SALT LAKE CITY — Face to face, Jim Boeheim and Rick Jackson stared at each other in a familiar portrait. One preaching, the other in disbelief.

Only this wasn’t the court. And this had nothing to do with foul trouble. Nothing to do with basketball, really. Tears pouring out of his eyes, Jackson wept and wheezed inside the locker room. Boeheim consoled him. Talked to him. And the two embraced.

Nobody in this room ever expected the script to take such a dark turn.

‘We wanted to be that team cutting down the net,’ Jackson said. ‘Maybe in the future we can look at this as a successful season, but right now we don’t feel that way.’

So Syracuse’s season ends far too soon. In one of the most bitter upsets in program history, the No. 1 seed Orange was blindsided by No. 5 Butler, 63-59, Thursday night at EnergySolutions Arena in the West Regional semifinals. A suffocating defense and late-game rally extinguished Syracuse’s season before any players expected.

‘We were behind the whole game,’ Boeheim said. ‘We were fighting to get back to even the whole game. We never had any opportunity to blow the game open.’

True, but one five-minute span may forever haunt this team as one of its biggest ‘what ifs’ ever.

Another great escape seemed in order after a Kris Joseph dunk gave Syracuse a 54-50 lead with 5:23 to go. All season, Syracuse found a back door to a win. Grit and resolve always took over.

On Thursday, the opponent punched back. Butler called a timeout, took a deep breath and crushed Syracuse’s dreams.

In front of his own bench, Ronald Nored — an 18 percent 3-point shooter on the season — drained a 3. Syracuse missed on the ensuing possession, throwback forward Matt Howard powered in a shot to give Butler the lead and Andy Rautins turned the ball over.

Then, the basketball gods stepped in. Butler guard Willie Veasley heaved a 3-pointer that pinballed high into the sky and somehow whistled through the nylon. Rautins missed a trey on the other end. And with 59 seconds to go, Veasley tipped in an offensive rebound.

Tack on another free throw and cue the blank dazes. With one 11-0 run, Butler sent Syracuse home prematurely.

‘I mean, we came down and made two turnovers in a three-minute span,’ Rautins said. ‘When it came down to it, they executed.’

A week ago, players pegged this a Final Four-or-bust season. March Madness was a failure, several attested, without a trip to Indianapolis. No wonder the locker room felt like a funeral.

On a chair, with an ice bag on his left knee, Kris Joseph was speechless. Literally. A pack of reporters approached him and departed within seconds. To Joseph’s left was Scoop Jardine. Sitting next to his dad, Jardine was still numb. Still searching for an explanation.

And sandwiched between the two was Arinze Onuaku. The 261-pound frame that nobody in the NCAA Tournament ever had to absorb was slumped inside a locker. With a towel draped down from the upper shelf — blocking his face — Onuaku wiped away tears.

Of course, Onuaku’s presence could have drastically changed the outcome. Butler’s defense chopped SU’s offense to the half court. Syracuse’s guards could never turn the Sweet 16 into a fast-break derby. With disciplined, cautious ball-handlers, the Bulldogs intentionally set the game back by decades.

The 25 points Syracuse scored in the first half was its lowest total of the season. Butler set a Novocain-numbing tempo from start to finish.

‘They’re a team that takes their time and tries to rock you to sleep,’ Jackson said. ‘They move the ball and play great team basketball.’

For the seniors, this was it. The loss carries an extra sting to Onuaku. He never had his say. Sidelined all tournament with a quad injury, Onuaku was relegated to unpaid assistant coach. Most teammates left him alone in the locker room. But at one point, Jardine sauntered over.

Jardine lifted the towel up and grabbed Onuaku around the neck. There was nothing to say. Words will come later.

‘Just held him,’ Jardine said. ‘There’s really nothing you can say to a guy that didn’t even get a chance in his last year. I’ll eventually talk to him later, but I just held him and cried with him because I know how much it hurts him.’

Jardine and other underclassmen tried to stay optimistic, tried to uncover a silver lining. Usually without luck. At heart, they know any talk of the future is forced.

For Butler, this was a program-defining win. When the horn blared, coaches bear-hugged each other and players slapped the hands of fans on their way through the tunnel. For Syracuse, this was a cruel end to a storybook season.

Gripping a towel with both hands, a red-eyed Jackson continued to fight back tears.

This hurts. And he’s not sure for how long.

‘It might be nice for some teams to get here, and they’re happy about it,’ Jackson said, ‘but for us it’s not enough. It’s not enough.’

thdunne@syr.edu

 

Published on March 28, 2010 at 12:00 pm