The artsy, older girlfriend of the emo guitarist I had a crush on who lived on the second floor of my residence hall and I got into an argument one day back my senior year of college at Binghamton University.  We were in a friend’s car, and we were all about to go our separate ways after a Sunday afternoon brunch; I, to a Bearcats men’s basketball game, artsy girlfriend to a poetry reading, and the rest of the group to study – which meant watch cable TV with books open on their laps, the number one symptom of senioritis.

As the car prepared to turn into the gym parking lot, artsy girlfriend said to us all, filled with self-importance, “I wish people wouldn’t go to the basketball games. Binghamton doesn’t need sports.”

I took the bait. “Oh, of course we do. It puts the university on the map to the general public.”

“I didn’t hear of Binghamton through sports, ” huffed artsy girlfriend.

“Well, neither did I, but we also live in New York State. What about those in other parts of the country? They don’t know Bingo from Adam.”

“Well,” she pointed to me. “I don’t want those people, people that only find out about colleges because of their basketball teams, to come to my university. They don’t contribute anything.”

Not about to tackle how, how…just plain weird that statement was, I decided to tackle the argument from another point of view. “Think about the students that get to attend Binghamton that wouldn’t be able to otherwise due to athletic scholarships. Just like we give out merit scholarships and scholarships for the arts, here’s a chance for even more students to attend school who might not have the money to.”

“Well, they shouldn’t get money for playing sports. Arts are fine, but sports just aren’t.”

Luckily for me, we had just pulled up to the gym. “Look, it’s my stop!” I thankfully announced. “See you all back in the room.”

The sports versus arts versus intellectual pursuit debate has dogged me my entire life. When you grow up the daughter of a part-time musician and science fiction writer and attend a performing and creative arts high school, but have a lifelong dream to be a sportswriter, your stances on that debate become mighty convoluted. Sure, I think the arts are undervalued in our current American society. Sure, I have studied the horror stories at big Division I football programs with students having bogus SAT scores and taking classes that don’t amount to any degree at all. Sure, I understand professors who are angry when a hockey or basketball team receives more media excitement than their important research.

But I always look at it the way my father always explained things to my sister and I. My sister was a gifted athlete and a gifted artist, but not necessarily a gifted intellectual. Academics bored her, not because she was bad at them, but because creating and moving and kicking and acting inspired her more than math and reading and the periodic table did. And, according to my father, that was okay. “There are some of us in this world who will be blessed with athletic talent,” he would nod towards Megan, then put his hand to his chest. “Just like those of us blessed with artistic talent.  And there are those of us blessed with smarts,” he would nod towards me. “And the world needs a little bit of everyone, and everyone needs exposure to people with all of these traits. So to say that our schools shouldn’t have opportunities for all of these pursuits would be wrong.”

And with that explanation always echoing in my head, I chose to attend a university fighting with its identity. What was Binghamton going to be? When I transferred there in 2002, it has just gone Division I, it had just started to build a new arena for basketball and new technology and engineering buildings, and it was starting to get the credit it was due for being an amazing research university in the social sciences. The school was so young compared to other institutions – it was founded in 1946 – and lacked distinctive spirit and points of pride.

Because of this, you had students on campus who were gung ho about the school spirit sports would bring, and those who saw the sports as ruining the good thing that had been going – this high caliber incubator of creation and research – albeit under-the-radar to most of the East Coast, let alone the country. Debates such as the one between me and artsy girlfriend happened all over campus, and eventually manifested itself into a New York Times “expose” last weekend on Binghamton.

Titled “At Binghamton, Division I Move Brings Recognition and Regret,” the Times interviewed professors angry with student-athletes missing classes for competition, and zeroed in on the criminal digressions of two members of the basketball team this season. What the article lacked to mention was that unlike some other institutions, the school quickly and swiftly continues to take action against student-athletes who miss class, miss assignments or act out of line.  But the damage was done – there were some truths to the article, and the article did concrete damage to a university who has received very little bad press over its 63 years of existence.

Finally, the intellectual argument had its ammunition to win the never-ending debate. The New York Times, the newspaper for true intellectuals, had given that side its giant rocket to finally muffle those who saw the need for athletics on the campus. Athletics was ruining the university, not giving it an identity or spirit.

And then, mere days later, a standing-room only Events Center witnessed the troubled and emotional-roller-coaster riding men’s basketball team win their first America East regular season championship in their six year history in the conference. (They share the regular season title with the University of Vermont Catamounts.) This secured the school its first men’s basketball NIT bid ever.
(Binghamton fans storm the court Thursday evening to celebrate a Bearcat regular season championship.)

Those 5,500 or so members of the University community jumping onto the court after the final buzzer had their say, just days after the Times decided to blast the school and it’s decision to go Division I. These attendees see the need for athletics at the institution.  – to unite.  On Thursday night, for one of the first times ever, Binghamton University was united. After years of searching for its idenity and spirit, over 5,000 students found it – at a basketball game. The debate will continue,  in the halls, in classrooms, in offices and in cars coming back from a Denny’s brunch on the Parkway, but for one night, sports showed that they had a place on the campus.