Wearing a reversible green and white MSU jersey, I, along with two dozen other local and national journalists who cover the MSU men’s basketball team, participated in a two-and-a-half-hour basketball practice coached by Izzo.

The afternoon allowed all of us to truly experience what his team endures on a daily basis inside Breslin Center’s walls.

And it wasn’t just a gong show of layup lines, shooting around and slamming into one another trying not to look athletically absurd.

Well, it might have been a little bit of that — with Izzo, his coaching staff and the team all sharing countless laughs at our expense.

But it was so much more for former men’s basketball reporter Joey Nowak and I — a physically and mentally tough experience we’ll never forget.

Just ask my sore, aching thighs — they’re still screaming at me, “What did we ever do to you to deserve this pain?”

It started off in the MSU basketball theater where Izzo showed us the drills we’d be participating in to imitate the Spartans.

Then we hit the hardwood in the auxiliary gym to stretch as a group before going into two-ball dribbling and a variety of catch-and-shooting drills. Also, we focused on inside-outside dribbling while running the length of the court. War-like rebounding drills and a variety of layups were on the agenda, as well, before being broken up into four groups: two print groups alongside two broadcast teams.

Mocking the Spartans’ practice habits genuinely showed how disciplined and locked-in Izzo’s teams are — taking every stretch and every individual shot seriously. The team coached us as if they were coaching each other, simply trying to become a better basketball team.

When you do something right, such as make an extra pass and show unselfishness, senior captain Travis Walton will let you hear it. Just as true is the other side of the spectrum. If you forget to box out your man, Izzo or Walton will let you hear it.

That’s basketball. Just because we were media didn’t mean we weren’t told how to improve. Clearly, that’s the way Izzo has shaped this program — honing in on the positives and constantly improving even the slightest slipups.

Intensity and getting rowdy are much bigger aspects of any everyday practice than I first realized. It’s not all about being completely serious and stiff. If someone dives to the floor for a loose ball, you’re expected to yell and congratulate them while sprinting over to help them to their feet. If the noise wasn’t there, everyone would run until they got excited.

One mistake could lead to a key loss, something Izzo would never tolerate.

Walton looked at us, told us we worked our tails off and then deemed us, “Team Swagger,” he said. “Because no one on the court had swagger like us.”

On the main floor at Breslin, we ran plays out of Izzo’s book before full-court scrimmaging for bragging rights.

We held it down for the print journalists and I even hit the final shot of the day — a 3-pointer from the left elbow — to clinch victory for every journalist who ever hid behind a byline and stayed off the screen.

That one was for all of you: Print 1, Broadcast 0.