Almost exactly four years ago, I was on a train headed to Cambridge to watch Columbia reach the halfway mark in a 10-game losing streak. Barely six weeks into my time as a sportswriter here, a few accidents and a little bit of luck had me covering my first men’s basketball game. It wasn’t exactly the ideal time to start watching.
A 3-1 Ivy start had gone to the wrong side quickly, and Joe Jones, only in his second season, was shaking things up and letting his freshmen play.
Brett Loscalzo and Mack Montgomery were already established regulars—Loscalzo a starter from day one and Montgomery occasionally. John Baumann had missed four straight games, playing a grand total of 37 minutes. Facing the league’s only true seven-footer, Ben Nwachukwu was getting real playing time for the first game in months. Kashif Sweet was done for the season, and Justin Armstrong’s freshman year never really happened.
A debate started between a few of us on press row—who out of that class would end up being the best?
I, the most ignorant of the bunch, picked Baumann based off that one game. An argument was made for Montgomery—his athleticism was undeniable, almost too good for the Ivy League—but we disqualified him for that hitch in his shot. My cowriter and a few others chose Nwachukwu—he was the most highly recruited and had the well-proportioned size to be a force in the post.
Each one of us saw potential for Columbia basketball that night, some kind of hope in the middle of that disaster. Baumann scored in double digits for the last six games, Nwachukwu played well in a reserve role—there was clearly talent there. As we sat on the sidelines we wondered what was possible for this team. As the Lions play their last weekend at Levien Gymnasium, it’s impossible for me not to reflect on their ups and downs.
“I think that when we all came here—all of us being Coach Jones’ first recruiting class—we knew what we were getting into,” Baumann said. “In reality we went through some tough times the first couple years.”
Nwachukwu comes to mind first for me, but not for his success. I don’t say that to be disparaging, but he was by most accounts the prize of that recruiting class. A rare steal away from Penn, he turned down Fran Dunphy and three straight championships for Joe Jones’ rebuilding effort.
A promising sophomore campaign faded into a disappointing final seven games, and from then on his numbers declined every year. There was no discernible improvement in his play, which doesn’t mean he hasn’t been valuable. He’s had his share of dominant games. It’s just that with him comes the sense that there could have been more. Jones perhaps said it best.
“Ben’s been,” he said, pausing, “and I’m not making excuses for him, he’s going to med school. Four-year starter and going to med school. That’s the Ivy League for you. When he’s at his best he’s one of the best big men in this league.”
That’s the truth of him as a player, inconsistent, but with a worthy goal that may or may not have held him back.
Armstrong has that same aura of what could have been around him. His buzzer beater against Princeton was one of the defining moments of the past four years. He was the only player aggressive enough to attack the basket on every play, bordering on selfish at times. But you could never question his competitiveness, he played hard both ways, and did it on a pair of bad knees that always limited his true potential and ultimately ended his career.
Armstrong will be the only senior who won’t be on the court this weekend, and it’s a sad way to see him finish in a gym that he made explode with sound.
“Justin had, people talk about how bad his knee was, but he was able to put together two good years for us on the court and really contributed a lot,” Jones said. “He tried to do the best he could. He’s part of the family.”
Loscalzo and Montgomery are perhaps the exact opposite of Nwachukwu and Armstrong. They were regular and consistent contributors, and there’s been almost no change in their numbers year to year. Both players have become much more mature, though, and much smarter. Loscalzo runs a very efficient offense, and always has, but he makes fewer mistakes now. He’s aggressive when he needs to be, and can dictate the tempo of the game. Montgomery’s been a solid role player with the occasional great game, but has improved significantly as a defender. Sweet never really became a regular fixture in the offense, but had his moments as a sub.
Only Baumann made that leap that we wanted to see in all of them that night. He kept improving and evolving, becoming an All-League player and eventually a player of the year candidate. He’s a player that enough can’t be said about. The others formed a solid supporting cast, but not all that much more (though Baumann would never let you know, one of the more genuine cases of humility there is).
All those hopes we had for them that night, and their sophomore year when they swept Penn and Princeton in a pair of spectacular games, they’ve faded a bit. Cornell will eliminate them from contention with a win in either game this night. They’ll almost certainly have Columbia’s first pair of back-to-back winning seasons since 2001. They have an excellent chance at the team’s best record in 15 years.
And if you believe Baumann, they’re hardly thinking about the title that slipped away, a product of the ‘think one game at a time’ mind-set Jones preaches.
“You realize in the back of your mind that Cornell is in the driver’s seat,” Baumann said. “But when you play for a program for so long with this mind-set, when you realize you’re not going to accomplish what you want to do, it doesn’t change our approach at all.”
So what is the contribution of this core of seniors? Some what-could-have-beens, some missed opportunities, some signs of progress?
There have been other Columbia teams that have won big games, had some success, and the program has never really changed. Every great season has reverted back to mediocrity, then to failure.
To understand what’s happened, you have to see the way they interact with one another; it’s this kind of inseparable loyalty you don’t see out of teammates all that often.
“I think we’ve all formed a family, a brother relationship. It’s not just one of these things I’m saying to be cliché, it’s been one of the things about us,” Baumann said. “It’s a bond that I’ll never end up sharing with anyone in my life. I have a genuine love for those guys, and I think they’d say that as well.”
People attend more games now, the attitude towards the team is different, and Baumann has a strong conviction that this time the program will stick, echoing Jones. That’s where they may be different—their legacy. Their success has bred a different perception towards Columbia, and that will no doubt be a powerful recruiting tool. As Baumann said, it does sound cliché, but it’s hard to make the case that the friendship between the six guys didn’t bring more talent to Levien. Watching Asenso Ampim last weekend reminded me of Baumann’s breakout game four years ago, that same weekend. They certainly won’t be as good next year, but the program will be in some capable hands.
We projected far enough that night that they would inevitably fall short of the possibilities we set for them. It’s taken a while, but finally, there have been more ups than downs. The program has a future, and it’s because of the six guys playing in their home uniforms for the last time.
“They deserve so much credit for the success of the program and they really have made their mark,” Jones said. “The program is in much better hands now since they’ve been a part of it.”