I’ve never seen coach Bill Carmody so upset. As he walked across the court for his postgame radio interview, the hitch in his gait suggested he wasn’t just seeing red – he felt it in every fiber of his being.

He waited on the court, flanked by two sports information directors. Suddenly he jerked his body around and cursed silently between clenched teeth. A few moments later, after a sigh, he composed himself, walked up to the press table and took his headphones. His jaw twitched as Dave Eanet set up the interview with a curt game summary (“-Ohio State beat Northwestern-“), then answered as coherently as he could:

“- I’ll take responsibility for not calling a timeout – I thought we did okay rebounding-wise – (the last play), it was bad, it was bad-“

Carmody sighed again. “If we could only stop them one time.”

In his six years at Northwestern, Carmody has accomplished a lot. He has resurrected a program to the point where fans who attended Wednesday’s game actually expected a win over the No. 8 team in the nation. Powerhouses have strutted inside Welsh-Ryan Arena and been stripped, within seconds, of all their brass and aplomb.

But the Buckeyes have been the Leprechaun that’s danced around the Welsh-Ryan magic. Carmody has beaten every Big Ten team except Ohio State, against which he’s now 0-9. You have to believe he wanted last night’s game. Badly.

He had it, too. He did all the right prep work, pushed almost all the right buttons:

Carmody stressed rebounding, and – in what may be the biggest coup of the year – his team outrebounded the Buckeyes 33-26, including 8-7 on the offensive end.

Carmody wanted more players to step up, and he got valuable contributions from Bernard Cote and Mike Jenkins.

Carmody needed his veterans to play with urgency, and Mohamed Hachad went 5 for 5 from the field and Vedran Vukusic, assertive from the start, played all 40 minutes and hit 3 of 7 from beyond the arc.

Carmody’s plan unfolded according to script for 39 minutes Wednesday. He knew his team had a golden opportunity to show the NIT committee (now part of the NCAA, stripped of the east coast bias and the blokes that passed up Carmody’s 16-13 team in 2002) that it was worthy of the postseason.

The trap was set.

And then, in one minute, it all unraveled.

With 54 seconds left and NU up 53-52, Evan Seacat caught a pass with a toe out-of-bounds. Turnover.

With 35 seconds left, Ohio State’s Ron Lewis missed a 3, only to have the ball fall into the hands of Terence Dials.

With less than 20 seconds left, Jamar Butler got stripped of the ball, only to have it squirt out to a teammate. It eventually found Lewis, who sent everything to hell in a drive-to-the-basket with a layup that gave Ohio State a 54-53 lead.

Then, with 10 seconds and counting, Sterling Williams dashed 85 feet, elevated, and then, at that final torturous moment, lost all sense of what to do. Maybe next year he’ll take the shot; maybe if he did it again he would pass to Hachad or Vukusic; maybe –

Williams tried to squeeze the ball to Cote. The pass got intercepted.

For that play, Carmody tried to take all the blame. He looked shaken as he gave his opening statement at the postgame press conference, his right hand gesticulating every which way, the words coming out soft and muffled.

The gist of his statement was this: “I should have called a timeout. I take full responsibility for this loss.” It was obvious he was hurting – he invested so much into one game, only to see defeated snatched from the jaws of victory.

Again, I’ve never seen him like this. I asked if he remembers ever being so upset.

“No,” he replied. After a pause, he clarified, “I mean, I don’t get too high or too low. I’m mad for a while-“

His voice trailed off.

Then, assuredly, he said, “I’m okay.”

Sure, it’s just a game. But you can’t blame coaches for betraying, once in a while, the idea that this “game” can mean so much more.

Sports editor Anthony Tao is a Medill senior. He can be reached at [email protected].