This was a Big East night straight out of the old school, straight out of 1985 or so, straight out of the heart of an old basketball darkness when teams that could barely stand the sight of each other would exchange basketball uppercuts like a couple of proud old prizefighters leaking oil and low on gas.
We have been told battles like these only belong to yesterday now, to the frayed pages of old scrapbooks and grainy video tapes. For a night, at least, that was proven wrong. For a night, all across 40 splendid minutes at Madison Square Garden, St. John’s and Connecticut came after each other time after time, possession after possession, haymaker after haymaker.
For one night, for one game, we were transported to that visceral, ebullient peak that these games always seemed to reach, when the only games in the whole sport worth talking about were played inside the blood-stained, bruise-covered boundaries of the Big East.
St. John’s won the game, 81-72, a signature win of what is slowly becoming a signature season.
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