Together In Victory

TigerBlog came away from the Princeton-Cornell men's lacrosse game Saturday night (a 14-9 Tiger win) with two lasting images - and one nagging thought.

Let's start with the first image, the one of the save that Tyler Fiorito made. Actually, he made 11 in the game, though if you were there or saw it on TV, you know that one that TB is talking about.

TB has watched it a bunch of times now, and he continues to be amazed by it.

Princeton already had the game won by the time that Cornell's Matt Donovan had Princeton's Fiorito and Chad Wiedmaier hung up, with the ball in his stick and the two Princeton All-Americas in the goal.

In this situation, the offensive player is hoping to get the defenseman to chase him while the goalie stays put, so that he can go around the goal the other way, much like a round of duck, duck, goose. Defended properly, the goalie will come out on one side while the defenseman goes out on the other when the player dodges and hope to make him take too wide of an angle, giving the other defenders a chance to get into the play.

And that's exactly what Princeton did. And Donovan did exactly what he was supposed to do, which is recognize early and feed, which is what he did, to the cutting Steve Mock. Fiorito went a little too wide and took himself below the goal line extended, though, and left the entire goal open, so all Mock had to do was catch it and throw it into the open net, which is what he thought he had done, only to see Fiorito come flying back into the play and, in a fully extended dive, deflect the shot into the air.

In the interest of full disclosure, Cornell did get the ball back on the deflection and did score on that possession. Still, it takes nothing away from the save Fiorito made.

TB has seen every single one of the 596 saves that Fiorito has made in his career, and he considers that one easily the best. And maybe the single best save he's ever seen.

Speaking of Fiorito's 596 saves, that total ranks him fourth all-time at Princeton and 14 away from tying for second, behind only the 732 that Scott Bacigalupo had in his career. Bacigalupo is a Hall-of-Famer.

Fiorito, who came in as a can't-miss recruit, hasn't missed. He's been as good as advertised from Day 1.

Anyway, that's image No. 1.

And the nagging thought?

It was two years ago that Cornell celebrated on the same field after the final regular-season game, celebrated a 10-9 win that gave the Big Red a share of what was a four-way tie for the Ivy League championship. Eight days later, it was Princeton who celebrated on Cornell's field, by virtue of the Ivy League tournament championship.

This weekend's event brings Cornell and Yale (semifinal No. 1 Friday at 5) and Brown (Princeton's semifinal opponent at 8) to Sherrerd Field at Class of 1952 Stadium. The winners meet Sunday at noon, and the winner gets the league's automatic bid to the NCAA tournament.

In almost any other year, Princeton's slot in the NCAA tournament would be etched in stone by now, with a 10-3 overall record, a 6-0 march through the league and out-of-league wins over Hofstra and Villanova. Those three losses are by a combined four goals, to Hopkins, Syracuse and Carolina.

The only question should be whether or not the Tigers would get a home game.

Except Hofstra has lost about 100 overtime games. And Villanova has stumbled. And Syracuse isn't what it usually is. And even the win over Cornell is no longer a Top 10 win.

And so by the criteria, Princeton is a bubble team. In other words, if Princeton doesn't get the auto bid, it's going to have sweat out the selection show.

And even though Princeton has looked so good of late, anything can happen in a two-games-in-three-days-single-elimination tournament.

All of which brings us to lasting image No. 2.

The Tigers took the Ivy League trophy into the team room at Class of 1952 Stadium after the game and laughed and sang and cheered and did all the things that teams do after they win championships.

Eventually, the players filed out, where they were mobbed by parents, friends, fans and alums.

Ultimately, the team room was basically empty, except for a few newspaper reporters, Princeton head coach Chris Bates and TB.

Then Bates walked outside and was given a huge ovation by everyone who was there, a loud, sustained, loving ovation.

TB watched that and thought about everything Bates had been through in the last 52 weeks.

The last Saturday of 2011 was one of the worst days Bates has ever known, and it had nothing to do with the fact that his team had just finished a 4-8 season with a 9-7 loss to Cornell. No, it was on that day that Bates found out that his wife Ann's cancer had returned, this time unable to be stopped.

As everyone knows, Ann Bates passed away on Nov. 30 of last year. The Princeton players to a man were awed by the strength that their coach showed through the fall, as he worked so hard to rebuild his team and do whatever he could for Ann.

In the aftermath of Ann's death, the Princeton players vowed to make 2012 different. In the words of senior tri-captain John Cunningham before the season started:
"To see your coach go through everything he went through and stay committed to you, how could you not be committed to him. We want to turn it around for Coach Bates. For him. For nobody else."

In TB's opinion, no case can be made for anyone else other than Chris Bates to be the 2012 Division I Coach of the Year, maybe in any sport. The ovation he received was an acknowledgement of the fact that what he had done was noticed, and had touched, every person affiliated with the program.

But the ovation that Bates received isn't the image that TB will remember most.

Instead, this was a few seconds earlier, after the last reporter had left the team room. TB faced the far wall, where he saw Chris Bates as he sat and looked to his left, where next to him was the Ivy League trophy and then next to the trophy his son Nick.

And TB couldn't help but think of the amazing job Chris Bates had done, with his pursuit of the first and his responsibility for the second.

TB was about to turn the corner and head back up the ramp when Bates came outside, and he heard the ovation.

TB can't remember the last time he was as happy for someone as he was for Chris Bates in that moment - and it'll be a long time before he forgets the sight of the coach and his son, alone on the bench, together in victory as they had, sadly, been together in tragedy a few short months ago.