“Basketball doesn’t build character. It reveals it.”

I’m not sure who said this, but it’s been uttered by every basketball coach from the YMCA elementary leagues to the NBA. Perhaps never was there a more perfect example of this than last night when Memphis found a way to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. After hiding their true colors for five games, the final moments of regulation and overtime revealed Memphis to be the immature, unintelligent Calipari team we come to expect every year.

It all started when Joey Dorsey fouled out. The 1st team All-Mental Midget collected 5 cheap fouls, with the last being the cheapest. Dorsey had a great tournament on the defensive end of the floor and controlled the glass for the Tigers in every game but, as even John Calipari was probably expecting, the dumb overcame him in the biggest game of the year. A guy who had developed into one of the best rebounders in college basketball, collected two. For the entire game. And after his dumb foul, it was if a revolving door opened up in the lane and Kansas got bucket after bucket.

Then, it was the free throws. All season long we were told that Memphis’ achilles heel was their inability to be consistent at the free throw line. But, again, for five games, this was hidden from the rest of college basketball. It looked as if Memphis had found their way at the stripe and rendered themselves unstoppable. Then, the pressure cranked up and they missed four in a row, allowing Kansas to not only push the game to overtime, but to snatch the momentum and the 2008 National Championship.

Then, it was the guy on the sideline, never a very good X’s and O’s guy, deciding not to foul at the end of regulation.  Instead, the Tigers allow Kansas to come down and nail the game-tying three.  A foul would have likely ended the Kansas run and brought the trophy to the Volunteer State.  But, instead, Mario Chalmers cemented himself into NCAA history with an off-balance, clutch three.  When the shot went through, the faces on the Memphis bench were not those of surprise, but rather looks of acceptance. They knew this was their fate. Everyone did.

This was Memphis, after all. It was the squad from the Island of Misfit Teams. The one that jersey pops, trash talks, fights with fans and, contrary to what Billy Packer kept telling you, is coached by a guy who was in his first Final Four. At least according to the record books, that is.

So, you might be heartbroken and surprised, Tiger fans. But the rest of us intelligent basketball fans expected it. We could see your true character all along.