Month: January 2016

One year of the Underdog!

Posted on by DylanHornik

I don’t know if anyone realized it, but 365 days ago today I published the first post on this site. I came in the with idea that maybe my mom would read it (she actually didn’t know about it until about three months in) and a couple of my friends would skim it and patronize me (which probably still happens). Little did I know that The Underdog would amass well over 10,000 views in the last year across 56 countries (these are real numbers!!) and it would lead me to the opportunity to write on other websites (shoutout to Gotham Sports Network and Bronx Pinstripes). Basically, I would like to thank anyone who’s ever read one of my articles for helping me out so much.

Anniversary week got me thinking about the very title of this site. What does it mean to be an underdog? It doesn’t necessarily mean winning when the odds are stacked against you. To me, it means showing courage, determination, passion, and grace in the face of adversity, and making a lasting impact on everyone around you.

The underdog spirit is embodied perfectly, I think, in former Butler center Andrew Smith, who passed away earlier this month after a two-year battle with cancer.

Smith was on the two Butler teams that made it to back-to-back Final Fours in 2010 and 2011. He wasn’t the star, though. He was a reserve for the first team in his freshman year, then started as a sophomore for the 2011 team that lost to Connecticut. Smith averaged 8.5 points and 5.6 rebounds per game in 32 starts, far from “star” caliber numbers that Matt Howard had that year, who averaged 16 points and eight rebounds per contest. However, by all accounts, Smith was the heart and soul of the team. Now, that is said about a lot of athletes, but not usually about a guy that went on to work for a financial services company after his time in college.

Celtics coach Brad Stevens, who coached Smith at Butler, left his team to go down to Indianapolis for the funeral. He tweeted this of Smith:

When Smith was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma in January of 2014, it went largely unnoticed by the world of basketball because of his minute stature in the game. That shouldn’t be. Team sports pride themselves on being a brotherhood, a fraternity of sorts, but for the most part the guys like Smith, who are deserve the respect that comes with being a basketball player because of how he inspired his teammates and touched the basketball world at his death.

We love college dropouts. We cherish and laud the basketball players that never get a degree, then make millions for being naturally blessed with athleticism that 99 percent of people don’t have. Children grow up to try to be like the three-hundredths of one percent of high school seniors who make it to the NBA, instead of going to college to focus on their academics and future career paths. Andrew Smith needs to be a model of what kids should try to be; he got to play, got his degree, got a job, and lived life the way he wanted to for 25 years. Not only did he have his priorities in order, but he was able to live life to the fullest because of his priorities.

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Smith wasn’t a rags-to-riches story like LeBron James or Caron Butler (who’s story is also really interesting). He was born and raised in a small town in Indiana to loving parents and got a good education. His underdog story lies in his backseat role on the Final Four teams, his arduous and courageous battle with cancer, and his impact on everyone around him. Courage, passion, and grace in the face of adversity. Smith was definitely an underdog in his time with us.

“As an Academic All-American, he represented the best of Butler in the classroom and on the court,” Butler said in a statement after Smith’s passing. “Above all else, what made Andrew special was the way that he genuinely cared for others. Within his large frame was an even larger heart. He is, was, and always will be a Bulldog.”

Smith was, and always will be, a superior role model and underdog who did everything the right way. I’m honored to be able to keep part of Smith’s spirit alive through this website, and I hope the next 365 days are as fruitful as the last.

The Immortal Memories of Mike Piazza

Posted on by DylanHornik

It finally happened.

After three tantalizingly close calls, Mike Piazza was finally elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame on Wednesday. For scores of Mets fans around the country, the blue and orange number 31 floods the mind with memories of clutch hits, postseason success, and a promising time for the New York Mets.

Take the 2000 season. Piazza, in what would become his last great year, produced the finest numbers of his career. He hit .324 with 38 homers and finished third in the MVP voting. He took the Mets, with a long track record of disappointment since their inception, from a Wild Card berth to the National League pennant. His name could conjure up images of the tense frenzy that New York was in that October, when the Mets squared off against the mighty Yankees and pitted coworkers, friends, couples, and family members against each other. The Yankees may have won, but Piazza established himself and the 2000 Mets as one of the best stories of the turn of the century.

Then there was 2001. Piazza belted 35 mundane, run-of-the-mill homers that any eventual legend would demolish over the course of a season. There was one, though, that will stand out in baseball lore as one of the most recognizable dingers in history, and lifted a city’s spirits like no other round-tripper had until that point, and none has since then. On September 21st, 2001, ten days after the attacks on the World Trade Center, with a city in ruins and millions in despair, Piazza stepped to the plate down a run in the 8th inning. He belted a 2-run bomb to centerfield and led the Mets to a 4-3 win. This homer has become synonymous with the aftermath of 9/11 and drove the city to pick themselves up and grow back stronger. This memory, shrouded in dismay, is the bright spot that changed the course of emotion in New York.

Maybe you’re thinking of May 5, 2004, when Mike Piazza passed Carlton Fisk for the most home runs by a catcher in MLB history. The Mets were just awful for a three-year stretch from 2002 to 2004, when they didn’t win more than 75 games in a season. Piazza continued to be a bright spot, though, clobbering 64 homers in two-plus seasons, (he played in only 68 games in 2003) including this one to put himself among the legends of the game. The record-breaking homer recalls memories of what could otherwise be forgettable; a really bad baseball team with a future Hall of Famer hitting third.

Above all of this, however, I think that Mike Piazza brings back memories of a simpler time. For many of the people who care the most about his career, especially his stay in Queens, the reign of Piazza is eternally linked with memories of grade school, recess, and a spark of interest in baseball. This time frame, for a lot of fans around my age, was a time of baseball purity. We didn’t have real affiliations with a certain team, we didn’t have complicated views on the designated hitter or Pete Rose. We watched baseball with our parents at night, which made us inexplicably happy, and we were amazed at the feats of guys like Piazza (and Ken Griffey, Jr. who was also elected this year) on a nightly basis. We were in awe at the sport, we wanted to be surrounded by it, and we fell in love. Players like Piazza made us want to join Little League and be pro ballplayers. Everyone had a Mets number 31 shirt in elementary school, and it wasn’t just because the last name looked like “pizza.” I looked at mine as a symbol of my new favorite team.

Above anything else, looking back on Mike Piazza’s career bring nostalgia that reignites my love for the game. There aren’t many other players that can do that. Congratulations Mike Piazza and Ken Griffey Jr. on well-deserved Hall of Fame calls. I hope that they can serve as models to younger players to play with a passion that can connect to the fans, like they did.