Please, for the Sake of All Things Good and Holy, Wipe Up Zion's Sweat off the Court
I am telling you nothing new when I say that Duke's Zion Williamson has captured and controlled the headlines more than any other college basketball player in my lifetime. No one in the nation can match his combination of size and explosiveness; and his defensive versatility, his passing ability, and his overall feel for the game transform him from an athletic anomaly to the best player in the country.
Zion creates enough of an advantage for Duke off of his talent alone. But there is one extra dimension to his game that could easily be taken away with a little meticulousness and attention to detail; I'm talking, of course, about the amount of perspiration he leaves in his wake.
Three times this year, I have witnessed an opposing team slip on what I'm assuming to be a mini-pond of Zion sweat. The man is a mammoth. At 285 pounds (let's be real...Duke 100% exaggerates his weight to give him that extra mystique. He's probably closer to 260), we can reasonably estimate that he sweats way more than the average man. Thus, when he plays basketball, and most notably when he dives or falls on to floor, he marks his territory with his natural condensation. If Zion was a national park, his slogan would be "Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but an ungodly amount of sweat."
Let's examine where this asset has dealt a fatal blow to Duke's opponents.
Example 1: Duke at Louisville, February 12
One of the defining moments of Duke's season was whenLouisville, while up 23, literally gave the ball away to Duke on like seven straight possessions down the stretch the Blue Devils rallied from a 23-point deficit in the KFC Yum! Center against the Louisville Cardinals. Through a potent 2-2-1 full-court defense and through Williamson getting to the rim at will, Duke pulled off the near-impossible comeback.
But late in the game, while Louisville still had the lead, this happened.
Cam Reddish bricks a three, Williamson goes up for the board, but Louisville guard Christen Cunningham ultimately snags it, and Zion falls to the ground. However, right after securing the rebound, a panic-stricken Cunningham slips RIGHT WHERE ZION LANDED. The result? A Tre Jones steal and layup. Two points. If you remember, Duke won this game by...two points.
Example 2: UNC vs. Duke, ACC Tournament Semifinal, March 15
An instant classic unfolded in Charlotte last weekend, as the Tar Heels and the Blue Devils battled in their third meeting this season. For the first time since 2016, the game was decided by one possession.
And what a critical possession it was.
After Duke's RJ Barrett missed two crunch time free throws, UNC's Nassir Little grabbed the rebound to give Carolina a chance to win it. As he passed the ball off to point guard Coby White, I thought we might witness a little bit of March magic.
But the final shot proved to be yet another instance of a team derailed by diaphoresis.
White dribbled the ball, called a play (a pick and pop to stretch-big Luke Make...this is really aimed at my friends who criticize Roy for not calling a timeout; he and the team knew what they were doing), Duke snuffed it out, so Coby tried to create something on his own...but he slipped. Hmmmm...what could he possibly have slipped on? Like a Mario Kart banana peel, Zion's sweat sent White into a whirl of chaos, as he had to hoist up a contested three. And Duke emerged victorious.
Example 3: Florida State vs. Duke, ACC Tournament Final, March 16
Objectively, Duke pulled away from the 'Noles in the second half of this game, and probably would've won regardless of this possession I'm going to detail. But hear me out: while down twelve, Florida State still had a small chance of entering back into this game with over ten minutes to go.
Seminoles guard Terrance Mann brought the ball up the court, looking to initiate the offense. He crosses right, hoping to shed Barrett; but clearly, the puddle on the court catches him off guard. Before he even realizes that he has made a terrible mistake, he's stuck looking like Will Ferrell in the mailroom scene in Elf.
The refs (of course) don't call a reach-in on Zion (sorry gotta strike that one out, too) (trying to be unbiased) Mann turns it over, which leads to Jones to Barrett alley-oop. And all signs of life from FSU evaporated like a mist.
So...what's the solution here? I speak for America when I say MANAGERS, WE ARE COUNTING ON YOU. We know you get no love. You have to wear a suit as you do grunt work and get yelled at by coaches. But if you want to be the true hero of March, I'm imploring you to take a king-sized Sham-Wow to the game and mop up the court relentlessly every time Duke is at their basket.
Zion creates enough of an advantage for Duke off of his talent alone. But there is one extra dimension to his game that could easily be taken away with a little meticulousness and attention to detail; I'm talking, of course, about the amount of perspiration he leaves in his wake.
Three times this year, I have witnessed an opposing team slip on what I'm assuming to be a mini-pond of Zion sweat. The man is a mammoth. At 285 pounds (let's be real...Duke 100% exaggerates his weight to give him that extra mystique. He's probably closer to 260), we can reasonably estimate that he sweats way more than the average man. Thus, when he plays basketball, and most notably when he dives or falls on to floor, he marks his territory with his natural condensation. If Zion was a national park, his slogan would be "Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but an ungodly amount of sweat."
Example 1: Duke at Louisville, February 12
One of the defining moments of Duke's season was when
But late in the game, while Louisville still had the lead, this happened.
Cam Reddish bricks a three, Williamson goes up for the board, but Louisville guard Christen Cunningham ultimately snags it, and Zion falls to the ground. However, right after securing the rebound, a panic-stricken Cunningham slips RIGHT WHERE ZION LANDED. The result? A Tre Jones steal and layup. Two points. If you remember, Duke won this game by...two points.
Example 2: UNC vs. Duke, ACC Tournament Semifinal, March 15
An instant classic unfolded in Charlotte last weekend, as the Tar Heels and the Blue Devils battled in their third meeting this season. For the first time since 2016, the game was decided by one possession.
And what a critical possession it was.
But the final shot proved to be yet another instance of a team derailed by diaphoresis.
White dribbled the ball, called a play (a pick and pop to stretch-big Luke Make...this is really aimed at my friends who criticize Roy for not calling a timeout; he and the team knew what they were doing), Duke snuffed it out, so Coby tried to create something on his own...but he slipped. Hmmmm...what could he possibly have slipped on? Like a Mario Kart banana peel, Zion's sweat sent White into a whirl of chaos, as he had to hoist up a contested three. And Duke emerged victorious.
Example 3: Florida State vs. Duke, ACC Tournament Final, March 16
Objectively, Duke pulled away from the 'Noles in the second half of this game, and probably would've won regardless of this possession I'm going to detail. But hear me out: while down twelve, Florida State still had a small chance of entering back into this game with over ten minutes to go.
Seminoles guard Terrance Mann brought the ball up the court, looking to initiate the offense. He crosses right, hoping to shed Barrett; but clearly, the puddle on the court catches him off guard. Before he even realizes that he has made a terrible mistake, he's stuck looking like Will Ferrell in the mailroom scene in Elf.
So...what's the solution here? I speak for America when I say MANAGERS, WE ARE COUNTING ON YOU. We know you get no love. You have to wear a suit as you do grunt work and get yelled at by coaches. But if you want to be the true hero of March, I'm imploring you to take a king-sized Sham-Wow to the game and mop up the court relentlessly every time Duke is at their basket.
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