Self prepares for life without Preston, same as he did with the Big Red Dog aka Clifford "Mom Reputedly Got Some Hep" Alexander. This amounts to deep frying a donut in the big fryer with the donut hole in the backup fryer. You would like them both to be ready to eat about the same time, but they don't have to finish at exactly the same time, and the donut can be tasty without the donut hole, or just that much better with it.
But life is theme with variations.
The variations here seems to be that Preston will actually sit from the start instead of playing limited minutes a la the Big Bowser. As the late Tom Petty sang, "The waiting is [and will be] the hardest part." Bang the box in heaven, Tom.
The commitment to sitting Preston makes one thing unmistakable. Whatever the issue is that looms with him and his Mattel Mobile, it appears much more cut and dried than it appeared with Alexander. With Alexander, Self and KU were apparently dealing with something involving mom, and that made the infraction involve "awareness" on the part of KU and Self and arguably even Alexander himself. Playing Alexander without "awareness" was NOT an infraction, at least if plausible deniability could be maintained. But the inference with Preston appears to be that what ever the potential transgression, it was apparently something flat inadmissible going in, and something Preston apparently would have had personal awareness of, and likely certain key officials in KU basketball would have had personal awareness of, or should have had. Plausible deniability can be a female canis familiaris.
Preston apparently isn't playing, because playing with knowledge of the transgression would lead straight to Forfeit City. I'm not breaking ground here. Others have made similar inferences recently. I'm just clarifying for prologue. To wit, that he sits, instead of plays, appears to suggest KU basketball officials see enough of a black box that fecal matter could have happened inside that they are not going to the mat for the young man and playing him anyway. At the very least, it appears NOT a vote of confidence.
There endeth the prologue.
This post is really a rumination about who we are.
We knew who we were with Preston. We were a go-deep, match-up-any-way-they-want, flex 3-2/4-1 kind of a team with April expectations. We thought we had near Dump Truck-grade depth in perimeter athleticism and shooting. Plus inside, we thought we had Mr. Relaxed Fit in XXXL (Azuibuke) and Mr. Slim Fit in XXL (Billy Preston) both backed up with youth tall (Lightfoot) and Archteryx small (Svi and Garrett) pack-lite back ups. The suit case seemed all Briggs and Riley durable for a long adventure travel trip to the Final Four, especially, when Cunliffe and De Souza came Amazon-enabled at mid season to fill the remaining empty spaces in the Eagle Creek packing cubes. (Note: I'm practicing here for a future when each of us gets fees for product placement references in posts. If KU and Self can sell themselves, why shouldn't we? Are you listening, @approxinfinity. Contracting with advertisers to receive a few cents or dollars every time a board rat mentions a product brand in a positive way is the zeitgeist way to get compensated for all your hard work here.).
But fecal matter has already happened.
Champagne wishes and caviar dreams were then.
So: who are we now, if Preston proves an Anti-MacArthur and fails to return?
We are improvised wishes and survival schemes.
We are 4-1.
Even with DeSouza.
At most, IF DeSouza shows, he will buy us two, five-minute stretches for Azuibuke to take on oxygen. No non OAD guy is coming into the asymmetric whistle ritual that is the March Carney and turning into an impact player for six NCAA games as a starting 4 to enable Self to wear his Iba mask and win one for Hank in the 3-2. Not. Going. To. Hap.
But, 'bate, that's who we aren't. We want to know who we are. We have to know. We gots to know. If we've learned nothing else from the Earl of Edmond, all these fabulous years, its a team's got to know who they are.
Read my key strokes:
We are 4-1.
Let me distill it to Dr. Zeuss.
We are 4-1 if they are tall.
We are 4-1 if they are small.
We are 4-1 in a house.
We are 4-1 with a mouse.
We are 4-1 with a spoon.
We are 4-1 on the moon.
We are 4-1 in a caboose.
We are 4-1 with Calipari's Mousse.
We are 4-1 with a hat.
We are 4-1 with Coach K the rat.
We are 4-1 against a schizo.
We are 4-1 against Ratso Izzo.
We are 4-1 against Jews and Goys.
We are 4-1 against Roy Williams' boys.
We like crimson eggs and ham.
We like 4-1, Phog I am.
Ahem.
This 4-1 dog can hunt once it gets Cunliffe. Cunliffe gives Self a deep rotation of runts at the 4. He will be able to rotate Svi, Garrett and Cunliffe; that's enough fouls to give that runts can keep coming and we can keep playing small at the 4, even when the opponents go big. It will mean switching in and out of man and junk zone to keep the Blue Meanies from knowing exactly what spots to stand on on offense, and who to screen, and back down, but Self has become Mr. Flexible the last few seasons. This is a defensive challenge and he likes those.
At the 5, it gets sticky being who we are, even if Azuibuke were miraculously to stay healthy and play 30mpg every time he laced'em up. Yes, Lightfoot can spell him for breathers. Yes, Lightfoot will get better when Self gives him the Marine Corp Captain to the Marine Corp Lieutentant line: "Son, I am counting on you. I'm not going to bullshit you, Lieutenant. We are counting on you to take that pocket no matter how you have to do it, and we know its going to be tough. This entire operation is depending on you doing your job. You don't have to be a hero, Lightfoot, but you do have to have to sneeze lightening and shit thunder. We are not sure at present if there will be any replacements. You may have to do this with your bare hands and your KaBar but it has to be done. Failure is not an option. I don't care what size they are. You kill and clean me some Dukies, or don't come back alive."
These are the kinds of things that will have to be said (and done) in some D1 translation suitable for politically correct standards of today. If you people think Grayson Allen is bad guy, you're going to have to get a grip, when Self has to resort to Mitch Lightfoot to close an NCAA game out. But it can be done.
But here is where DeSouza comes in (as everyone has long since gathered, right?). Lightfoot is only enough to survive and advance with a right tail probability. Ten fouls just aren't enough for Self to retain the flexibility of attacking, or shortening games, as the moment dictates. Add DeSouza, with pretty much the same exhortations given Lightfoot, and Self is in the magic 15 fouls-to-give territory at the 5 that can let Self do either. And De Souza at least would allow short stretches of faking a 3-2, when the other team plays two bigs, while Self and staff hatch yet another tactical scheme with the 4-1 to outflank opponent with size.
The above has been the long of it.
The short of it?
Self, the Basketball Gandalf, can with a bit of misdirection, a pinch of magic dust, and an occasional charge on his own Shadowfax of Devonte Graham, conjure the pieces of his Basketball Middle Earth into a winning conquest of Sauron, but he needs to add Cunliffe and DeSouza bad to pull it off.
Rock Chalk!