Chris Stewart Sports

As I write this, I'm still on the island of Maui, waiting on Thanksgiving dinner with the Bama basketball team in about three hours, and packing so we can fly home at 2 a.m. Central. Our flight is scheduled to arrive back in Birmingham tomorrow at 3:45 p.m.

It will make for a long day, but it's been worth. Obviously, from my standpoint, it's been a wonderful trip - with the exception of a near-death experience I'll share in a moment. Most importantly though, Alabama's basketball team came here and got better.

I don't think this team is better because they won two games after losing the first one. I think they got better because of HOW they won those games. They played solid defense, played two good halves of basketball days in the two wins, and played through a little adversity in game two.

They are also identifying two players who can help shut down an opposing team's top perimeter threat. 

Senario Hillman was the Tide's top defensive player coming into the season, and he has lived up to that billing. He now can get a couple of minutes rest during a game, because Andrew Steele can come in and pick up right where Hillman leaves off. The freshman from Birmingham is just tough - mentally and physically. His minutes increased in Maui, and you can look for that trend to continue.

Also, it is really a lot of fun to see Hillman developing into a complete player on the offensive end. He is no longer a guy who can only dunk the basketball on a fast break. He has developed enough consistency on his perimeter jump shot to force teams to come out and guard him. That is allowing him to blow by a defender and get into the paint. Whether he scores from there or not, he will make Alabama better by simply drawing players to him. He can then create scoring opportunities for his teammates - either by dishing off, or, even if he misses, there will be chances for offensive putbacks.

I still think this team can contend for the SEC title. They have to play more consistently, and there are areas that will still need to get much, much better if it is to happen. But it can, and hopefully it will.

Don't go snorkling, unless you can swim...

Yep. I came to that little realization about 100 yards out into the Pacific Ocean.

Bryan Passink convinced me to join him and Lance Walker, the team's Academic Programs Advisor, in an afternoon snorkling adventure following the Tide's win over Saint Joseph's.

It seemed innocent enough. We walked down to a beautiful area at the end of the beach known for its marine life. The location is referred to as "Black Rock" because of the obvious terrain, which also makes it a popular destination for the more adventurous to jump into the water from about 30 or 40 feet up at the top of the rock.

I thought we'd rent a mask, snorkle, and fins... swim out a few feet - maybe chest deep, and stick our faces down into the water. After I did that for a minute, I looked up and saw Bryan and Lance had gone out about 50 yards, and were motioning me to join them.

So I did.

I'd kind of gotten the hang of breathing through my mouth into the snorkle, and was somewhat comfortable with the fins. The scenery underwater was incredible. It was like watching a National Geographic special in person. Amazing.

However, as I started to get a little winded, I noticed that there was no sandbar after you passed the first 75 or 100 yards. In fact, the ocean floor appeared to be at a depth of about 75 to 100 feet and Black Rock itself was a good 25 yards from where I was currently swimming. It was at this moment that I was struck with something that, frankly, should have crossed my mind long before now.

I can't swim!

Okay, technically I CAN swim. But let's put it in perspective. TECHNICALLY, Jimmy Barnes was a quarterback. But in REALITY, you didn't want him lining up under center in an SEC game.

TECHNICALLY, I can swim. But I've got no dang business doing it 150 yards out in the Pacific Ocean.

Panic didn't set in immediately, but as just the slightest amount of water started seeping into my mask, the fear of being a week-long topic on "Nancy Grace" did cross my mind.

To make it worse, I didn't turn back. I kept following Bryan and Lance as they swam around the edge of Black Rock to a little cove on the other side. This is where a lot of people had gone, and in fact the scenery was incredible. However, as the smell of death begins to fill your own nostrils, it's kind of hard to appreciate a freakin' fish.

Did I mention I also started to cramp up during all of this?

That's right. Foot cramp. Arms getting tired. Heart beating out of your chest because this is the most strenuous excercise you've had since you played high school basketball 20 years ago. It also dawned me around this time that, while I really could die from this, I wasn't in this position because of a plane crash, or my boat capsizing. Nope. I had VOLUNTARILY paid a man $8 to rent me a snorkle set for an hour, put it on, and walked out into the water. 

Brilliant.

The big drawing point for most people was the big sea turtles. These were about 4 to 5 feet long, and would swim right up to you. As I finally got back around Black Rock, and headed toward the beach, Bryan got my attention and pointed toward one of them. While everyone else was swimming toward the turtle to try and pet it, I was looking for a saddle to possibly ride that sucker the final 75 yards back to safety. 

While I really was concerned for awhile, and truly am thankful to be okay, I still have no clue what possessed me to go out there. Maybe it was Passink's legendary peer pressure. Maybe it was the courage I'd built up from going down the big water slide at the hotel pool about 10 times over the course of the week. (By the way: Big difference in landing in five feet of water after coming down a slide, and swimming a 175 yards out into the Pacific.)  

Whatever the reason, I'm glad I did it. Not only did I get a great story to tell, I also picked up a new nickname...Aquaman!

Aloha, Happy Thanksgiving, Beat Auburn, and Roll Tide!