Cornell Counts on Closeness Against Kentucky

ITHACA, N.Y. — There are some days at the old, ramshackle house here on Dryden Road when things get so dirty that even 15 college guys cannot cope. In their rickety three-story dwelling, where 14 members of the Cornell basketball team and a team manager live near campus, teamwork involves cleaning with a shovel, scooping up the empty Mountain Dew cans and Subway wrappers as if they were another snowdrift.

A sign above an overflowing garbage can in the kitchen, which has a red Soft Batch cookie package sitting on top like a cherry, reads, “If the trash is full, please be helpful and take it out.”

Big Red forward Alex Tyler walked by Monday night, shrugged and said, “No one is being helpful right now.”

With No. 12 Cornell in the Round of 16 of the N.C.A.A. tournament and facing No. 1 Kentucky on Thursday, the matchup creates a near-laughable contrast. Kentucky’s and Cornell’s talent, budget and pedigree are worlds apart. Cornell’s biggest edge may come from a togetherness forged by floors covered in Gummy Bears, trash cans overflowing with Krispy Kreme cartons and hallways filled with salt-stained work boots.

All eight Cornell seniors live in the same 15-bedroom house, where rents are $520 to $600 per month. But the priceless part is that the Big Red can boast a unique veteran experience and togetherness to combat Kentucky’s starting lineup of three freshmen, one sophomore and one junior.

“I think that’s why they’ve done what they’ve done over the course of their careers,” said Randy Wittman, the father of the senior star guard Ryan Wittman and a former college star at Indiana and N.B.A. coach. “The closeness and caring they have for one another.”

Kentucky players are leery of the news media’s angle projecting the Big Red as the heady players against the talented but less savvy Wildcats.

DeMarcus Cousins, the star Wildcat freshman big man, said the game would not be determined by “who can read the fastest.”

Cousins added: “We’re here to play basketball. It’s not a spelling bee.”

Cornell does not use a quirky offensive system like Princeton or have an N.B.A.-caliber star. The players, coaches and other observers credit the uncommon closeness of this group, in part, for its synergy on the court.

Last weekend, against No. 5 Temple and No. 4 Wisconsin, the Big Red’s intricate offense clinically carved up two of the country’s top defenses. It shot 59 percent from the field and 45 percent from 3-point range against teams that were ranked Nos. 3 and 4 in the country in scoring defense.

“It all came together this weekend in a lot of ways,” Cornell Coach Steve Donahue said. “We played our best basketball. We played our most poised and relaxed basketball. Guys being around each other, it definitely helps that they bond so well.”

For most of Donahue’s 10 years at Cornell, the only time Newman Arena sold out was when the Harlem Globetrotters played there each season. But this senior class has transformed the program from an Ivy League afterthought to an improbable power.

They play an offensive hybrid using pieces of the Princeton, John Beilein’s two-guard and controlled motion concepts. Or, as St. Joseph’s Coach Phil Martelli said: “The basketball purist in all of us should give them a standing ovation. It’s Basketball 101 to the highest degree.”

The distinct hallmark of this Cornell team is its unselfishness, something epitomized by a conversation between Tyler and the senior forward Jon Jaques on the third floor of their house on Monday. Tyler was injured earlier this season and Jaques, who had not played a significant minute his entire career, filled in so well that he took his starting job.

Donanue said that in many programs, Tyler would pout and pollute the team chemistry, as his average minutes dropped from 22 to 11.

“The opposite happened,” Donahue said. “Alex Tyler is the first one off the bench, hugging Jon. I think that comes with the bonding with what they’ve done off the court. It would be foolish in their minds to worry about basketball before their friendship.”

On Monday, as Tyler walked to the bathroom to shave, Jaques warned him not to do it. Jaques is convinced that Cornell lost its game at Penn because he hopped in front of Geoff Reeves in the line to get his ankle taped.

Tyler: “Do you think we’re going to lose if I shave?”

Jaques: “Maybe.”

Tyler: “I like to have some scruff before the game. But not this much. If I shave now, in a couple days, I’ll have some scruff, so I’m not some clean-shaven little Ivy League kid. But if we lose, I’m going to have this on my conscience for the rest of my life.”

Jaques: “It’s up to you.”

Tyler shaved.

Jeff Foote, the 7-foot center, drapes a Philadelphia Eagles blanket over his wall more to keep the cold from coming in the window than displaying his love for the team. He was reading the Cornell basketball blog on Monday while a “Berry Jam” scented candle worked to combat any odor in the room. Next to his bed was the book “The Truth About Chuck Norris” for inspiration.

The junior Adam Wire and the senior Pete Reynolds played Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 on a projection television in Reynolds’s room. Wire is considered the messiest of the 15 house members because he eats the most and cleans the least. He lives on the second floor, where the bathroom has rotted to a point where few use it.

“The second floor in general is disgusting,” said Dana Costello, a sophomore cheerleader who is Reynolds’s girlfriend.

Wire shrugged. “It’s our own dirt,” he said, rationalizing why he is one of the few who still uses the shower.

The core of seniors has lived together, in some form or another, for all four years. Their favorite co-habitation story is of the former Big Red big man Brian Kreefer burning Jenga pieces in his room in order to stay warm after the heat went off.

In this house, pasta has rotted in a pan to become almost a life-form of its own. And in the first-floor kitchen, where feet stick to the floor like suction cups, the cleanest item is the stove because no one cooks down there.

“I still think this is better than your average frat house,” Jaques said.

The household decorations range from a vintage “Saved By the Bell” poster in the room of the team manager Eric Lastres to a Minnesota Twins Homer Hanky on Wittman’s wall.

The players are a geographically diverse group — hailing from Los Angeles to Nebraska to Toronto. But the common theme in every room was a stash of food. Wittman smiled as he explained that he keeps his Lucky Charms on a shelf to avoid his teammates’ stealing them.

“I’d say we’re unselfish on the basketball court,” he said with a laugh, “but not so much in the house.”

If they can pull an epic upset on Thursday night, it will because of their lack of selfishness. And for generations, they’ll have stories to share of the ragged house with sticky floors where they bonded.