An ode to Bud Eley

When I was a child I had a sports-themed bedroom that would make any ESPN-loving youngster jealous. (Or so I thought at the time.)

I had a bedspread with the helmet of every NFL team on it, a wallpaper border with nearly every mainstream sport depicted on it, curtain rods with basketballs on the ends and even curtains made out of fabric with sports of all types on it.

Plus there were the more personal touches. Multiple Michael Jordan posters hung on the wall, a poster of Tiger Woods covered my door and several St. Louis Cardinals photo spreads I saved from the Post-Dispatch were hung up as well. I even used a huge wad of yellow Sticky Tack to display dozens of baseball cards in a neat little row around my room. (There was also a poster of *N Sync prominently displayed, but that hardly matters here.)

Then, on the inside of my closet door, which was open 98 percent of the time because it wasn't physically possible to close it, was somewhere between five and 10 small signs that read "This BUD's for you." (Weird capitalization and all.)

Apparently, the folks in the SEMO marketing department had no problem ripping off the beer slogan to support the star of the men's basketball team, Bud Eley. I attended a game where the posters were passed out and went around collecting as many unscathed and unbent copies as I could after the final buzzer. I came out with quite a few and they were prized possessions.

At the time, I would have been glad to remove posters of Jordan, Woods and anyone else if only I could have gotten my hands on a Bud Eley poster. He was the Jordan of the OVC in the late 90's and I was amazed by him. I remember walking to floor level and being absolutely astonished by his size.

I've never met former Southeast radio announcer Mike Legg, but back in those days I felt like he was a friend. I attended a few games a year, but I listened to each and every game on the radio and could recite league standings and individual statistics by heart. Even when the team played in the OVC championship game on ESPN, I listened to Legg on the radio with the television muted. (As a result, I got to hear about Aubrey Reese's miracle shot a few seconds before I saw it go in on TV. And I still couldn't believe it. Tears ensued. Lots and lots of tears.)

Tuesday I was sitting at my desk in the Missourian's newsroom when an email announcing SEMO's new Hall of Fame class showed up in my inbox. I read Bud Eley's name in the release and was shoved into the way-back machine, way back to better days in the Southeast Missouri men's basketball program.

I remember watching games with my dad. (He always snuck in a tin full of fruit runts to every game.) I remembered listening to Legg's play-by-play. I remember caring enough to hate Murray State and Aubrey Reese and eventually Austin Peay.

I remember the excitement of hearing Eley's triple-double, which included a 10-block performance, reported on ESPNews (or was it ESPN?) and seeing it on ESPN.com. I remember leaving the Show-Me Center crushed after Murray State blew SEMO out on ESPN in front of a sold-out crowd. I remember Mike Branson and Michael Stokes and Cory Johnson and Roderick Johnson and Kahn Cotton and Tim Scheer.

And I can't name two players from two years ago.

True I was lost in college life at Mizzou, but I never dreamed way-back when that I would ever lose track of the Indians, err, Redhawks.

I have no desire to bash the SEMO athletic department or Scott Edgar or anyone else for the current state of the men's basketball team. Their work speaks for itself.

What I didn't realize until I saw the name Bud Eley in my inbox was just how much I want SEMO basketball back. I want to go to the Show-Me Center and sit in section 101 (as I did in high school with my friends) and sing "Go Southeast" with the band and give the opposing team an earful as they walk out onto the floor below me. (Respectfully, of course.)

Bud Eley never even played in the NCAA Tournament. The funny thing is I didn't remember that. I had to look it up to be sure.

The wins and losses were always important to me, naturally, but they weren't as important as having a team to be proud of and to cheer for and players to love.

I know there are plenty of kids in Southeast Missouri with Lebron James posters and curtain rods with basketballs on the ends decorating their rooms. I guess I'm just sad that they don't have any "This BUD's for you" signs.