Nobody's Ending Butler's Fairy Tale

INDIANAPOLIS -- So this is what destiny looks like.

Take it from Gordon Hayward, among the primary faces of destiny, who studied the scene on Saturday night inside Lucas Oil Stadium before Butler did the inevitable during a semifinal game of the Final Four. That is, Butler made Michigan State vanish in bizarre fashion along the Bulldogs' way to a national championship.

So Hayward glanced this way, and then that way. "I mean, I was just looking around, and with these guys, this is it," he said, recalling the moment. "This is what we've all played for. This is where we should be. This is where we want to be. Just ready to go. Excited to get out there after this whole week of all this craziness. Just ready to play."

And they played, and they won.

Somehow, they won.

Then again, they had everything they needed to continue their impossible dream. They had the momentum after winning 24 consecutive games. They had the majority of the energy from the stuffed and frenzied house of 71,298 since their campus is barely seven miles away. They even had their live bulldog mascot called Blue II barking before the game at anything not wearing Butler blue.

Forty minutes of Final Four basketball later, they had the slaying of their latest basketball giant (after taking down Syracuse and Kansas State earlier in the tournament) when Michigan State couldn't slam-dunk destiny. Nobody can. That's why destiny is Blue II preparing to spend another game this season barking for these other Bulldogs, the ones from Butler, the ones who will complete their dream on Monday night with that improbable national championship.

The ones who -- courtesy of so many factors -- really have no business advancing to the Final Two, but who just did.

If not from Hayward, take it from Brad Stevens, their 33-year-old coach who looks maybe a decade or two younger than that. After Butler conquered Michigan State in the final seconds for a 52-50 victory, he almost giggled with a memory. At the start of the season, he told his gritty but frequently undersized players from something called the Horizon League that their goal was to win it all.

"One of our managers was filming the practice that day, and he actually said over the intercom, 'Hey, somebody picked us to go to the Final Four. We're good, but we're not that good,' " said Stevens, smiling, adding that the manager was unaware that his words were being recorded. So the manager didn't believe, and neither did anybody else with much sense, but the coach believed, and he made his players believe, too.

That's because Stevens got away from telling his players just to do the best that they could and stressed something else. Said Stevens, "I told them at the start of the year that I probably didn't do you guys right last year (when they lost in the first round of the NCAA tournament to LSU), and we need to shoot for everything we can, and if we come up short, we come up short."

The Bulldogs have come up long on courage, resourcefulness and focus, because this is what destiny looks like during a Final Four game:

* It wins despite shooting 31 percent from the field.

* It wins despite just one field goal during the game's final 12 minutes.

* It wins despite having two of its most crucial players miss much of the stretch drive, with Shelvin Mack suffering from dehydration and Matt Howard suffering from a significant bump to the head.

* It wins despite Michigan State -- an NCAA powerhouse, with six Final Four trips in the last 12 years, and with the mighty Tom Izzo as its coach -- trailing 50-49 inside of the last 23 seconds, and dribbling downcourt for the potential game-winning shot.

This also is what destiny looks like: Butler surviving and advancing no matter what, just like those old North Carolina State teams, especially the bunch that featured Jim Valvano running in search for a hug after its miracle over Phi Slamma Jama. I mean, no way, Michigan State's Draymond Green was supposed to miss what virtually was a layup in the lane near the end of those 23 seconds.

Hayward nodded, because although he didn't get the rebound after Green's miss, Hayward likely got something else while defending the play. "Just tried to hold my ground a little bit," he said, easing into a chuckle. "I don't know if I got a piece of the ball or maybe a piece of the arm. Just glad we got the stop."

Destiny always gets the stop.

Soon afterward, Butler's Ronald Nored was doing his part to show what destiny also looks like. With Butler still holding that lead of 50-49 after Green's miss, there were six seconds left -- enough time for a Michigan State comeback -- and Nored was at the foul line, where he was three-for-12 during the tournament before the game.

He made both shots.

Then again, it was destiny.

"I just thought they were going to go in," said Nored, shrugging. "I've been practicing all week, practicing for the last few weeks to knock them in, just because I've been so terrible in the first five games. So you know, I just thought, 'If I focus.' I did my routine, took a deep breath, knocked it in. My teammates believed in me. My coach believed in me."

Butler just believes.

Everybody else should, too.