Have Zags gone from overachievers to underachievers?

PORTLAND — Not so long ago, this was the last image of each Gonzaga basketball season: Players gathering at midcourt, finished but fulfilled, applauding their fans for the boost they provided.

Lately, this is what you remember: Ronny Turiaf, slumped on his rump in Tucson, Ariz., in 2005, trying to come to grips with his 3-for-9 foul shooting and the end of his college career against Texas Tech; Adam Morrison, weepy and disbelieving in Oakland, Calif., in 2006 against UCLA.

Early in a decade of NCAA appearances, the Zags maxed out, simply got as far in this thing as anybody could expect. What's the description lately? Is it ...

Underachieving?

Such a nasty word, and a cold reminder that these three weeks are not only exhilarating but capable of rendering awful epitaphs.

"I totally cringe," Zags coach Mark Few said in a hallway here at the Rose Garden on Wednesday, in response to a question about the emphasis on March.

"It's a one-game shot; it's not three or seven. We've lived through the highs of that, and also been hurt by it."

Years ago, I covered Oregon State in the heyday of Ralph Miller, whose teams were often dreadnoughts in January and disappointing in March. He's a Hall of Fame coach, and he was 3-9 in the NCAA tournament at OSU. For the life of me, I don't know why.

I do know that the NCAA tournament is more judgmental that way than perhaps any other sport. Golf has its best-player-never-to-win-a-major. Baseball had Mr. May — Dave Winfield sardonically named by George Steinbrenner — and now it has its A-Rod.

But college hoops turns on its people like no other. Way back when, Dean Smith was the coach who couldn't win the big one, before he did, in 1982. That was a mantle that got passed to Lute Olson to Jim Calhoun to Jim Boeheim to Roy Williams to Bill Self.

Anyway, the Zags, history-makers that they are, enter this thing against Akron shrouded by a distinction unprecedented in the program: They've been ousted in the first round two straight years.

But like the tournament itself, that distorts reality. Two seasons ago, they were ripped by the February suspension of Josh Heytvelt. They staggered with a thin lineup to the finish, might not have made the NCAA field if they hadn't won their league tournament, and fell, properly, to Indiana.

Last year, they were victimized by the NCAA's sometimes-quirky seeding and siting decisions, sent three time zones to North Carolina while Davidson, a poorer seed, bused to the arena. And oh yes, it was about to unleash Stephen Curry.

I'd contend that if there's been a shortfall in Zags performances, it came earlier — and maybe not even in 2004 at KeyArena against Nevada, which had a mid-first-round NBA pick in Kirk Snyder and a quick, capable cast around him.

But in 2005, Gonzaga was better than Texas Tech and didn't prove it. In 2006, Gonzaga had UCLA beat for 38 minutes, and was a mess for the final two. The two were all that mattered.

Those are the two teams Few believes could have made a deep run.

Few will tell you how lucky that '99 team was, drawing suspension-plagued Minnesota, getting Stanford in Seattle. Wednesday, he remembered how the coaches told Quentin Hall to foul at the end of that Sweet 16 game against Florida in '99, but before Hall could do it, a Gator traveled, setting up the Zags' winning basket.

On the flip side, he'll insist his team did things mostly right down the stretch against UCLA — save for the fatal steal from J.P. Batista's strong hands in backcourt that led to the winning basket.

Batista was staring straight at Derek Raivio, 15 feet away, and all Raivio was, was the best free-throw shooter in college-basketball history. If he gets fouled and hits two, UCLA needs a three just to get it to overtime. Batista wouldn't give up the ball until UCLA took it.

Some you win, some you lose. It's not so much a character flaw as it is a comet in the sky, despite what people might scrawl anonymously on a message board.

"That's their problem," Few said.

Thursday, the Zags have to make sure it's not their problem, too.

Bud Withers: 206-464-8281 or bwithers@seattletimes.com