3/28/05: Marching Into April

I was going to try to do a Bill Simmons-like running commentary on today's UNC-Wisconsin game, but I got caught up in the game so screw that.  Bill Simmons, while occasionally clever and insightful, is ultimately just a smug asshole from Boston, so I'm going to avoid doing anything that might associate me with him, even in my own mind. I will continue reading his annoying columns nonetheless.

I have always been a UNC fan, and I imagine I will be again after today, but as a Wisconsin alumnus I am experiencing genuine sports fanaticism right now.  I love my team and I HATE their opponent. It's 44-44 at the half, and I have found myself shouting at the screen several times in the first twenty minutes.

Did you see May push poor little Zach Morley in the back to get that rebound?

Did you see Wilkinson get hip-checked out of bounds after making that steal?

Why did Carolina get two straight possession arrows in their favor?

Didn't Marvin Williams double dribble after his big steal?

Does any other ball handler get away with as many flagrant carrying violations as Raymond Felton?

I am watching this game through Red-tinted glasses, for sure. It seems that every call has gone to UNC, although I know that's not true. The Badgers have some solid players and they all understand the system well. They generally don't screw up unless they're forced into it, but they also don't really have a guy who can take over a game. The reasons they're in the Final 8 are that they've stuck to their game and they've lucked out in the draw. Now they are up against a team that has NBA players at every position.  And I think that that's too much.  But we're scrappin' away like wild Badgers will do. Down 72-71, six something left. That's a lot of points. Carolina definitely won the tempo battle.

Oh, and now they've won the game as well. But it was a very impressive effort by the Badgers.  Strong season, strong program. The Alley Oop to Tucker with about a minute and a half left took my breath away. That was some ballsy stuff. I hope Tucker can find a way to play in the NBA.  He's a little undersized, but he's a load around the basket.  I predict he makes it. Dude's only a sophomore.

Congratulations to Dan "Bring the" Kois and all his Bois from UNC. You can't really ask for a better basketball program than that one, and thanks to Jordan they'll be good forever. I've always been jealous of people who went to school there.  It seems like such a perfect place.  Like Duke without the weasel factor.

***

In general, these last two days were the most enjoyable basketball I've seen in years. Just a pleasure from beginning to end. Right after I whined about how much TV I've been watching, too.  NCAA tournament = Best Sporting Event of the Year.  In no other event does victory seem so sweet and defeat so bitter. And Michigan State may be the most underrated program in the country. Izzo in the Hizzo.

Did you see the look of determination on Luther Head's face as he took it to the rack after making that huge steal in the Ill.-AZ game? It was magnificent. That Illinios team is very likable, even if they got away with some murder on defense at the end of that game.

***

I actually watched Saturday's games on the ol' DVR.  Unbelievable games, but I had to miss 'em live* because the wife and I had rented a car for the day so we could go on a huge household supply shopping trip out to Jersey and thereabouts. 24 rolls of toilet paper. 36 bars of soap. Two 64 ounce Gatorade bottles. Six bottles of shampoo. You get the idea. Major financial savings across the board. It might not seem like such a big event, but to a city kid like me, owning items in bulk is one of the major milestones of success in life.  The list goes something like this:

1. Beginner Membership: Food in belly, roof over head.

2. Standard Membership: Paying your bills on time every month.

3. Silver Membership: Having massive quantities of household items on hand at all times.

4. Gold Membership: Owning your own washer and dryer.

5. Platinum Membership: Having a separate fridge (the "beer fridge") in the garage for surplus beer, soda, etc.

Friends, I am entering the big-time. Two more stops 'til Trumpsville.

***

The most recent challenge (write a short defense of smoking) received some excellent responses.  It's been tough picking a winner. But that's what we gotta do, so we hereby award 15 verbungle.com genius points to the winner, cW, for this entry:

In college I "scammed with" a girl who later told me she "hooked up" with me because she liked the way I smoked my cigarette. Up until then I'd only been a casual smoker but that day I went out and bought a carton. Let that be a lesson to the young kids out there: smoking will get you "some".

I hate to give him more points, but anyone with the nerve to use the expression "get some" (or get "some" to ensure the irony is detected) needs to be rewarded. Especially because I think his is the most compelling entry, the one that could most plausibly get someone to start smoking.

We're also going to give ten points each to the runners up, CC, PBdotC, Sipsi, and Smoker.  Smoker gets props for the sheer hostility of his response.  Thanks to everyone for their thoughts.  This was tough.  I am going to try to ease up on the subjective challenges.  So today, for another fifteen genius points, wheredat? No answers until noon eastern, please.

***

CC also chimed in with this defense of the work pooper who sold me down the river last week:

shit stinks, more or less, even if you were the one who had a 'snap into a slim jim' bowel movement, it's not right for anyone to look down on anyone else because their shit smells. it's a fact of life. but there are always those who think their own shit don't stink. public or not, that's what toilets are for.

CC, I don't completely disagree with you on this.  Everyone's shit does indeed smell pretty bad. But my criticism of the mystery pooper was not based on the smell of his shit, which he presumably cannot help, but on the fact that he did it at work, in a bathroom we all have to use. His stinky poop gives more power to the argument against pooping at work, both because he stunk up a common area and also because an innocent non-work-pooper like me ended up taking the fall for his sin. But I realize sometimes you just gotta go.

***

Softball starts this weekend, people.  Sharpen up your spikes and, as Marlon Brando said to Maria Schneider in Last Tango in Paris, get out the neatsfoot oil.

* And the outcome of the Illinois-Arizona game was spoiled for me by a doofus radio DJ on some crap-ass station we were listening to in the car.