yeah, but I figure it just got a lot easier. Like most blusterous know-it-alls, Francesa doesn’t know nearly as much as he thinks he does. I remember the smug certainty with which he believed the Yankees would not blow a three games to none lead to the Red Sox in the 2004 ALCS. (Of course, in fairness to Francesa, that had never happened before) He once said Paul McCartney was a better guitarist than John Lennon. Except McCartney’s a bassist. (In other news, I write better with my left hand than Sully Ray.)

Earlier this season, Francesa dismissed the surging Tampa Bay Rays by asking those who thought the Rays were for real to come back to him in August. On Aug. 1, the Rays led the AL East by three games. On Oct. 27, the Rays lost to the Phillies in the fifth and final game of the World Series.

I remember driving around in the early part of the 1996 NFL season, when the Jets—fresh off a 3-13 season—were looking even worse in their second and final year under Rich Kotite. Someone called in and wondered what the Jets would do if they “earned” the no. 1 draft pick again.

Francesa and Russo began hollering at the guy, treating him as if he’d just said he hated puppies and kittens and the ice cream man, and Francesa boldly declared there was no way in hell that was happening and hung up on the guy. I always hoped that guy called back in January, after the Jets went on the clock with a 1-15 season, and told Francesa he had no idea what he was talking about.

So if—nay, when—Hofstra wins the CAA in March, Francesa will have Pecora on the day after the title game and he’ll a.) never mention he guaranteed the Dutchmen could not win the conference, b.) act as if he knew it would happen all along and c.) make it all about him.

“Listen, Tom, that kid you’ve got there, Jenkins…that’s the kind of star who can carry you to a championship, and that’s what he did. I was saying that to you in December. I knew it all along. You went down there and beat up those Virginia schools just like I figured you would.

“But listen, Tom, I was watching that game on ESPN and thinking about how I broadcast the game in 2000 and 2001. Your president’s a shrewd guy, he got a debate, he's got a medical school. But one thing he’s gotta do is he’s gotta get his act together and realize you need to host the conference title game…”

Email Jerry at defiantlydutch@yahoo.com.

Hofstra 60, Fordham 40 (Or: I’ll take those odds that March is the good kind of Mad)

I know exactly how she feels. I mean, aside from the caffeine pills. And the part where she later stars in the worst movie ever made.

I’m a cynic, for reasons too numerous to mention here for fear of boring you silly. The ironic thing, in that it’s not really ironic at all, is that my transformation began at Hofstra, where I grew discouraged by the bottom-line mentality the school so often displayed (geez, can you imagine how angry I’d be today?), how little my communications degree prepared me for a career in journalism (in Hofstra’s defense, this was before the School of Communication was founded) and how I already knew I was headed for a dying field run by soulless capitalist pigs who viewed people like me with abject contempt.

Where was I? Oh yes. Not listing the reasons I’m a cynic.

Anyway, this is ironic (but not really) because the one thing I remain optimistic about is Flying Dutchmen basketball. During the first year in the NAC, when Hofstra finished in last place but blew Maine out in a play-in game to advance to a quarterfinal contest at top-seeded Drexel, I annoyed Loyal Reader Rob—something I do, err, did quite often—by repeatedly asking him how we’d be able to cover the Flying Dutchmen in the NAC title game, scheduled for a Wednesday night, which was the night The Chronicle went to press.

“Beach,” Rob finally said, “there is no way in hell we’re making the title game.”

“But what if we do?”

“Then I guess I’ll cover the game, won’t I?”

Of course, Malik Rose went for 50 and 25 (give or take a few buckets and boards), Drexel beat Hofstra 187-23 (give or take a few points), Rob, Sully Ray and I drowned our disappointment in cheese steaks and Rob had four days to write his story.

Last year, I lost count of how many times I saw the Dutchmen beat an inferior opponent and convinced myself they could win four straight games in Richmond and make the NCAA Tournament. “They’ve won more than two games in a row just once all year, it’s still good, it’s still good…they’re the ninth seed, it’s still good, it’s still good…Towson is winning 31-13 at the half, it’s still good, it’s still good…”

(Two “Lisa The Vegetarian” references in two days. I’m streaking!)

All that brings me to last night, and a resounding 60-40 win over Fordham at the Arena that sent me rushing home to book a trip to the Final Four. (OK, maybe they won’t make the Final Four, but I’m more convinced than ever the Dutchmen ARE going to dance this year, and it has nothing to do with what happened last night…come back later today to find out why.)

The unbridled optimist in me says this was 40 minutes of the best-case scenario. Four players scored in double figures. The Dutchmen held a 47-29 rebounding edge. Four reserves played at least 10 minutes apiece, something accomplished just once in the first five games—against Clemson, not Old Westbury. More than once—and for more than just a few seconds—Tom Pecora fielded a lineup that featured one starter and four reserves.

Charles Jenkins, the one-man show, tied for the team lead with 11 points and added a career-high nine assists before he took a seat in the final two minutes for walk-on David Vallins.

Miklos Szabo made me and Sully Ray’s dad—not to mention Pecora—look pretty prescient by draining two 3-pointers, scoring 10 points and pulling down eight boards. After the second 3-pointer, Sully Ray summed things up nicely: “That changes everything.”

Szabo’s performance sent him a long way towards earning a completely original and complementary nickname for Michael Litos. It was a good thing for Szabo last Saturday that “Dunking Dutchman” and “Mad Hungarian” were already taken.

Zygis Sestakos lives! The hot-and-cold outsider shooter, who played five minutes combined in the last three games and didn’t get off the bench at all against Manhattan, played 25 minutes, scored 11 points, hit three of his five 3-pointers and generally looked like the weapon he was in 2006-07.

Most encouraging of all was seeing Greg Washington played like the Greg Washington whose absence was believed to be the missing piece to the 2006-07 puzzle, not the 6-foot-10 enigma wrapped in a riddle adorned in a Hofstra uniform. He set career highs with 10 points and 11 rebounds and added four blocks in 23 minutes. Entering the game, he’d collected four points, seven rebounds and three blocks in 29 minutes—all season.

He hit shots from outside and enjoyed an 11-second sequence midway through the first half when he blocked a shot, raced down the court and ended the fast break with a dunk. Now if Washington can continue such play for more than 20 minutes a game, THAT changes everything.

Cornelius Vines didn’t reach double figures, but the only two baskets he hit were Agudio-like, dagger 3-pointers in the final minute of the first half that turned a one-point deficit into a five-point lead.

The Dutchmen were so deep Wednesday that Darren Townes started but played just 11 minutes despite grabbing four boards and picking up no fouls. On Saturday, he played 24 minutes and recorded as many rebounds as fouls (three). Dane Johnson, the other returning front court starter, didn’t start for the first time this year and played just 10 minutes. Tony Dennison started but played fewer than 20 minutes for the third time. Arminas Urbutis played only six minutes and sat out the second half for the second straight game.

So to see this thorough victory on another inconsistent night for the rest of the CAA—Delaware lost to my safety school, which means that if not for abnormally good grades at community college, I’d be gushing over Central Connecticut’s victory at Blissfully Blue Devils—inspires wonder.

As in: I wonder if Pecora can do this every night? Can he make preparing for Hofstra sheer hell by throwing different lineups, big and small, out there? If Wednesday is a sign of things to come, then I wonder if picking the Dutchmen fourth was the pessimistic projection, not the optimistic one.

But then I wonder if I’m just merely going mad. Fordham is winless and threatening to give New Jersey Tech a run for its money as the most downtrodden team ‘round these parts. The first half was generally unimpressive as the Rams and Dutchmen swapped the lead. Free throw shooting is still an adventure (5-for-11 Wednesday, 60.4% for the year). College hoops in the tri-state area is so down so far that calling Hofstra the best team it has to offer—as the Daily News’ Sean Brennan did in his excellent new local hoops blog—is not quite the complement it used to be.

And it IS still only the first week of December. Even if Hofstra is better than anybody thought, and even if the CAA is less top-heavy than most of us thought, the conference schedule will still be as challenging as ever. So much can change over the next 12 weeks. History is littered with teams that thrived in December and were nowhere to be found in March. I don’t want to be That Guy, the one everyone glares at in March.

But…but Litos says I gave him something to think about during his daughter’s Christmas concert. And if Litos thinks I might be on to something, well, then I wonder if I really might be on to something. That, in turn, makes me really eager for Saturday against Towson, and I wonder if it’ll be the earliest legitimate barometer game I can recall.

And then I wonder if I can convince my wife we should go to the game. C’mon dear. It’s only three-and-a-half hours each way. We’ll listen to Weezer in the car, I promise.

Email Jerry at defiantlydutch@yahoo.com.

We’re no. 1! We’re no. 1!

You just led the New York Jets to the most stunning upset in pro football history. What are you going to do next, Joe Namath? "I'm going to Hofstra USA!"

It’s true. Hofstra sits atop the standings page at the CAA's official site. Oh sure, conference play hasn’t started yet (T-minus four days until the lone conference game until January, which is a lot like allowing a starving man into a five-star restaurant and kicking him out after salad), so the standings are only based on overall winning percentage.

Never mind that nine CAA teams have played more games than Hofstra. And sure, of the four teams the Flying Dutchmen have beaten thus far, the one most likely to advance to a national tournament come March is Division III Old Westbury.

Nor has Hofstra been racking up the style points against Division I foes. The season opener against Clemson is shaping up to be the Flying Dutchmen’s showcase non-conference game—and it was one they dropped by a mere 29 points. Their three wins—against teams that are a combined 8-10—have all been by four points or less. If not for the regular late-game brilliance of Charles Jenkins, the Dutchmen would probably be 1-4.

But it’s those narrow wins that provide the reason for early encouragement. Entering play Tuesday, there were 137 mid-major teams that had won at least three games. (I didn’t count the BCS conferences, because, well, screw them. They’ll get 32 at-large bids and any Big Six team with a .500 record will play in a postseason tournament. So who cares about their early-season performance, since it doesn’t matter at all come March?)

Anyway, of those 137 mid-majors, guess how many have won three games by four points or less. (Pause as you ponder)

Two. Hofstra and Mercer—the latter of which is ranked ninth in SI.com’s mid-major poll and 10th in the Collegeinsider.com poll.

Hofstra is, understandably, nowhere to be found in the SI.com poll and a distant 41st in the Collegeinsider rankings (alas, “We’re no. 41!” doesn’t quite roll off the tongue). But the resiliency is notable, especially in a CAA that, as Michael Litos pointed out Monday, hasn’t gotten off to a very promising start overall.

The consensus top four preseason picks have all stumbled. Overwhelming favorite VCU is in a lot of trouble if Eric Maynor is really playing as if he’s disinterested. Northeastern scored 37 points in a loss to South Florida, which is ugly but excusable, right after it lost to former America East foe Boston, which is not quite as acceptable.

Old Dominion, 11-7 in games decided by four or fewer points the previous three years, is 1-2 in such contests thus far. George Mason looked just as discombobulated as I’d hoped (err, expected) in a narrow loss to Liberty Monday. (Is it too late, by the way, to pick Liberty to win the CAA?)

It’s early, but what if these slow starts aren’t a fluke for the CAA favorites? What if they spend time—a week, two weeks, a month, three months—trying to find their leader and discover their passion?

Hofstra is lacking for neither. The more time the other teams spend trying to find one or both, the better for the Flying Dutchmen. Even a Homer like me didn’t think Hofstra had the most talented team in the CAA entering the season. But what if talent’s not the determining factor this year?

***

The Flying Dutchmen won’t win any style points tonight, either, when they take on winless Fordham at the Arena. I do hope they win by more than four, though, because looking up all the results for the mid-majors with three or more wins was tedious. Oh who am I kidding, I had nothing else to do.

Regardless of what happens, check back here early Thursday morning for a recap. I haven’t been quite as prompt as I’d like with the recaps, but I’ll begin rectifying that tomorrow.

If you’re going tonight, see you there. I’ll be the guy yelling about Matt Carpenter. And hey, maybe Hofstra can spare a second to finally acknowledge the passing of Joe Margiotta.

Email Jerry at defiantlydutch@yahoo.com.

In which I make a rare departure from commenting solely on Hofstra sports to wish my wife a happy anniversary

The most momentous day in Defiantly Dutch history occurred exactly 14 years ago tonight, and it had nothing to do with sports on campus. I was pacing around my tiny corner dorm room at Vander Poel Hall, watching this thing that used to show music videos and looking for decent clothes to wear for an impending first date, when Weezer’s “Buddy Holly” appeared on my screen.

And at that moment, I thought to myself, holy smokes, this might be my last first date ever. I might end up marrying that really cute news writer from The Chronicle named Michelle.

Sure, the bolt of lightning should have hit me while I was listening to something terribly cheesy, like this. But for some reason, the unabashed ebullience of the “Buddy Holly” song and video—the best and most brilliant video ever made, in my modest opinion—summed up how I was already feeling about Michelle.

I mean, geez, she liked sports as much as me. Our unofficial introduction occurred when she won the weekly football pool at the office and I grouched about how I couldn’t believe I lost to a girl. And our unofficial first date was the result of a bet: I bet my favorite NFL team, the then-godawful Tampa Bay Buccaneers, would cover the spread against the equally crappy Seattle Seahawks. The loser had to buy the winner lunch at the Student Center. A girl who understood gambling? Sign me up!

She thought Jay Wright was really cute, but found the beauty in the subtle games of Darius Burton and Jason Hernandez. She thought spending Arctic-type “spring” afternoons watching the Hofstra baseball team was a great idea, not a sign she should immediately dump me. She agreed that going to North Carolina to see Hofstra play UCLA in 2001 was something we had to do, even though I was unemployed and she was in grad school.

She doesn’t wonder why I spend so much time playing fantasy sports, she’s the competition. She’s the yin to my yang, the one who sat sadly silent on Selection Sunday 2006, opening her mouth only to say how bad she felt for the Flying Dutchmen, while I unleashed a stream of profanity that would make Eddie Murphy, circa 1983, blush.

Her favorite baseball player is Derek Jeter. I think he’s hilariously overrated, and love her anyway.

I’d like to sit here and tell you I took her to a five-star restaurant and then the opera 14 years ago tonight, but that’d be a lie. Like thousands of young Long Islanders doing the mating dance, we went out for pizza and then went bowling, and I managed to get through the night without my heart exploding out of my chest.

A month later, she met my best friends from back home. During the first minute or so in the car on the way back from Long Island, something along the line of “She’s the one, Beach” tumbled out of their mouths. But the words I remember most came from Chronicle editor-in-chief Jeff.

“Don’t screw this one up,” he said.

I like to think I didn’t. Happy anniversary, dear. Hanging out with Sully Ray is fun, but I’d still rather sit next to you at basketball games.

Email Jerry at defiantlydutch@yahoo.com.

Hofstra 65, Manhattan 61 (Or: Hey DJ, keep playing that song all night, on and on and on…)

Yes. Yes they did.

You’ll have to take my word for it, or the word of Sully Ray, who was kind enough to drive when we went out to Manhattan—which is actually in the Bronx—Saturday night to watch the Flying Dutchmen take on the Jaspers. (In return, I told Sully I’d drive to Stony Brook…oh yeah, that’s a fair trade-off: He deals with several highways and tolls and airport traffic and terrible New York drivers and a crazy parking situation in exchange for me driving in a straight line to a suburban campus 11 days later. Good deal!)

Even though Hofstra trailed Manhattan by six at the half and by as many as 10 in the opening seconds of the second half, I never really doubted the Dutchmen would win—which they did, 65-61. I haven’t felt that in a while…certainly not last year, and not a whole lot the year before, when Hofstra won a lot of close games but never in inspiring fashion.

And I knew it’d be a victorious night at the first TV timeout of the second half, when whomever is in charge of the music at Manhattan (can’t really call him/her a DJ, since, you know, he/she didn’t play this song, or this one, or this one) played Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m Goin’ Down”—with Manhattan UP 39-36!

I mean, I know I shouldn’t bash what anyone else plays during timeouts, since Hofstra’s still using a Now! CD from like 1999 during its timeouts. But c’mon. There’s plenty of good Bruce to play that could have foretold a victory for the Jaspers instead of certain defeat, including his stellar new song “Workin’ On A Dream.” Or “Born To Run.” Or even the perpetually misunderstood “Glory Days,” which Loyal Reader Rob and I drunkenly “sang” at Fezziwig’s after Rick and Ted left the stage one night in the fall of ’94.

Jerry and Rob, neither of whom is pictured above, sing at Fezziwig's. “Now I think I’m going down to the well tonight and I’m going to drink ‘til I get my fill…and I hope when I get old I don’t sit around blogging about it, but I probably will.”

Where was I? Oh yes. Bad musical choices by the DJ-who’s-not-really-a-DJ. At the eight-minute media timeout, with Hofstra up 50-49, Velvet Revolver’s “Fall To Pieces” played. I guess “Welcome to the Jungle” or “Interstate Love Song” didn’t make the cut. Or Faith No More.

Anyway, I felt good about the Flying Dutchmen Saturday because they were down six at the half with Charles Jenkins scoring two points. I would have bet a month’s rent that Jenkins would score well into double digits in the second half. The Dutchmen were due for a pretty good run, and you had to figure Jenkins would lead it. Nineteen points in the second half surprised me a bit, but was anyone shocked he scored the final six?

Sully Ray and I had different takes on Jenkins’ 21-point effort. He thought it was a bit worrisome that the Flying Dutchmen still seem to be a one-man show in the waning minutes. I said the first half—when Jenkins mostly ran the point and took just four shots—was proof Tom Pecora is trying to turn the Dutchmen into a team with multiple weapons. And the reliance on Jenkins doesn’t look so extreme if Tony Dennison doesn’t slip on the floor on the fast break with under a minute left and the Dutchmen trying to add to a two-point lead.

That said, there were plenty of familiar sights beyond Jenkins’ second half surge—like the seven-man rotation, the 7-for-17 performance from the line and an offense built largely on guard play.

Pecora started three guards, and Jenkins, Dennison and Cornelius Vines combined for 45 points. Pecora made only five substitutions in the final 18 minutes, four of which involved trading Darren Townes for Greg Washington.

The other one was necessitated when Vines took a knee to the head, mere minutes after he appeared to be bleeding from the lip. He had to be helped from the floor and figured he was out for the night, especially when he seemed to be shaking out the cobwebs on the sideline, but he returned just two minutes later and played the rest of the game. Moral of the story: Nobody will ever question Vines’ toughness.

The reliance on guards wasn’t quite as lopsided as it appeared in the box score. Arminas Urbutis played 13 minutes in the first half, picked up three fouls and didn’t see the court in the second half.

Dane Johnson almost surely won’t have another dud like he did Saturday, when he opened the game by missing two shots inside the paint, finished with one point and three boards and ended up playing just nine minutes, none at all in the final 18:04.

Miklos Szabo had a pretty rough night himself: He put the Dutchmen in a 2-0 hole before the first tip by dunking during the pre-game. He should have saved it for when it counted, since he was 1-for-6 from the field and 0-for-3 from the line. Szabo also authored an incredibly ugly sequence late in the second half when he missed an uncontested jumper, grabbed the board and was immediately whistled for traveling.

But you’ve got to be pretty good to play 32 minutes with that kind of line, and he did pull down 12 rebounds—pretty notable for a team that got outrebounded 41-39. Alas, I don’t think “Hungarian Hands” is quite the nickname Michael Litos was seeking for Szabo.

I’m not surprised Pecora went with the tried-and-true in an attempt to pull out another narrow win away from home, especially just five games into the season. But I don’t think he wants games such as this to remain the norm, so if this continues, I won’t be surprised if he dips into his motivational bag and does something like he did against Northeastern in Boston in 2007, when he benched all five starters early in the game to prove a point.

“I told them when I took them out ‘if I have to lose this game to make us know how we have to play in order to win a championship in March, I’ll do it,’” Pecora told Newsday after the game.

Of course, it didn’t work then (the Dutchmen lost 84-74) or later (Hofstra was knocked out of the CAA tourney in the quarterfinals by George Mason). It was, though, all the proof Pecora needs to know the tried and true probably won’t result in a trip to the NCAA Tournament—even in a potentially down year for the CAA. More on that later today.

Email Jerry at defiantlydutch@yahoo.com.

RIP Joe Margiotta

Joe Margiotta, the Long Island political legend who was one of the most pivotal figures in Hofstra history, died Friday at the age of 81 following a brief hospitalization. Newsday has done a nice job this weekend of summarizing Margiotta’s life and the legacy he left on the Nassau County Republican Party, which was among the most powerful in the nation during Margiotta's tenure as its chairperson.

I certainly hope the lack of a similar retrospective at the official Hofstra site (as of the time of this posting) about his impact on the school is a matter of Hofstra being closed for the long Thanksgiving weekend and not something more sinister or careless. To not acknowledge Margiotta would confirm, in far colder teams than I could have envisioned, that those now running Hofstra have no real attachment to the University or its traditions.

It’s one thing to ignore the days of Division III football and East Coast Conference hoops. Say what you want about Margiotta’s colorful past—I wasn’t at Hofstra when Margiotta Hall was built, but I remember reading plenty of clips in The Chronicle critical of the University’s continued support of Margiotta following his imprisonment—but it’d be something else entirely to ignore a man who was one of Hofstra’s most prideful grads.

Margiotta, who enrolled at Hofstra in 1946 after serving in the Navy during World War II and played for the Flying Dutchmen football team with James Shuart, often referred to his relationship with Hofstra as a five-decade love affair. And unlike the rest of us, he spoke as much with his wallet as his lungs.

According to his biography in the 2007 football media guide (page 69), he helped land state approval for the law school at Hofstra as well as the original Unispan. Margiotta served the University in a variety of capacities and was among the founders of the Pride Club as well as its predecessor, the Fifty for Hofstra Club.

In his biography, Margiotta was described as “…an ardent and faithful fan, whose attendance at Hofstra athletic events would be hard to match.” He was most passionate, though, about football. Margiotta was the most vocal advocate of upgrading the program and facilities and hand-picked Joe Gardi to become the head coach in 1990, a decision that led to previously unimaginable prosperity for the Flying Dutchmen.

And Margiotta Hall wasn’t named after him because he was the highest bidder after the fact. The first time I met Margiotta was when he sat in on my season preview interview with Gardi in August 1994. It was a little different than any interview I’d ever done, but I was smart enough to figure out that if Joe Margiotta wanted to sit in on an interview conducted inside a building that he built, well, he could do that.

Margiotta continued to dream big about Hofstra football, which he hoped would someday make the leap to Division I-A, but the current powers that be did not share his enthusiasm for a sport that loses the school money by the buckets. And it was impossible not to notice that Margiotta seemed to become another long-time Hofstra athletic figure whose impact was marginalized under the new regime: His biography was not included in this year’s football media guide for the first time since I began following the team in 1994.

Such an absence is inexcusable. So, too, would a continued lack of acknowledgment about Margiotta’s life and legacy by Hofstra.

Email Jerry at defiantlydutch@yahoo.com.

There but for the grace of Jim...

This used to be the Gaels' playground...

The news flew under the radar last week, but Iona disbanded its football program, effective immediately. It was a predictable demise precipitated by age-old—or at least decade-old—factors.

Iona doesn’t award football scholarships, which made it as relevant on the Division I-AA landscape as the newspaper in the dotcom world. Even more damaging to the Gaels was the collapse of MAAC football, which had 10 teams at its peak but which saw most of its member schools drop football earlier this decade. The MAAC was down to four teams last year, but Duquense left for the Northeast Conference, Marist bolted for the Pioneer Football League, which is the only non-scholarship I-AA conference in the land, and LaSalle disbanded its program.

Iona declined an invite to the PFL and found it nearly impossible to fill out a schedule or compete as an independent. The Gaels went 3-8, but recorded all three victories against Division II or Division III foes by a grand total of 13 points and were 0-7 against Division I-AA opponents.

A loss to Division III Wesley began a season-ending six-game losing streak in which the Gaels lost by more than 30 points three times lost by more than 40 points twice—including a 68-9 thrashing at the hands of Stony Brook. (So, if Stony Brook was 59 points better than Iona, then Hofstra would have beaten the Gaels 99-0) Iona’s closest game against an I-AA opponent was its last, a 23-7 loss to I-AA rookie Bryant.

Decisions like this make me glad I’m not a college president or athletic director. From a bottom line perspective, it’s tough to argue with the decision to dump the program. Even at the non-scholarship level, it was surely hemorrhaging money, and to make football relevant again, even in the Pioneer, Iona would have had to follow in the footsteps of Georgetown and infuse cash into upgrading the program and facilities. Iona’s Mazzella Field, which had the lowest seating capacity of any Division I or I-AA stadium, looked like a high school field.

And all that expense for…what, exactly? As we’ve all learned over the past 15 years, even an I-AA program that consistently wins is little more than a curiosity to the general public. If you’re not competing for a BCS berth, nobody cares except a tiny fraction of the alums. And the last game at Iona drew 483 fans. That’s not a misprint.

But that tiny fraction is passionate about the sport. This was the 31st season of football at Iona, which began as a Division III program in 1978 and made an NCAA-mandated move to I-AA in 1991. That’s thousands of alums who donned the shoulder pads and are now quite sore at the alma mater. And there are surely hundreds, if not thousands, of fans who took pride in rooting for a football team at a basketball school and continued to follow the team well beyond graduation. They’re surely not happy today.

The demise of Iona football got me thinking about Flying Dutchmen football and what could have been had Hofstra not upgraded the program at the behest of a passionate and rather powerful alum—school president and former football player James Shuart.

Like Iona, Hofstra jumped from D-III to I-AA in 1991. But unlike Iona, which had a natural home for all its sports in the MAAC, Hofstra had to make the move to I-AA during a turbulent time for the athletic department. The East Coast Conference was in its final season and down to just seven teams in 1991-92, and all four football-playing schools (Buffalo, Central Connecticut and Towson State were the others) were independents making the same transition as Hofstra.

Fortunately for Hofstra, being an independent in the early ‘90s wasn’t the scarlet letter it is today. According to the 1994 football media guide, 17 of the 116 I-AA teams were independents. (Thanks to Jim Sheehan for including the list, no doubt realizing how handy it would be for me 14 years later) This year, it was six out of 125.

The scheduling challenges remained, though, and played a huge role in Hofstra missing the playoffs following a breakout 8-1-1 season in 1994. “Maybe it would be easier if we were in the Yankee [Conference],” Joe Gardi told Newsday in a story published Nov. 29, 1994.

Shuart traveled to the NCAA Convention in January 1995 to personally pitch Hofstra’s candidacy to the Yankee Conference. But despite Shuart’s enthusiasm, the seemingly natural fit, Hofstra’s continued success—the Dutchmen proved to be no fluke by going 10-2 and earning a playoff berth in 1995, the first of four postseason appearances it would make in a six-year span—and the addition of scholarships, getting into the Yankee took so long that it was called the Atlantic 10 when it finally accepted Hofstra for the 2001 season.

And by that time, being in a conference was a necessity, not a luxury. The 17 independents from 1994 had either upgraded to Division I, landed in a I-AA conference or disbanded the program by the start of the 2001 season. (Thanks to this site was an invaluable resource in figuring out where everyone went between 1994 and now)

So what would have happened if Shuart wasn’t the program’s biggest booster? Would Hofstra football have beaten Iona to the where-are-they-now file?

Probably not. Even back at the beginning of the I-AA days, Hofstra football appeared too big to fail (you know, like America’s banks). Hofstra Stadium was one of the better facilities in I-AA and the multi-million dollar Margiotta Hall opened in 1992. And football at Hofstra began in 1937, which makes it almost as old as the school itself.

Even without Shuart’s encouragement, Hofstra probably would have ended up moving into the Atlantic 10 for football, since the A-10 housed all the football-playing CAA schools.

There’s no doubt, though, that Hofstra made the move into the upper echelon of I-AA programs at the right time, because it’d never happen today. Shuart, who retired in 2001, is merely a big fan of the program and the school is now run by a president and athletic director whose passion for the sport is directly tied to the bottom line…which is ugly and getting worse.

Even if the program is a giant money loser, there’s too much invested in and around Shuart Stadium to pull the plug. It doesn’t make much sense for the stadium to merely host graduations, Hofstra lacrosse games and the Long Island high school football championships.

It will be interesting, though, to see what happens when the fledgling programs at Old Dominion and Georgia State complete their transition periods and join the CAA in 2011 and 2012, respectively. A 14-team conference is just about unmanageable. Will Hofstra take one for the CAA by volunteering to downgrade the program to the partial or non-scholarship level? Getting rid of scholarships and competing in the Pioneer would surely save the school huge chunks of change, even accounting for the travel expenses in the coast-to-coast league.

Such a decision would be a disappointing one, but it would sure beat the alternative. Just ask fans of Iona football.

(PS: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!)

Email Jerry at defiantlydutch@yahoo.com.