SEC Basketball Was More Fun When LSU It Had Its Own Ric Flair

Razorbacks face the Tigers with their version of Dwayne Johnson at coach and we're not talking "The Rock" days

Author:
Kent Smith
Updated:
Dec 27, 2022 1:43 PM EST
Original:
Dec 26, 2022

In this story:

FRISCO, Texas – Some new beginnings just aren't the same.

That's the case when it comes to LSU basketball and the entire rest of the Southeastern Conference. While it was the right move, by firing Will Wade, the athletic administration at LSU and the NCAA took all the fun out of seeing the Tigers come across the schedule, whether it be the TV schedule or a fan's favorite team.

While John Calipari feels a little Hunter Hurst Helmsley of wrestling fame, Bruce Pearl's a bit Harley Race, Eric Musselman's got that Ultimate Warrior craziness going on and Tennessee's Rick Barnes gives off pre-Bloodline Roman Reigns vibes, Will Wade was 100 percent Ric Flair.

He was the dirtiest player in the game and didn't care if anyone knew it.

Wade was brash. He was bold. He was as fantastically arrogant as they come.

He was a heel everyone in the SEC could get behind hating in the most enjoyable of ways.

Wade almost relished the hatred.

He openly broke the rules that eventually got him fired with a brashness that made spectators doubt if they ever applied to him at all.

And on the court, Wade pushed the envelope as far as possible.

There were times when he would seem to almost intentionally try to get a technical foul just to get under the skin of opposing fans in a very Ric Flair "ref's not looking so sneak in a forearm to the specials" kind of way.

When the refs refused to give in to his antics, Wade would just kick it up a notch, doing all he could to draw as much heat as possible while his team pounded away at opponents on the floor.

Had Wade arranged it to where Bud Walton or Rupp Arena somehow opened up just for him to have a private helicopter land him on the court, dropping Wade off to coach the game draped a in sequined robe and $2,000 alligator shoes with two women on each arm, it wouldn't have been a shock at all.

If it surfaces that Wade had an LSU booster pay off the guys at the NET rankings to keep the Tigers ranked higher than Arkansas all last season, despite having a better record and beating LSU head-to-head three times just to get under Musselman's skin, no one would be surprised.

He would have just stared into the camera and simply said "To be the man, you've got to beat the man – four times." And then would have proceeded to be his limousine riding, jet flying, son of a gun self.

But now LSU has former Murray State coach Matt McMahon, who has been the plucky Little Engine Who Could by pulling together a team out of thin air after everyone down to guy who washes the underwear and the shot clock lady bolted the Pete Marovich Center like it had asbestos and skunks all at the same time.

If McMahon has a wrestling persona, it's light years away from his last name's namesake.

Instead, he's Dwayne Johnson.

No, we're not talking about the "jabroni-beating, [edited for family purposes], trailblazing, eyebrow raising, step off the break, put your foot on the gas, always ready to whoop some @##, People's Champ, The Rock!"

We're talking about the Rocky Maivia era; the one where he ran around smiling all the time with a full head of curly hair looking like luau worker showed up late to a Trident White commercial shoot.

The cheerful little guy just hoping to overcome the odds while doing his best to make his family proud. A wrestler so babyface only the most cynical could root against him when he first burst onto the scene.

That's where McMahon is with LSU.

Everyone's shocked he has managed to put together an 11-1 record with a duct taped line-up despite a schedule mostly filled with jobbers to build confidence until SEC play starts.

If the Tigers make it to the NCAA tournament, McMahon may win NCAA Coach of the Year and everyone will rightfully cheer to see it happen.

But not everyone can be Andy Kennedy days at Ole Miss level likable, especially at LSU.

The Tigers' program is designed to be disliked by the rest of the league.

They're no Kentucky, let's not get silly. Not even Arkansas or Florida during their national championship and NCAA finals runs were as despised throughout the league as much as Kentucky, although the disdain is fading lately.

But LSU isn't equipped to be a Vanderbilt or South Carolina feel good story. Much like Dwayne Johnson, their best and most natural work is as a heel.

McMahon should enjoy his babyface run while he can.

Even John Cena, Mr. Salute the Troops and the king of Make-A-Wish, found himself drawing the ire of the fans after too many years of being the ultimate good guy.

So LSU, you may have taken the fun out of SEC basketball by wishing the dirtiest player in the game his best in his future endeavors, but one day, no matter how hard you try, the SEC fans will turn against McMahon.

And it will be truly fun again on those cold Saturdays in the South when they do because the SEC's better when LSU's the bad guy.