March 14, 2004: EWU alums flying high over tourney pick

Now the real selection process begins: Fly or drive?

There never was any doubt we were going. For years, my brother Ralph and I had promised each other that if our alma mater, Eastern Washington University, somehow made it to the NCAA men's basketball tournament, we would find a way to go.

Last week, when the Eagles won the Big Sky Conference tournament, Ralph (EWU class of '91) and I (class of '87) spontaneously raced down from the relaxed waistband section of Reese Court to storm the floor and take our place among the body-painted students, where we raised our hands, jumped in place and screamed.

Spawning salmon display more rational behavior.

On Sunday, we returned to Cheney to watch the tournament selection show with 700 other Eagle fans, where we found out there is a key to the entire city of Cheney and they've irresponsibly given it to a bunch of college-age basketball players. We also found out we've got to somehow get to Kansas City, Mo., for the Eagles' first-round matchup with heavily favored Oklahoma State on Friday.

As a No. 15 seed, EWU's choices were limited to two good ones: Kansas City and Orlando, Fla.; and two bad ones: Buffalo, which is the Tacoma of New York, and Columbus, Ohio, which is the Columbus of Ohio.

So we'll gladly take Kansas City.

Now we just have two small hurdles: (1) getting there and (2) getting tickets to the game. We put our names in for tickets and then tried slogging onto the Internet to look for flights, but apparently everyone else was doing the same. When we finally got through to the airlines by phone, all of the flights for Thursday were booked.

We managed to find tickets for Wednesday for $640 each, which is roughly the price of going to every EWU home basketball game - for the next eight seasons.

So we talked about driving. It's 1,600 miles, which means that if we drove straight through, it would take us, according to our math, roughly the rest of our lives. And we'd have to drive through several states whose names we do not know.

But what finally tipped the scales was when my little brother pointed out that on airplanes, they serve drinks.

So we're off to Kansas City, where we plan to serve as unofficial ambassadors for EWU and, indeed, the entire Inland Northwest. When Gonzaga University went to the tournament the first time, its fans had to constantly explain how to pronounce the school's name and where it is located. That shouldn't be a problem for us, although Ralph and I already have prepared our answers:

"Eastern Washington? It's in southern Utah."

"Which part, exactly, are you confused by: the `Washington' part or the `Eastern' part?"

Jess Walter is a former reporter for The Spokesman-Review and author of four books. Ralph Walter is a page designer at The Spokesman-Review and has read four books.

March 15, 2004: Fan, mullet factors give EWU the edge

Not to worry. We've got the opponent scouted.

As we prepare for our trip to Kansas City for the first round of the NCAA basketball tournament (this mostly involves getting clearance from various probation officers), my brother Ralph and I managed to do a full evaluation of the opponent: the Oklahoma State Something-or-Others.

Ralph, being the better basketball player (in the way that one flat tire is better than two), has pored over the two teams and reports that Oklahoma State is bigger and more athletic than our beloved Eastern Washington University Eagles.

Frankly, we can't imagine those things coming into play in basketball.

OSU has a better record, plays in a better conference, has a longer history of success in basketball, is ranked No. 7 in the country and is - according to Las Vegas oddsmakers - a 16-1/2-point favorite.

EWU has a center whose nickname used to be Mullet.

Advantage: EWU.

But basketball is not just about numbers, or haircuts. There is also a little thing the experts call intangibles, what Ralph and I call ... intangibles.

For instance: fan enthusiasm. Oklahoma State's Web site fairly gushes with love for its sports teams, whose colors - orange and ... apparently more orange - are plastered everywhere. As a beaming student on the OSU Web site proudly proclaims: "At OSU, orange is more than a color."

Sorry to break it to you, kid, but it's more than a color here, too. In fact, we're pretty sure orange is also a citrus fruit everywhere. (A quick suggestion for our own inane slogan: At Eastern, we bleed red.)

Advantage: EWU.

In the interest of full disclosure: as a serious student in the mid-1980s (as serious as someone who owned his own beer bong can be) I publicly decried EWU's decision to pursue big-time athletics. Especially since it wasn't likely to ever achieve the big time.

I worried that EWU would sacrifice academics for Division I sports. That's what is so rewarding for alums like Ralph and me as we pack for our first NCAA tournament: this basketball success comes in the midst of a renaissance at almost every level at EWU.

To quote an anonymous grad whom we'll call Jeff Jordan (because that's his name): "Hopefully people will stop apologizing for going to Eastern now."

He's absolutely right.

It's the most disturbing thing about Eastern graduates, the way we spontaneously explain why we attended EWU. I doubt Stanford alums feel compelled to say, "Well, it was close to home and they didn't ask if I had a felony record."

No matter what happens Friday, the Eagle nation should vow to drop that annoying habit. The truth is that EWU is a great state university; like Spokane, it's a nice blend of big and small. It's unpretentious and surprisingly smart.

I have a friend from New York named Tim Kelleher who attended EWU with me and now writes movies and television shows in Los Angeles. He says that Eastern gave him better training than many of his contemporaries got at places like UCLA. It's the same thing I've found in my career as ... OK, I'm unemployed, but I feel much better prepared than some of the other people I know without jobs.

And now I can say that I'm from a basketball powerhouse!

A quick travel update: We're flying. The thing that finally tipped it was the realization that our Southwest Airlines flight had a layover in Las Vegas. (I vaguely remember Ralph once calling me from Vegas to report that he'd just met a very friendly girl. Then he asked how to tell if she was a hooker. I said, "I don't know. Did she use the word date?" Ralph paused for a minute, then said, "Aw crap.")

We also got tickets to the game for $50 each. So we're in, baby! The Walter brothers are going to the big game!

Advantage: OSU.

Jess Walter, EWU class of 1987, is a local author whose third novel will be released in August. Ralph Walter, class of 1991, is a Leo who enjoys ballroom dancing, quiet walks on the beach and movies about arm wrestling.

March 16, 2004: Road trip off to sobering start

As you're reading this, we're finally on our way to Kansas City.

Unless you're one of those hyperdriven, Type A people who wakes up before the crack of 10, in which case, as you're reading this, we're still having breakfast with our dad at the Second Avenue Grill.

Either way, there's a good chance we're still sober. (Although we can't speak for Dad.)

In truth, our itinerary is shaping up as far more appropriate for two middle-age men than for the drunken buffoons who celebrated Eastern Washington University's first-ever trip to the NCAA tournament last week the way Ralph and I celebrate everything: by hugging awkwardly and yelling: "I can't believe it, man!"

On Tuesday, we tried to find actual students driving cross-country for Friday's game against overmatched Oklahoma State. At first we had no luck. Our nephew Chris refused to return our calls. Another student's answering machine said: "A is for academics. B is for beer. One of those reasons is why we're not here."

Finally, we tracked down some intrepid fellow travelers, EWU freshman Alyssa Chambers and her friends Kelsey McFarland, Caitlin Blakeway and some guy named Randy, who was scheduled to be the driver even though Alyssa couldn't remember his last name. They were preparing to leave Cheney at 9 p.m. Tuesday.

"My parents almost didn't let me go," she said.

What's the matter with parents these days? Not allow three freshmen to drive 1,600 miles straight through in a 10-year-old Ford Taurus with a guy whose name you don't know, just hours after finishing a Math 104 final?

While students like Alyssa are traveling the hard way, alumni like Ralph and I will be reclining in the luxurious coach section of a Southwest Airlines jet, laughing at the witty in-flight publications and decorously inquiring of our flight attendant: "I wonder if you might bring us two more of the tiny brown bottles."

Here's our plan so far, and the tab: Airfare to Kansas City by way of Las Vegas: $640 each.

Rental Car: economy class, $60, plus $26 in taxes and fees for three days. (You know you've rented a bad car when the taxes and fees are as almost as expensive as the car. The company promised us a Chevy Cavalier or "something comparable." What's comparable to a Cavalier? Six hundred shares of Martha Stewart stock? Invasive oral surgery?)

Hotel: The Hotel Phillips, Downtown Kansas City: $110 a night. (Actual taped transcript of the phone conversation when making the reservation: "You all coming for the basketball tournament." "Yep." "Where are you all from?" "Eastern Washington." "Where's that?" "Canada." "Really?" "Yep.")

The woman at the reservation desk said she had booked quite a few people from Oklahoma State - our monstrously favored opponent (just since the pairings were announced they somehow jumped from No. 7 to No. 4). Meantime, she said we were the first people from "East Washington" to reserve a room at the hotel.

This is likely to be a recurring theme on our trip. The David and Goliath metaphor extends far beyond the court in this matchup.

For instance, we hopped on eBay to see what sort of memorabilia from the two schools was being auctioned off. It was fairly representative of the athletic reputations of these two public institutions.

There were 45 Oklahoma State items for auction, including blankets, shorts, an OSU bird feeder, a tie, a flag, a flask, pins, bumper stickers, temporary tattoos, an Oklahoma State Barbie and an Oklahoma State "gray-haired female fan." Opening bid: $6.99. (This turned out to be a doll, so Ralph decided not to bid.)

Eastern, meantime, had just four items for sale: two watches, an EWU police patch ($2.99) and a men's basketball guide, first bid: $.01.

We also found on the Internet the words to the Oklahoma State fight song, which sounds like the theme to Rawhide: "Ride, ride, ride, ride. Ride `em cowboys!" (Note how it builds to a perfect cliche.) Here's how the song ends: "Ride 'em Cowboys, EEEE-YAH! EEEE-YAH!" (Who wrote this thing? Howard Dean?)

Eastern has a similar fight song celebrating it as a commuter school: "Drive, drive, drive to EWU and paa-ark your ca-a-a-ar."

EEEE-Yah!

Jess Walter, EWU class of 1987, is a local journalist and author. Ralph Walter, EWU class of 1991, plays guitar in a band called Turd Ferguson.

March 17, 2004: Safe bet EWU alums won’t miss next flight

In case you're wondering, an 80-minute layover in Las Vegas is NOT enough time to sneak off to a casino and bet on your alma mater to win the NCAA basketball tournament.

That explains how - as our jet streaked off to Kansas City without us - Ralph and I found ourselves eating a Fatburger in the Food Court of the Green Valley Ranch Casino in Henderson, Nevada.

"Uh-oh," I said.

"You gonna eat that?" Ralph said.

The day had begun so promisingly, too. Hoping to beat a lingering cold Tuesday night, Ralph pounded Nyquil like it was an Oklahoma State Cowboy and was still sleeping when our dad arrived to take us to the airport.

(One unintended consequence of this column: on Tuesday, we mentioned a certain restaurant where we'd be eating, and on Wednesday the owner graciously bought our breakfast. We're honored, but we really shouldn't be accepting lavish gifts just for mentioning a certain business - say, Midway Chrysler, where quality is always in overdrive.)

At the Spokane airport bar (note: Mr. Pibb makes a lousy mixer) we ran into a flock of EWU fans - Curly, Gombo, Mel, Phil, et al. - still waiting for their 7 a.m. flight to Kansas City by way of Oakland.

After a two-hour flight, Las Vegas appeared like a vision in the desert, which, of course, it is - miles of pink stucco roofs broken up by the occasional golf course.

"Why would anyone want to go to Las Vegas?" asked a Coeur d'Alene grandmother flying through Vegas on her way to San Diego to see her grandkids.

We explained that we were going to Eastern Washington University's first-ever appearance in the tournament. "Through Las Vegas?" she asked. "That's a very strange way to get to Kansas City."

Lady, you've got no idea.

We raced off the plane and found ourselves in a 20-minute line for a cab. Worried that we didn't have time to get to a casino and make our bet, we called our friend Greg - who used to live in Vegas - to ask his opinion (it turns out this is like asking a panhandler for investment advice).

John, our cabbie, had never heard of Eastern Washington University ("It's in Central America," we told him helpfully) but he knew all about our opponent, the Oklahoma State Cowboys. Between menthol cigarettes, he advised us that EWU might not be a smart bet.

Then he drove us out into the middle of the desert and dumped us at the glass doors of a casino ... 22 minutes before our flight was supposed to depart.

A 16-1/2-point underdog when this odyssey began, the Eagles have leaped to a 15-1/2-point underdog (at this rate, they'll be favorites in four months), causing Ralph and I - no dummies - to deduce that people must be betting Eastern Washington heavy.

"People must be betting Eastern Washington heavy," said the guy who took our bet. "So where is Eastern Washington, anyway?"

"Belize."

Before we left, we had convinced our dubious father to bet 40 bucks on EWU. After our Fatburgers, he had $26 left, which we proudly put on the Eagles to win. I put 10 more on them and Ralph put 10 on EWU to win and another five on them to cover the half-time spread - 9 points.

But time was against us. We checked the watch of the guy in line behind us. We had 11 minutes to get back to the airport. Running through the casino, we found a spot at a single-deck blackjack table (note: dealers look at you funny when you stand on 7).

And now we're back at the airport, trying to explain to the patient lady from Southwest Airlines why we're four hours late for our connection.

"I overslept," said Ralph, still nursing a Nyquil hangover.

It's 5 p.m. now. They've got us on a 6:30 p.m. flight to Kansas City, although the gate agent keeps looking over here and talking into the little microphone on her shoulder.

Actually, we probably have time to hit one more casino ...

Jess Walter, EWU class of 1987, is a novelist whose books have been published in nine countries and translated into seven languages. Ralph Walter, class of 1991, once bowled a 12.

March 18, 2004: Eag fans give karaoke bar a real earful

We made it.

But more importantly, Alyssa Chambers and her friends made it, pulling into Kansas City a full day before the first round of the NCAA men's basketball tournament, after a marathon 36-hour road trip across six states that made Ralph and I feel like spoiled old sissy men by comparison.

"Yeah, it was pretty hard," said Alyssa of her trek with fellow Eastern Washington University freshmen Kelsey McFarland, Caitlin Blakeway and the main driver of one overworked Ford Taurus, Randy Peacock. They drove straight through - 1,600 miles - stopping only for a handful of bathroom and burrito breaks, a three-hour nap in Sheridan, Wyo., and a quick sightsee at Mount Rushmore that would have made Clark Griswold proud.

They'd hoped to take shifts driving, but one of the girls forgot her license and, admitted Alyssa, "I can't drive a stick."

It's not like we didn't face our own hardships getting from Spokane to Kansas City in time to chronicle Eastern's first appearance in the tournament today against Oklahoma State University.

After blowing off three straight connecting flights in Las Vegas (total gambling losses: $130), Ralph and I were six hours late getting into K.C. When we finally arrived, at 12:30 a.m. Thursday, our luggage was twirling around an empty carousel while four Southwest Airlines employees made bets on what time the idiots would finally show up to retrieve their duct-taped duffel bags.

The rental car company had given away our economy class car four hours earlier, but was more than happy to upgrade us. Our room at the quaint Hotel Phillips turned out to have only one bed (and one of the Walter brothers apparently has issues sleeping with another man - even his own brother) and, most distressing of all, last call occurs at the uncivilized hour of 1 a.m. Who runs this place, the Taliban?

We were still snoozing peacefully (one of us exiled to the couch) when Alyssa and her crew were pulling into town (it's best not to think about the smell inside that Taurus - or our hotel room, for that matter.)

Kansas City is a swell Midwestern town, nice old buildings and friendly people, (Ralph called it a big Spokane; isn't this like being a tall dwarf?) and an impressive selection of museums and cultural attractions - at least that's what it says in the brochure in our hotel bar.

We'd like to have seen some of this culture, but for us, this trip is about basketball. So we went directly to Kemper Arena, which looks suspiciously like Spokane's waste-to-energy plant from the outside - to watch a rousing Eagles practice. (Side note: we got a request from one Kate Woodson for a few quotes from the players, so we got this one: "I have the ugliest jump shot in Division I basketball." - EWU center Gregg Smith.)

Inspired by what we saw, and in need of some exercise, Ralph and I decided to play some ball ourselves, so we went to Quaffs sports bar, where we played five games of Pop-A-Shot (Ralph 3, Jess 2), three games of foosball (Jess 2, Ralph 1) and one game of Urinal Cake Keepaway (A draw).

In our hotel elevator, we bumped into an Oklahoma State fan who seemed confused by the difference between Gonzaga and Eastern Washington.

"There are two different colleges in Spokane?"

"No, no," we explained patiently. "Gonzaga is a branch campus of EWU."

And now we're off to a bar called Danny's Big Easy to sing karaoke, where, if they don't have the Eastern Fight Song, Ralph has promised to sing Bette Midler's "Wind Beneath My Wings."

Jess Walter, EWU class of 1987, is a local author and journalist. Ralph Walter, EWU class of 1991, can shrink to the size of an ant while retaining his human strength.

March 19, 2004: Trip to K.C. had its ups, downs

Don't feel badly for us. We're not the poor saps who have to go back to Oklahoma.

Sure, our beloved Eastern Washington Eagles lost to the Oklahoma State Cowboys in their first trip to the NCAA men's basketball tournament.

But let's keep this all in perspective: We also can't find our rental car.

The air was thick with anticipation when Friday dawned clear and sunny in Kansas City. When my brother Ralph and I woke up four hours later, the clouds were rolling in. We dressed in our embarrassment-red Eastern shirts. ("Eastern what?" asked the doorman at our hotel. "Eastern religion," we told him.)

At an Oklahoma State rally before the game, Ralph transcended the rivalry between the teams by striking up a conversation with a charming Hooters employee from Oklahoma. But, in general, Cowboy fans seemed to be taking our beloved Eagles rather lightly.

"We're gonna kill you guys," said one beef-fed OSU fan in a six-quart cowboy hat.

"Come on, now," I said. "What's the point of such boorish antagonism? By some accident of geography, you were born in Oklahoma; we were born in Washington. Our school may have a better English program, yours may be better at at ... animal husbandry ... what's the difference? We're all part of the same state school system, a construct of pure class meant to keep the masses down while the children of privilege live off the marrow of our hard work."

He paused for a moment. "We're gonna kill you guys."

Not so fast, Bubba.

Things started off perfectly for Eastern (well, except for the cheerleader who vomited a few minutes into the game). Midway through the first half, when Gregg "Gregg" Smith scored his 135th point, Oklahoma State fans were looking at each other with stunned concern.

EWU actually led (Led!) late in the first half when Ralph and I made the classic mistake of looking ahead to our next opponent, the Memphis Tigers (we were drawing up plays on a cocktail napkin). At halftime, the score was tied at 36, and OSU fans were coming up to ask us where these scrappy little Eastern Eagles had come from.

"Belgium."

But there must have been some fireworks in the Oklahoma State locker room (we theorized that Coach Eddie Sutton threatened to take away his players' free cars) because the Cowboys came out in the second half and outplayed our valiant Eagle regulars.

Final score: Seventy-something to less than that. Outside Kemper Arena after the game, Oklahoma State fans were extremely generous, saying that they had newfound respect for Big Sky basketball.

"Thank you," Ralph said. "Have you seen a red convertible around here?"

Time to tally up the losses:

Well, the game of course. But, hey, we were a 15 seed. (It was sweet watching Oklahoma State fans trying to buy tickets for Sunday's second-round game from the dejected EWU faithful. They really thought we bought tickets to Sunday's game? Come on, we're from a state school; we're not morons.)

The $26 bet we were supposed to make for our Dad during our layover in Las Vegas (due to a reporter's error, it turns out this money was actually lost on a "good feeling on 11" while walking past a roulette table.)

Twenty of the other $25 we bet on EWU in Vegas. We got 15 points at the Green Valley Ranch Casino and EWU lost by a wallet-crushing 19. (EWU covered the first-half spread of 9 points, so we did win that one. Eee-yah!)

About $3,000 in expenses. (The numbers break down like this: airfare: $1,280; rental car: $150; food: $200; "miscellaneous" - however much is left.)

Ralph was shot down by women from at least four states and one Canadian province. This is hard to quantify (would there be a Canadian exchange rate?), but we thought it was worth noting.

Oh, and the rental car, which we left parked next to a suspended statue of a cow, not realizing there are apparently dozens of those in greater Kansas City.

So now we're headed home. We failed to shock the world, but it was a thrilling run by a great team. We have a good feeling that Eastern will be back at the big dance. And just like when we were in school, Ralph and I will be the ones standing against the wall, too nervous to talk to the girls.

As the famous EWU writers Seth Gorvan and Lance Manion once said: "Hey, can we get two more over here."

Ralph Walter, EWU class of 1991, is an award-winning page designer at The Spokesman-Review. Jess Walter, class of 1987, hasn't held down a steady job since 1995.

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