Doyel: Elbow injury ends career of Purdue’s Isaac Haas, bullied to the breaking point

DETROIT – Right when it happened, he knew something wasn’t right. Gigantic Purdue center Isaac Haas, pulled to the floor by the latest in a long line of physically overmatched opponents, rolled over onto his stomach and felt his right elbow explode. With his right hand he was making a fist and letting go, trying to work some feeling into the fingers. With his left, he pounded on the court at Little Caesars Arena.

Because he knew.

Adrenaline and competition and desire got in the way at first, confusing him, convincing him he could keep playing Friday against Cal State Fullerton. He went back into the game less than 90 seconds later, but his body knew what his brain wouldn’t tell him. He grabbed a quick rebound, but immediately lost the ball. Turnover. A few seconds later he committed a foul. A few seconds after that, with Haas still trying to make that fist, coach Matt Painter summoned him back to the bench.

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Shortly after Purdue’s 74-48 wipeout of Fullerton, an X-ray revealed the crack in Haas’ elbow and the end of his college career.

A deep Purdue team led by Carsen Edwards moves forward, playing Butler on Sunday for the right to advance to the Sweet 16, but Isaac Haas’ Purdue career ended in a way we all should have seen as a possibility. Fans of other schools hate on Haas, hate on him for his size and his strength, but Haas was never a bully on the court.

He was the bullied.

This 7-2, 290-pound behemoth, so gentle it would break your heart if you spent five minutes with him, has been attacked for four years. Here comes a football analogy, which works for every reason: Remember the 2003 NFL playoffs, when the New England Patriots decided the best way to defend Indianapolis Colts quarterback Peyton Manning was to hold his receivers unabashedly, basically daring referees to throw a flag on every play, knowing referees wouldn’t be strong enough to do it? It was so egregious, the NFL decided that offseason to start emphasizing the illegal contact rule.

That’s how college basketball players defend Haas. They manhandle him every time he touches the ball, instinctively knowing two things: One, he’s so strong that it won’t necessarily look like a foul. Two, let’s see if the referees have the guts to blow the whistle every time it happens. Let’s. Just. See.

The first half Friday, before Haas was injured, was a revelation to me. Look, I’ve covered Purdue since Haas got here, but never have I sat as close to the basket as I was sitting at Little Caesars Arena. So close that I could see exactly what was happening to Haas. And officials, to their credit, tried to call a foul every time one happened. Well, early in the first half they did, until it just got too hard.

Officials called so many fouls that the early ledger was five fouls against Fullerton, none on Purdue, and then it got awkward. Fullerton fans were yelling at officials, pointing out the discrepancy, calling them cheaters. Fullerton coach Dedrique Taylor was pointing it out himself, in his own way. This game was on national television. The officials couldn’t let this continue, right? Soon the calls started going the other way. Funny how that happens routinely in college basketball.

What was happening to Haas early in this game was so egregious, so hard to watch, I tweeted the following midway through the first half:

“I'm at one end of court, the Purdue offensive end, literally 5 feet from court. Isaac Haas is 7-2, 290, stronger than anyone else, and he is getting mauled down here.”

It was scary, but not in the way I should have seen — the way we all should have seen — coming. It was like watching a bunch of tiny villagers torment a grizzly. How long before the grizzly hurts someone?

Turns out, that was the wrong question. The right question: How long before someone hurts the grizzly?

The second half, was the answer. Haas had entered the game literally nine seconds earlier, spun to the rim to pursue a missed shot by Vincent Edwards, and was confronted by 6-7, 200-pound Fullerton junior Dominik Heinzl. The Fullerton forward had no chance, and Haas literally walked through him on his way to the rim. Heinzl hooked his right arm into Haas’ left, leaned back — throwing all of his 200 pounds toward the floor — and down went Haas, landing hard on the elbow.

Do I think Heinzl tried to hurt Haas? Of course not. But he was physically overmatched by Haas, and fouling was his only weapon. Heinzl played nine minutes Friday and was called for four fouls. He wasn’t in there to do much else, because he doesn’t do much else. On the season he scored 76 points and committed 44 fouls, a pretty good ratio if this were hockey.

Fouling is the only weapon anyone has ever had against Haas, who has exceptional skill and shooting touch for a man his size. If he gets the ball, he’s getting off a decent shot, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. And if he gets off a decent shot, odds are he’ll make it given his career 59-percent accuracy from the floor. So, teams pull a Belichick on him. They cheat, in other words, if that wasn’t clear enough. They foul him repeatedly, because what referee has the guts to blow his whistle every single time?

An injury like the one Haas suffered Friday wasn’t inevitable — he made it almost his whole career without being badly hurt — but it’s not in the least surprising given the mauling Haas received Friday, a mauling Purdue folks will tell you was similar to what happened to Haas every game.

For years Purdue has lobbied anyone who would listen, anyone who might be able to make it stop — the Big Ten, the officials, even the media — in an attempt to give Haas a fair shake, to let him enjoy the same ability to move as the other nine players on the floor. Purdue has asked, essentially, for Haas to be officiated fairly.

But alas, life is not fair. And so in his final game at Purdue, three games shy of the Final Four he so badly wanted to reach this season with his fellow seniors, Isaac Haas was writhing in pain on a court in Detroit — an innocent kid pounding his fist into the floor, guilty of being too damn big.

Find IndyStar columnist Gregg Doyel on Twitter: @GreggDoyelStar or at facebook.com/gregg.doyel.