And then there were sixteen.
So far, the 2013 NCAA men’s basketball tournament has been pleasantly burdensome. My home has felt less like a place of decompression, and more like the main trading floor at 11 Wall Street. The phones have been non-stop, with hours of excited, incoherent, Bud Light-fueled gibberish logged from friends and family. The fire pit in my backyard has been consuming empty beer boxes with the same voracity¬†as Louie Anderson at a Sizzler buffet.
Beneath my roof, since tournament play began March 19, team brackets, boxes of microwavable snacks, and livers¬†have been¬†slowly disintegrating. The Orange Crush-Margarita shot was invented in my kitchen during last¬†weekend’s Gonzaga game.¬†Our 48 inch flat screen has developed a mind of its own, resisting my commands to broadcast anything not found on CBS, TNT, ESPN, TBS, or TruTV.
Tonight, the excitement begins again, as a growing number of hoops fans appear to be¬†abandoning¬†support¬†for the top-ranked teams, and instead silently routing for¬†underdog ¬†programs like Wichita State and Florida Gulf Coast Universities.¬†Currently tied for first place in both my family and work brackets, I’m keeping¬†hopeful¬†Miami and Louisville will not let me down like Gonzaga did.
If you haven’t been watching the NBA as of late, you missed the only reason to Wednesday night, as the Chicago Bulls ended the Miami Heat’s winning streak at 27 games. Following the loss,¬†a¬†Chicago fan¬†proceeded¬†to snatch¬†Lebron James’ head band¬†as he took the walk of shame toward the tunnel.
“Well played Sir.”
A Cleveland native perhaps?