The following story appeared in the Annapolis Capital and the Sunbury (Pa.) Daily Item on March 11, 1997.

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I’ve got a message for all the basketball fans out there who have been seduced by the NBA, with its bright lights, acrobatic dunks and glitzy marketing: You can have it.

I’ll take March Madness.

You can have the NBA, with its petulant whiners who treat their enormous wealth as a birthright and who are quick to jump ship if the next port has more money.

You can have the spoiled superstars who have forgoitten how to play defense, and who seem offended when they are penalized for missing practice.

You can have the millionaire egos, the larger-than-life icons who expect to be catered to, and who call for the coach’s neck if every whim is not met.

I’ll take the college game, especially come tournament time each March.

I’ll take rollicking pep bands, swaying back-and-forth in right-left-right unison. I’ll take fuzzy-cheeked bench-wamers, holding hands or kneeing together on the sideline during the final seconds of a nailbiter.

I’ll take the noon-to-night drama of a conference tournament, a wonderful festival of talent and a harsh survival of the fittest.

I’ll take players who play defense with intensity, who listen to coaches and respond, who set textbook screens on offense and who fight through them on defense.

I’ll take players who know they will never be pros, but who are driven by a more simple passion: a love of the game born on some urban playground or rural driveway and nurtured through years of hot summer games, high school gyms and long bus rides.

I’ll take the Patriot League championship game, played between Navy and Bucknell on Wednesday night in Alumni Hall and won by Navy, 76-75, after 40 minutes of heart-stopping excitement.

I’ll take Navy’s Michael Heary and Bucknell’s J.R. Holden, trading acrobatic shot for acrobatic shot during furious, fantastic three-minute stretch late in the game that left fans for both teams dizzy.

I’ll take Navy’s Brian Walker and Bucknell’s Gordon Mboya, two seniors playing with a sense of urgency, driven by the realization that their next loss is their last game. Ever.

I’ll take players like Bucknell’s Tom Welch, who are like their students, not above them.

I’ll take players like Navy’s Hassan Booker, who not long after the championship game ended, went to the Bucknell locker room to seek out Holden, the magnificent Bucknell point guard who took Bucknell’s bitter one-point loss as his own responsibility.

Booker wasn’t looking to talk trash or wave the freshly-cut-down net in Holden’s face. He was there to pat Holden’s back, to hug him, to wish him the best. He was there out of respect for a talent, a grace, a passion that he can appreciate.

And I’ll take coaches like Navy’s Don Devoe and Bucknell’s Pat Flannery, who were themselves players once and who now help craft these young men into officers and gentlemen.

And I’ll take the fans, the college kids with exams looming, who paint their faces and drive all night to be there when the national spotlight shines on their school. I’ll take the sea of orange, blue, gold, or whatever other color rabid fans wear to pledge their allegiance and their pride.

Some people are worried that college basketball is losing its luster as more and more players leave college early for the NBA.

Wednesday night, though, Bucknell and Navy proved emphatically that the college game is alive and well. It is healthy because of players like Heary and Holden, who leave every ounce of energy on the court.

Yes, there are spectacular players who will flee college basketball for the big dollars of the NBA.

Yes, the NBA has arguably the greatest athletes in the world.

Yet as long as there are college students who play for the love of the game, who are motivated by winning and not greed, who take tremendous pride in representing their university on the basketball court, the college game will thrive, especially come tournament time in March.

I’ll take them. You can have the NBA.