Revisiting History: The Demise of the Old Big East Conference
By Joe Nardone
Sep 7, 2013; Philadelphia, PA, USA; American Athletic Conference Commissioner Mike Aresco flips a coin prior to the start of the game between the Temple Owls and the Houston Cougars at Lincoln Financial Field. Houston defeated temple 22-13. Mandatory Credit: Howard Smith-USA TODAY Sports
With the start of college basketball games just a few days away, I can’t help but think about the Big East Conference. No, not even the new Big East that has 10 basketball only schools, but the old Big East. The one that was more than knee-deep in tradition, had epic conference tournament battles in Madison Square Garden and is pretty much the reason I love myself some college hoops.
Still, that version of the Big East has gone the way of the dinosaurs. Fair or not (it’s not), I blame old Big East commish — and new AAC main-man-in-charge — Mike Aresco for all the wrongdoings that brought the league to its death.
I have written about him in the past. How it wasn’t really just his fault, but he did little in the way to help stop the Catholic Seven from getting out of dodge. That, by bringing in something called the Tulane Green Wave, the real members of the Big East would not stand for such a thing — especially not for the sake of football money.
Aresco took what was great about the Big East (basketball) and tried to make the league more than that. Honestly, though, attempting to bring in more football programs to bring in more money wasn’t a horrible idea, but the execution of it was a joke. How he didn’t see some of the basketball only schools feeling jilted that he was recruiting less than historical programs is something I’ll never understand.
Enough of me rambling. You all know the story about the Big East Conference. I mean, we all have different accounts of what transpired, but it is worth revisiting.
Now, if you will allow me to do so. Below is what happened leading up to and after the demise of the old Big East. Also, I called upon a physic to tell me the future.
(H/T to my five-year-old daughter. Who did all of these pictures as I asked. Well, except the last one — too gloomy for her)