Every time I ask a Flyer fan to sum up the grandeur of UD basketball in a few words, the name “DePaul” comes up more often than any other adjective. And for good reason. The Dayton/DePaul series has produced some of the most memorable moments for both schools. From Mark Aguirre, Tyrone Corbin, Rod Strickland, and Tom Kleinschmidt to Jim Paxson, Ed Young, Dave Colbert, and Roosevelt Chapman, the players involved create a virtual catalogue of talent capable of playing against the best of the best. And with any great rivalry, Dayton and DePaul bring out the best in each other.

The two schools started playing each other decades ago, and eventually became part of the unofficial “Independent League” that also consisted of non-conference powers Notre Dame and Marquette. However, it was during the late 70’s and early 80’s that propelled the UD/DePaul series into one of the nation’s elite. Unlike other rivalries though, this one had a caveat.

Legendary Blue Demon skipper Ray Meyer consistently fielded teams in the Top-20 and eventually amassed 700 wins before passing on the torch to son and former DePaul Head Coach Joey Meyer. During this time, Dayton fielded strong teams of their own, but rarely enjoyed the national exposure and lofty rankings. DePaul took the role of customary favorite and Dayton played the upstart. As the series wore on, the Demons became a goliath in college hoops and helped sell out the UD Arena days before the game. It was in this same building that Dayton proved the homecourt advantage was one of the most powerful equalizers in sport.

In early 1984, Ed Young kissed a turnaround jumper off the glass as time expired to lift the Flyers to a 72-71 victory over #3 DePaul. A year later, lightning struck twice in the same building as Dave Colbert stuck in a Sedric Toney miss at the horn to give the Flyers yet another one-point win over the highly-ranked Blue Demons. Chicago media and DePaul backers eventually christened the UD Arena as the “House of Horrors.” Sandwiched between these victories was a UD triumph at the Rosemont Horizon that, at that time, made UD one of the first schools to ever win twice at DePaul’s home away from home.

Ask any DePaul fan and they will tell a similar story. The Dayton/DePaul series discards all of the records and press clippings for the chance to earn bragging rights among two institutions that have much in common despite their basketball lineage. The height of the series was a time when tailgaters, mascot wars, bedsheet signs, and rainbow wigs complimented the biggest game in college basketball on a cold winter afternoon.

Today, it is Dayton with the stronger program. DePaul must rebuild from two seasons of very poor basketball talent. Pat Kennedy starts his second season at the helm and has pieced together one of the top three recruiting classes in the nation – headed in part by local Chicago talent. Though Joey Meyer’s overall track record at DePaul was very respectable, Blue Demon fans aren’t used to losing, forcing him out of office in 1996. DePaul is once again pointed in the right direction, and could easily place among the Top-20 teams in the nation in another two or three seasons. For the UD/DePaul series, this is a good thing, but there will always be a fine line between talent and opportunism in this game.

Fourteen years ago, Larry Schellenberg tip-toed down the sideline after a Blue Demon missed free throw and passed to Velvet for the game winner. Chapman shocked us all by serving the ball to Ed Young, the lanky forward from Upper Sandusky, Ohio, who became a hero that day. But it was what happened after the shot that speaks of the importance of this game.

Amidst the hundreds of fans that poured onto the court after the buzzer, Dayton Head Coach Don Donoher started to run into the tunnel leading to the mens locker room. Halfway there, Don saw his son Brian sitting in the stands, waiting for a reaction from his father. Donoher stepped back, cracked a big smile, and hi-fived his son as NBC cameras caught the moment, etching a small but unforgettable piece of history into basketball immortality among the sea of red and blue pandamonium on a snowy February afternoon.