Eric Gordon: The Second Coming

Eric Gordon was never supposed to be the savior of Indiana basketball.

It isn’t that Gordon isn’t qualified for the job. He is, after all, a pure shooter and an even purer scorer who puts up points with almost embarrassing ease. He’s a cat treating college as if it’s a ball of yarn he’s merely toying with in the front yard until the NBA allows him admittance into its house.

If you have to spend a year in school, might as well go to the Final Four.

And it isn’t that Indiana fans are surprised at what he’s doing.

They put together a list of expectations for the former high school sensation exceeded only by his almost mythical list of prep accomplishments. Yes, they knew he was worthy of All-American consideration the moment he signed and they were damn sure he’d lead them back to their rightful place among the country’s elite programs.

To those who bleed both red and white, there simply was no doubt about what he’d do.

All of that talent and all of that skill and – consequently – all of those expectations were surely going to come together as some fulfilled prophecy of greatness.

But it wasn’t Eric Gordon’s prophecy to fulfill.

It was Damon Bailey’s.

So to understand Gordon’s importance, you must first understand the man who came before him.

The movie “Hoosiers” depicted a clean-cut, white guard who could out-shoot, out-think, and out-work any opponent. His name was Jimmy Chitwood and he was actually a sensationalized version of real life basketball player Bobby Plump.

But when the cult film for gym rats debuted in 1986, it was Chitwood, the movie character, who was raising Indiana high school basketball to legendary status nationwide.

Concurrently, Bailey was becoming a demigod within state boundaries.

Bob Knight, the former IU coach and the NCAA’s all-time leader in wins, personally gifted Bailey his fame in the best seller, “Season on the Brink.” Knight said Bailey was a better guard as an eighth grader than anyone on Knight’s team; a Hoosier backcourt that included All-American Steve Alford.

Books about Bailey’s ensuing high school career at Bedford North Lawrence – and at least two exist – should probably be located in the “Stranger Than Fiction” section. He poured in a state-record 3,134 points. He won the Naismith award as the nation’s top prep player. He led his tiny high school team to a record of 99-11 and, as a senior, he guided them further than anyone could’ve dreamed of.

Advancing through the state playoff bracket against much larger schools, Bailey willed BNL to stunning victory after stunning victory. In a state championship typical of his immoderate prep numbers, he erupted for 30 points, 8 rebounds, 5 assists, and 4 steals in front of over 41-thousand fans, which was the largest crowd ever to watch a high school basketball game. He scored his team’s final 11 points, including a pair of game-winning free throws. Bailey led his team on a Cinderella run, culminating in an Indiana high school championship, shocking the state in the process.

Just like Jimmy Chitwood.

The state changed the open-class format of the tournament in 1997. So a repeat of Bailey’s path to a title is more than improbable; it is now literally impossible.

Equally impossible was the chance that Bailey could live up to the expectations he would soon face at Indiana University. Bailey failed to average more than 12 points a game in his first three seasons in Bloomington.

He had a strong senior campaign, garnering Third Team All-American honors and finishing seventh on the school’s all-time career scoring list. He was a very good college basketball player, but he wasn’t special. To Knight’s dismay, he wasn’t even Alford.

After all, Bailey was never the Big Ten Player of the Year, a feat Alford accomplished twice. And Alford won a National Championship, but Bailey never played in the Final Four.

In 1990, Bailey was drafted 44th overall by the Indiana Pacers. He played just one season in the NBA and his most notable professional basketball honor was an All-CBA First Team selection after the 1997-98 season.

So when another 6-foot-3 high-scoring combo guard with a closet full of Indiana high school accolades committed to IU, Hoosier fans were slapped with a case of déjà vu.

Gordon isn’t white and he doesn’t don No. 22 (he’s actually No. 23), but he is an offensive Van Gogh, repeatedly turning the hardwood into his personal canvas.

But Gordon is more than a hoops artist; he is an Indiana basketball superhero. Scoring 33 in his first collegiate game. Dropping 29 against Georgia Tech in the Big Ten/ACC Challenge.

Bailey averaged 13.2 points a game in his Indiana career. Not even midway through his IU tenure, Gordon is basically doubling that. Anyone who has caught a glimpse of Gordon’s early season exploits wouldn’t be surprised if he had a cape hidden under that jersey.

Flash Gordon has made a name for himself in, well, a flash.

Meanwhile, after Bailey’s playing career ended, he was hired by his high school alma mater as head coach. But he stepped down in March and is now the part-owner of a warehouse in Bedford, Indiana.

A fitting job for the man who needed a storage facility for the massive collection of expectations he never could live up to.

Eric Gordon might be nearly two decades too late and one number too heavy, but he has already become what Damon Bailey was supposed to be…

The savior of Indiana basketball.