KANSAS CITY, Mo. Maybe with Jeff Withey, we've got this thing all wrong. Because he doesn't fly through the air like Ben McLemore or beat his chest like Elijah Johnson, we take him for granted. Because he doesn't flex his muscles for the cameras, because he doesn't have a shtick, we see only the flaws, a glass that's agonizingly half-empty.
We miss so much. So dang much.
Withey's game is guilty of one sin, mostly: It's boring. Excellent, but boring. Because it's boring, we don't appreciate the wild dives to the floor, the footwork, the motor that seems to run all night. We don't appreciate the fact that whenever Kansas is in trouble and it happens, even to the best of them coach Bill Self has that 7-foot security blanket within arm's reach.
"(Withey) gets it so deep," Saint Louis coach Jim Crews noted, glumly, after his Billikens dropped a 73-59 decision to the 12th-ranked Jayhawks in the championship of the CBE Hall of Fam...