Illini Power Rankings: What Makes All This Special Is Us

Since leaving Champaign as a proud graduate of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in May 1997, I have lived in Los Angeles, California; St. Louis, Missouri; New York, New York and, now and for the last 13 years, in Athens, Georgia. When I left Champaign, I did not know what would await me in the outside world, how my career would turn out, whether I would have a family, if my life would be a happy one. Like all people, I have faced uncertainty, and loss, and the constant sense that the ground is forever shifting underneath my feet. You are always looking for something to hold onto. Something that strikes to you at your very core--that understands who you are, and who you have always been.

I have found this, forever, through Illini basketball. Wherever I am, no matter how far from home I might be, Illini fans, there you are.

You were there with me when I found a bar and some other stray alums on the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica back in February 1998, where I watched the late great Matt Heldman, a collegiate classmate whom I once traded Econ 105 notes with, score 16 points in a road win over Indiana on Senior Night to clinch a share of the Big Ten title in a game in which Bob Knight was this close to punching Teddy Valentine in the face.

(Whatever one's thoughts on Teddy TV, God, Knight was such a prick.)

You were there with me at Blueberry Hill in St. Louis in 1999, when we watched an 11-17 Illini team make a run all the way to the Big Ten Championship Game despite finishing last in the conference, finally running out of gas against a Michigan State team that would win the national championship the next season.

You were there with me in 2005 at the Riviera Bar Manhattan's West Village, where I once party crashed a Bill Simmons book party for my nascent Website, while we watched Illinois clinch a spot in the Elite Eight by beating Wisconsin-Milwaukee and the hated Bruce Pearl. We all spent the rest of the night cursing Pearl's name and sharing stories of Deon Thomas and Tom Michael and T.J. Wheeler and Tony Wysinger. You were actually there with me two years earlier when Providence pasted us at MSG and we still had more fans there than they did.

You were there with me in 2006, when we took the train from Manhattan out to New Brunswick to get pasted by a lousy Rutgers team, painting our faces to get stomped in the Rose Bowl in 2007, at the bar watching Illinois lose to Bill Self in Kansas in the second round the day after I found out my wife was pregnant with our first child in 2011. You were there with me so many places, in Indianapolis and Chicago and Happy Valley and Iowa City and Las Vegas and Knoxville and Minneapolis and Nashville, and all the places I went with my father and my sons and my friends to see the Illini, my Illini, the one constant I've had in my life since I was a very small child in Mattoon, Illinois, watching Dan Roan call games on WCIA and thinking that Illinois basketball was bigger than the Yankees, bigger than the stars, bigger than the sun. Wherever I have gone, there have always, always been Illini fans. They are always there wherever I follow the Illini because they have followed them there too.

I spent last week in Los Angeles, following them once again. And there were so, so many of you.

You were even there for the worst part, because you're always there for the worst parts, because you will always come back.

We are in the midst of a new golden age of Illinois basketball--the best it has been in 20 years, and the best it has been since 20 years before that--and this sort of success has many parents, from Josh Whitman to Ayo Dosunmu to Brad Underwood to Keaton Wagler. But the reason I believe this golden age is going to continue, the reason I think eventually we're going to get there, that the championship that has slipped so cruelly through our fingers is going to someday happen, is because of you. Because you're everywhere. Everywhere I've been, anywhere I could even think of going, there is always, always Illini fans. We have become the fanbase that takes the place over. We are in the inner-tier of fanbases. We've always thought that was true. But now we can prove it. And with every road game and road trip, we do. And whatever your thoughts on NIL, or the transfer portal, or professionals coming over from Eastern Europe or the G-League, having this sort of fanbase, one that's this obsessive, one that's this devoted, one that's this everywhere, assures, in this era, that this success is going to continue. The most important thing for your program to have in this era of college basketball is to have a dedicated fanbase who cares.

We have always, always been that. And now--and for years to come--we get to reap the rewards. Eventually we'll get what we've been waiting for. We will have earned it. I loved every single one of these Illini lunatics I met in Los Angeles, and New York, and Las Vegas, and Minneapolis, and everywhere else. I can't wait to meet all of you. And then, someday, we all get to make it. Together.

This is the fourth installment of my sporadic Illini Power Rankings this year: Here is the first and here is the second and here is the third. 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.

13. Jason Jakstys (previously: 10).
We'll shout-out Jakstys one more time; now that he's officially out for the season, he'll drop off the list like Ty Rodgers (who is obviously not coming back this year and, I suspect, not ever, at least not in an Illini uniform) for our next and final (?) entry. We'll always have this:

Congratulations, Jason: It's a TWO-HANDED JAM.

12, 11. AJ Redd and Blake Fagbemi (previously: 12, 11).
All right, so, on the eve of the Michigan game, let's talk about Morez.

The general presumption, since Morez Johnson Jr. announced he was transferring to Michigan in the offseason, was that, when he returned to State Farm Center, he would receive a booing of historic proportions. I am not personally a booer, but I am not here to lecture anyone on how they express themselves at sporting events that they've paid to attend; don't be offensive to anyone's race, gender or sexual orientation, don't be vulgar around kids, don't do anything that distracts from your seat neighbors' enjoyment of the game, but on the whole, hey, you do you.

I'm not sure we should boo Morez, though.

Five reasons:

⚫ These always end up making us look bad. The biggest boo-a-guy-for-not-playing-for-us incident in Champaign I can remember was when we went full-bore after Eric Gordon in 2008, as memorably chronicled by Pat Forde for ESPN back then. In retrospect, the notion that we'd scream "Liar! Liar!" at a 19-year-old kid for choosing not to attend our school--sample quote in that piece from a Krush member: "He's the reason we're in this situation, he's the reason we've got a losing record," which is not a quote wafting with dignity and self-respect--seems mean, petty and, honestly, a little embarrassing.

⚫ Morez made the right decision for him and, all told, is still a pretty cool guy. The things we loved Morez for are all things that Morez still is. Yes, sure, it's Michigan, grrrr, I hate those guys too, but it's one thing to boo Hunter Dickinson (something that's so justified I'm doing it right now, as he bumbles about for the Birmingham Squadron), and it's another to do it to a guy who played hard and well for us but has unlocked another level in his game while still being a bit of an affable goofball. (I love how he stands behind Dusty May and grins mischievously during his postgame interviews.) There are some guys who were real jerks on their way out the door here. (Skyy Clark comes to mind.) Morez wasn't one of them.

⚫ This is a bad habit to get into in the current era. Players are going to be shuffling in and out every year, and hectoring those who leave makes us look as mercenary as we are blaming players for being. Didn't you love when Coleman Hawkins and Dain Dainja came back for the Indiana game? They--along with Kasparas and Riley, of course--spoke of Illinois, despite ultimately going elsewhere, being their home. We should want this place to feel like home.

⚫ Booing one guy distracts the Krush. The problem with the Krush this year, by most accounts, is that they get too caught up with taunting the opposing bench or trying to rile up other players rather than making the crap-ton of noise they're supposed to be making. I don't want them bothering Morez on Friday. I want them screaming like crazy for us. These little side-fights are counterproductive.

⚫ We're better without him. I mean, we are, right? Morez would have helped our defense, sure--a lot. But David Mirkovic, UCLA and Nebraska games aside, is absolutely pivotal to our best-in-KenPom-history offense, and he would not be here if Morez had stayed. When Mirkovic is at his best, it is so, so hard to beat us. We turned out fine! Everybody won! It's all good! Let's move on!

We don't have to be the "he's the reason we've got a losing record" sadsacks anymore. We're awesome! Let Morez be Morez. Let's be the bigger people. Besides: Michigan is plenty hateable on their own. Let's go hate the ever-loving bejeezuses out of them.

10. Mihailo Petrovic (previously: 10).
I know we don't have official numbers on this stuff, and we never will, but: Where do you think Petrovic ranks on the most well-compensated Illini on this roster? Don't account for Keaton's NIL sales or anything like that. I'm talking signing bonus, what-got-him-here. I bet Stojakovic is making the most. The next three are probably the Ivisiiii and Boswell. But Petrovic's probably fifth, right? The professional point guard for a team that, when they brought him in, seemed to desperately need a point guard. (It did not turn out that we needed a point guard.) Of all the players on this team who have eligibility for next year, Petrovic is without question the least likely to be on the roster for 2026-27. I wonder if he'll be done with college basketball entirely.

9. Brandon Lee (previously: 8)
I'm surprised Lee didn't get more run in Boswell's absence. It was a mistake, I think, that he didn't play more in the Wisconsin loss, if just to provide another body; the six-man rotation that Underwood insisted on in that game killed us at the end, the guys could barely raise their heads by midway through the second half. I'm not sure he has a lot of utility with everybody back healthy, though. A 6-foot-4 guard who can't shoot (0-for-1 from 3-point this year) and isn't a ballhandler (three assists and five turnovers in 67 total minutes) has no place in this rotation this year ... and maybe not next year.

8. Zvonimir Ivisic (previously: 4).
Of all the guys who screwed up on the Donovan Dent basket, it was Z's fault the least, but it still looked bad: He'd never looked more like one of those inflatables that blow around in the wind outside car dealerships. He's in one of his prolonged slumps right now, and in a worrisome way: He has stopped shooting, he's missing dunks and he falls down all the time. (Should we get him some water wings or something? He seems very imbalanced.) He still diverts shots at the rim and gets his blocks, but he also has a bad goal-tending habit and is continuing his worrisome collegiate habit of fading as the season goes along. I'm a little worried the Michigan guys are going to break him in half. Do they have broken-nose masks for the whole body?

7. Jake Davis (previously: 6)
When he's hitting shots, it feels like we can't lose, but it should be said: He has very much been exposed defensively against high-quality opponents. He didn't have much hope against UCLA, and it may be even tougher against Michigan. Nobody plays harder than he does, and if anyone has one of those Krush wigs, I'll absolutely take one, but you can't help but wonder if his minutes are going to dwindle a little bit over these final weeks. I love him, but they probably should.

Underwood seems to agree with me, by the way. Check out his game-by-game minute totals:

Davis has been an unquestioned success this year, from two minutes in the Alabama game to a key starter during a 10-game win streak. But those minutes are going down, and I bet they continue to. Honestly: I'd start Humrichous against Michigan.

6. Andrej Stojakovic (previously: 2).
You have to account for whatever issues are perpetually going on with his ankle--a problem that sorta looks like it's going to linger his entire career--but I'm still not sure he entirely fits in. You do need a guy who cuts to the basket and drives the lane, particularly one who hits free throws like does (UCLA game excepted), and he has the length to make a difference defensively, but the problem is Andrej doesn't always play like that he's that guy: He wants to be more. And I get it: He was the star player and scorer at both places he played before Illinois, and he's also the son of one of my favorite NBA players of all time. But you get a sense his role here was meant to be Terrence Shannon Jr., always streaking down the court on a fast break, but because of Wagler's emergence, this team plays a strictly half-court game, eliminating a large part of what Stojakovic does so well.

He really does do it well, by the way.

Man, I loved that dunk. But the fact is: In a halfcourt offense like the one Illinois runs, Illinois doesn't need Terrence Shannon Jr.: It needs Tre White, a guy who cuts hard to the basket, plays defense and rebounds like crazy. And I'm not sure that's what Andrej does best. And I'm definitely sure that's not what he signed up for. We are a little late in the season for him still to be figuring out his role.

5. Kylan Boswell (previously: 13).
We now know, for certain, how much Illinois needs him: His presence was felt as urgently in the Indiana game as his absence was in the Wisconsin and Michigan State game. But Boswell made it clear at the beginning of the season that he wanted to be the Big Ten Defensive Player of the Year, that he wanted to be the backcourt defensive stopper, and I'm ... not sure he has always been that? He sure wasn't that against Donovan Dent. Illinois is uniquely vulnerable to quick, big guards, and we're constructed in a way that pretty much only Boswell (and to a lesser extent Stojakovic) can stop them. So if he can't, we're in trouble. This is the last month of Boswell's college career. He's a local kid who has been invaluable to this team for two years now. But if he wants to be a Trent Frazier-esque legend here ... now is the precise time for him to be that. There will be a tournament game we will lose if he isn't.

4. Ben Humrichous (previously: 7).
Once again, and forever:

Was he our best player against UCLA? I think he was? He has become the defensive player I trust the most, particularly on the fast break: Not every referee has discovered it yet, but he's outstanding at disrupting shots on the break without fouling. It has been quite a journey for Humrichous--there isn't a person on the planet who ever imagined he'd become a defensive stalwart--but he is now so good defensively, and hitting enough shots from three, that I am no longer instinctively grumbling every time he goes up to shoot. (And I did that for basically a full year. I suspect you did too.) I think he might be key against Michigan, a big strong guy who can move his feet defensively. I'm fairly certain he's going to miss a shot at some point in the tournament that will make me want to throw myself out a window, but I have come all the way around him: I think when he's hitting shots and fighting for offensive rebounds and guarding on the break, we are at our absolute best. What a wild thing to say.

3. Tomislav Ivisic (previously: 3)
The thing he has improved at the most, posting up underneath, may be what we need him to do the least against Michigan: That's the sort of thing they'll eat up. But it's hugely important for Tomi against teams that aren't as massive as Michigan, and it speaks extremely well for him that he has started to master it at the exact moment that Mirkovic has mostly supplanted him as the Jokic-esque big-guy-with-the-ball pivot and passer. The shot hasn't been falling lately, and I've accepted that he's just always going to be the person sprinting at the shooter a half a second late, but Tomi at last looks like himself again. Pity any little guy he gets in a mismatch underneath; he's been like vintage Deon Thomas lately.

2. David Mirkovic (previously: 3).
The UCLA game was miserable in the same way that the Nebraska game was miserable, and that would make me worried if I wasn't convinced that nobody takes a miserable David Mirkovic game harder than David Mirkovic does. (I'm fully expecting Underwood to tell us about an anguished late-night Mirkovic text after the UCLA game at a press conference following a great Mirkovic Big Ten tournament game.) Wagler is obviously Illinois' best and most invaluable player--seriously, good heavens, where in the world would be without him? Imagine how much heat Underwood would be getting from the message board crowd if Wagler wasn't this?--but Mirkovic is the rise-and-fall guy: When he's at his best, Illinois is also at its best. He makes everything work, a player who turned out to be not just a better shooter than everyone thought he'd be, but also turned out to be a lot calmer: I mean, seriously, he really does play a little bit like a College Jokic, or even like Derik Queen. It's remarkable that he's a freshman, and a real freshman too, not just an Eastern European guy we've decided to call a freshman: He just turned 20, and looks it. (Unlike Petrovic, who looks like he once tried to kill John Wick's dad.) I think if he comes back next year, he'll be an All-American. But that's next year. This year? We'll go as far as he goes.

1. Keaton Wagler (previously: 1).
There's a terrific piece in the ghost that used to be Sports Illustrated today about how Keaton Wagler slipped by everyone, and while that's an interesting recruiting story, my favorite quote was this one:

“When people talk about generational talent, they say, ‘Oh man, LeBron does this,’” Wagler’s AAU coach, Victor Williams says. “They’re gifts that guys have that people can see [physically]. With Keaton’s instincts and feel for the game, that’s generational also. That doesn’t come around often.”

I mean, that's it, right? There's a point in the piece when Wagler talks about how confused he was when Underwood and Boswell and company were hyping him up in the preseason. I’m just playing how I always do, he thinks.

"My game translated better than I thought it would. People would obviously talk about the physicality part and obviously the speed of the game. I thought it would be hard for me because I’m not the fastest, most athletic person. I thought it would be hard for me to adjust to playing against huge players, tall players. But once I started to get into a rhythm, it all slowed down.”

It is my belief that, in this age of strife, instability and discontent, the new superpower is not intellect, or athleticism, or even ambition. It is the ability, as the world goes mad around you, to keep your wits about you: To keep your shit together. To stay calm when no one else can. That's what Wagler has. I noticed, after the Purdue game, a brief spate of games where Wagler tried to do a little bit too much, when he'd take a shot early in the shot clock, or try to push his way to the basket when there was no route. We even saw this in overtime of the UCLA game with his logo three that missed. But none of that has phased him either. Wagler's game is being the guy who make the right pass and hit the big shot and be the one standing in the right place to get the rebound in the final seconds of a huge game, which is what really mattered in the UCLA game, and what we would all still be talking about had someone deigned to slow Donovan Dent down just one millisecond on that drive. Wagler does the spectacular with the same expression that he does the mundane. That's a superpower. He'll be gone, off to NBA stardom, in a month--hopefully a little longer than that, but certainly soon. But I'll never forget him. What a gift. He makes you dream so big. He makes you think it will all be OK.

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.