Illini Power Rankings: It's Great to Be Taken Seriously Again

I recognize that I might be making enemies right off the bat here, but you should know that I am a diehard St. Louis Cardinals baseball fan. This is for a variety of reasons—family tradition, a century of success, a general understanding of what is right and just in the universe—and all told, our family has three primary religions: Cardinals baseball, Illini basketball and Catholicism. (That we’ve got a Pope who also understands the Cubs menace doesn’t hurt either.) My Air Force veteran father has two flags that fly over his home. One is an American flag. The other is a Cardinals flag, which flies until they are eliminated from the playoffs or lose in the postseason, at which time it is replaced by an Illini flag, which flies until we lose in the tournament, at which time it is replaced by the original Cardinals flag. These are the central organizing principles of our family’s life, and they will remain so long after all of us are gone.

But here’s something I have to confess as a Cardinals fan, even a Cardinals fan avid enough to host a weekly Cardinals podcast with the great Bernie Miklasz: I don’t think the Cardinals can hurt me anymore. This is what our teams do, after all: They hurt us. We give them everything—love, money, time, hope, dreams—and they typically return the favor by punching us in the face. As I wrote in The Washington Post earlier this month:

Being a sports fan is, more than anything else, a foolish investment. The investment can be financial, familial, emotional, spiritual or just the commitment of a disturbingly large percentage of your free time. (It’s usually all of those things at once.) But the most important aspect of the investment is that it is almost certain you will never see a return on it.

When the Chicago Cubs finally won the World Series in 2016 after a 108-year drought, the team’s fans, on a wall near Wrigley Field, began writing the names of loved ones who had cheered for the Cubs their entire lives but never got to see them as champions. It was a sweet, moving gesture, but it also was an implicit acknowledgment that those fans wasted large swaths of their lives begging for a World Series title that never came … and then they died. That’s what being a sports fan is about.

But in 2011, the Cardinals paid off. You may vaguely remember the 2011 World Series.

That, I would argue, is the best feeling available to a sports fan. It simply does not get better than that. Everything I could have ever dreamed of as a Cardinals fan, it all happened that World Series. And I think it broke something in me as a Cards fan or, more accurately, it forever healed me. Ever since then, I just cannot get that angry about the Cardinals. Even if the Cardinals disappoint me every year, the rest of my life (and they're certainly well on that path at the moment), it will not counteract that experience. I want the Cardinals to win. I will always cheer for them. But they gave me that. And if that’s all they ever end up giving … that was enough. That moment made it all worth it. They gave me all I needed.

Which just leaves one thing, as a sports fan, left.

I turned 50 years old earlier this month. I was 13 when Sean Higgins got that rebound. I was 29 when Sean May got every foul call and Luther Head missed that shot. Either one of those games going the other way would have changed my life forever—it would have made it all worth it. Instead, I have just one more sports fan mountaintop left to climb in this life. The Illini men’s basketball team is the only itch left to scratch. And boy oh boy does it itch.

One of the most exciting aspects of the Brad Underwood era is that it has allowed me, and all of us, to believe again. Underwood has treated the Illinois job the way that we’ve all treated it: As one of the best in college basketball, and one very much capable, even deserving, of winning a national championship. One of the things that hurt the most about losing in 2005 was the sense that while North Carolina didn’t even consider that team one of their favorite vintages (and they didn’t, and don’t), and that they’d end up making it back sooner rather than later (and they did), that was the Illini’s one chance. You feared, when we lost that night, that we might not make it back again.

And we haven’t. But under Underwood, the way this program is being run, with the resources available, we can. It doesn’t mean we will: As we all learned in 2021, even when you have a team that can do it, it only takes one bad 40-minute stretch to make it all go poof. But we’re going to keep getting bites out of the apple. I believe one of these years it will happen. I truly do. And who knows? Maybe it’ll be this one.

One thing I do know: If it does happen, I, and the rest of my family, and all of you, are going to be standing right there when it does.

On the cusp of a new season, I absolutely cannot wait.

As always, these rankings are ridiculous, uninformed and written primarily as a nervous tic--think of them almost like me lancing a boil. There may be nothing I think about more than the Illinois men's basketball team. My name is Will Leitch, a contributing editor at New York magazine, a columnist at The Washington Post and for The Athletic, national correspondent for MLB.com and author of seven books, including the novels How Lucky, The Time Has Come and Lloyd McNeil’s Last Ride. I also write a free weekly newsletter about parenthood and living through these tumultuous times that you might enjoy: You can find it here. I am (somehow, still) perhaps best known as being the founder of the late sports website Deadspin, though I’d prefer you think of me as “former Daily Illini sports editor” and "forever Mattoon Green Wave."

As long as you will have me, I will be writing these Power Rankings all year. Go Illini.

14. Ty Rodgers.
I’m not going to include Ty in these rankings the rest of the year, at least until he returns (which I’d be pretty surprised to see happen), mostly because I don’t want to be sad every time I write these. By all accounts, Rodgers was an absolute dream teammate last year, redshirting because he wasn’t going to get enough playing time (despite being an every-game starter on a team that had just reached the Elite Eight) but never being anything less than totally devoted to his teammates, and Illini basketball at large. Then, shocking everyone, he has such a good time that he returns to the team anyway … just in time to blow out his knee. Someday, when Rodgers is a coach somewhere, this is going to be a soft-focus pregame feature you can watch for years on the Illini BTN-Plus Channel (which I subscribe to, like a chump) and it will make you continue to love Rodgers forever. But for now, it’s just a huge, huge bummer. Rodgers still has eligibility beyond this season (he’s only a redshirt junior), so we will see him on the court again. Even if it’s not with the Illini—and I bet it is—I’m going to give him a standing ovation. He will have earned it. And not just because it’s easy to pronounce his name.

13 and 12. AJ Redd and Blake Fagbemi. Whether or not these two are officially walk-ons or not—and it’s so much more difficult to get official information out of the basketball program than it used to be, which is annoying but not nearly as annoying as when we used to miss the NCAA Tournament all the time—they will be serving functionally as walk-ons all year. Fagbemi got more run than I was expecting during the Illinois State exhibition, and he had a solid high school career, so I can see him getting a little run if our guards get in foul trouble, but that’s about it. Redd, for what it’s worth, had more assists than Carey Booth did last year.

Oh, by the way, here’s your annual reminder where former Illini are playing in 2025-26:

● Carey Booth: Colorado State (just in time for his dad to get fired by the Nuggets)
● Skyy Clark: UCLA (we’ll have a discussion later this year about the appropriate way to treat Morez when we play Michigan, but I’m Team “I don’t boo players but if you want to boo Skyy Clark, that’s probably the guy to boo,” for what it’s worth)
● Jayden Epps: Mississippi State (we got way too excited about this guy back in the day)
● Dra Gibbs-Lawhorn: UNLV (I hope he kills it there)
● Amani Hansberry: Virginia Tech (still our second-leading scorer in the Elite Eight game)
● Sencire Harris: Cincinnati (somehow still just a junior?)
● Morez Johnson Jr.: Michigan (grrrr)
● Brandon Lieb: Illinois State (looked exactly like Brandon Lieb in the exhibition game)
● Niccolo Moretti: Florida Atlantic (remember when FAU was a thing?)
● Connor Serven: Mercer. (Scored three points over three years with the Illini, don’t you remember?)
● Tre White: Kansas (I bet he’s better than AJ Storr was there)

11. Jason Jakstys.
I saw him during the Big Ten Tournament and noticed how huge he was. It’s wild how big basketball players are. In real life, if you saw Jason Jakstys, you’d be like, “that is the tallest human being I have ever seen,” and then you get him around other basketball players and you can go an entire season of obsessing watching a team and never even notice that he is there. I am looking forward to him fouling the most annoying big guy on the opposing team a couple of times, it’s always helpful to have someone who will do that for you.

10. Jake Davis.
We must continue last year’s tradition of yelling “Jake Davis!” every time Jake Davis takes a shot, whether it goes in or not. On a team with some extremely complicated names, we must take advantage of a good nine-letter first and last name combo when we have the opportunity. I’m not sure where Davis actually fits in on a team like this, but I thought this last year too … and I was right, he never really fit in on that team either. He plays hard and hits the occasional three, but if you are really in need of something from Jake Davis, you are already in trouble. Nevertheless: Jake Davis!

9. Brandon Lee.
He got a whole bunch of run in the exhibition game, and he looked both smooth and a little bit out of sorts. I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have noticed him as much if we hadn’t been kinda disappointed (unfairly) in Keaton Wagler in that game. Lee looks like a guy who will score, like, 18 against, I dunno, UT Rio Grande Valley or something but has trouble getting on the court at all during the Big Ten season. After the past years of Epps and Clark, I find myself having a difficult time getting too invested in freshman guards sticking around all that long, with the exception of Keaton Wagler who of course is going to make four, maybe five, perhaps 11, All-Big Ten teams.

8. Mihailo Petrovic.
I’m joking about Wagler, but I do think the Wagler hype—Mike LaTulip said on the Illini Inquirer podcast that he thinks he’s going to be the starting point guard all year—has a clear downside for Petrovic, who has had a hard time getting on the court, either because of injury or “eligibility issues.” (Side note: I’m glad “eligibility issues” is no longer code for “can’t get grades” and instead means “is from another country and is possibly 43 years old.” Seems like one of those rare societal improvements.) I’m open to the idea that Petrovic—who, let it be known, I, like just about everyone, have never seen play an actual second of basketball, the sort of factoid you should keep in mind whenever you read anything about him—will be a steadying veteran influence once he gets in the rotation. But I think Boswell already has this more than covered, and Wagler already looks plenty chill as is. I definitely know who I’m going to bum a smoke from on this team, though.

7. Ben Humrichous.
So, here we are again! The compulsively disappointing transfer from last year—the guy who was better in total than we remember but may have been personally responsible for me screaming “why in the world is he even in right now?” more than any player since Matthew Mayer, another player who was better than we remember him (and a lot better than Humrichous) but still mostly existed just to drive you insane—is, surprisingly, back. He seems primed to benefit from some dramatically reduced expectations, but he still can’t play defense and he still can’t rebound, so every time he misses a 3-pointer will feel a lot more annoying than it probably should be. Beware, though: He’s going to start more than games than you want him to, and more than you’re probably expecting.

6. Zvonimir Ivisic.
Just one exhibition game in, and I’m ready to say:

● He’s going to win us a couple of games by himself this year.
● He’s a better rim protector than his brother.
● He may be a better shooter.
● You can see why he sorta drove Arkansas and Kentucky fans crazy.

He just feels streakier, less reliable than Tomislav, not a guy you’ll ever feel comfortable running the offense through (or putting on the floor at the same time as his brother) but, when he’s on, will have games where he looks like the best player on the court. Again, Arkansas and Kentucky fans can vouch for this: When he’s locked in, he looks like an NBA player. But when he’s not, he might as well not be on the floor at all. Maybe playing alongside his brother all year unlocks some consistency: That’s surely the plan. But I’m going to try to enjoy the happy moments he gives us without assuming they’re going to be consistently repeated.

5. David Mirkovic
Color me skeptical that he’s going to be anything resembling the pivot point to the offense the way he was in the Illinois State game. I love doing the Jokic cosplay as much as anyone, but man, the Big Ten is full of dudes who are going to be on him the minute he starts dribbling upcourt: He has better handles than your average dude who looks like him, but I don’t think he has that kind of handles. I think he’s more a change of pace guy than someone who you’ll really run an offense through; you can do that against Illinois State, but not Michigan State. (Plus: That’s Tomi’s job anyway.) I’m going to enjoy him every game, though, and there is no way he doesn’t get in multiple fights this year, I can’t wait. I’m not sure the shooting is really going to come though—he’s going to miss so many free throws—and I’m assuming someone on the coaching staff is eventually going to tell him that.

4. Keaton Wagler.
All right, this is as high as I can go. But I’m very intrigued. He really does look extremely relaxed in a way that KJ—whom I will defend until the end of time—never quite did. KJ always looked like he was trying to do everything, all of the time; Wagler looks like a dude who will just sorta kick it for a while until he sees the right opening. (I’ll say he already looks super fun to play alongside.) What’s so funny about all the hype about him is that he doesn’t seem to play like a guy who we usually get hyped about: The talent is quieter, more chill. I love dudes like that, and while we’ll certainly see all sorts of Freshman Moments, your uncle is definitely going to cut him more slack than he allowed KJ. I really want a Kiwane Garris-type dude who is here for four years, who just owns the place, who is old school in the way that most of basketball isn’t anymore but we all still kinda miss. I think Wagler might be this guy? How excited am I about him? I’m always stopping random people on the street with, “no, it’s WAHHH-gler.” Let’s go.

3. Andrej Stojakovic.
Is it weird that he can’t shoot? It’s weird, right? How is Peja’s kid not a shooter? He’s apparently more of a slasher, like a skinnier Terrence Shannon, a guy who can get to the rim and hit free throws rather than one who drains threes. I’ll confess, this makes me a little nervous about him. First off, this team really does need shooting—we always need shooting, which is strange because that’s always the thing Underwood is claiming we have—and second, well, I thought slashing to the rim and getting to the line was Kylan’s job? I have Cal friends who are more skeptical about Stojakovic than I was expecting him to be. But I believe enough to still keep him this high, particularly when he has a lot more talent around him than he did in Berkeley. But seriously: How is Peja’s kid not a shooter?

Also: He is gonna be ready for the Texas Tech game. Right? 

2. Tomislav Ivisic.
First off, can we make sure that Tomi isn’t that one kid in everybody’s class who is, inexplicably, sick all the time? It was mono last year, and all the weight lsos, and this year he was sick again and then had his tonsils taken out to feel better and I’m starting to worry rickets and Gastroenteritis and whooping cough are just around the corner. (I’ve decided to blame RFK Jr. for all of it. You should too, it’s fun.) I say all this because Illinois had no more important player than Tomi last year: Everything ran so much more smoothly when he was in the game. He does everything you want: I bet he ends up having the longest NBA career of anyone currently on the roster. Also, he’s kinda goofy in a way I bet I’d understand better if I were Croatian: I bet he cracks all the other Eastern Bloc guys up. I want a full season of Tomi Health. Let’s reinstitute the Covid protocols!

1. Kylan Boswell.
Here’s a bold prediction, you paid for bold predictions, you’re gonna get one: That Boswell didn’t even receive any votes for the All-Big Ten team is going to look very, very stupid by season’s end. He was one of the best players in the conference for the final month of last season—he was definitely the best player on the Illini—and he’s the unquestioned leader of the team: The hype on Wagler didn’t really get going until Boswell started praising him so vociferously. He’s the point guard, but really, it’s just The Guard: The guy who settles everybody down, the guy who can hit the lane and get fouls, the guy who is eventually going to start hitting threes (which he did at Arizona) and, most of all, the guy who can shut down the other team’s best scorer, which he did consistently last year. I think pretty much all of college basketball is sleeping on him this year. But not for long. Why am I so high on this team? Why do I think this might be one of the three best teams since the Deron-Dee team? It’s Boswell. He’s the guy. I can’t wait.

Will Leitch is a columnist for The Athletic, contributing editor at New York Magazine, columnist for The Washington Post, national columnist for MLB, and the founder of the late sports website Deadspin. Subscribe to his free weekly newsletter and buy his novels “How Lucky,” and "The Time Has Come” and Lloyd McNeil’s Last Ride from Harper Books.