Tuesday, April 08, 2008


“And the fourth angel sounded, and the third part of the sun was smitten, and the third part of the moon, and the third part of the stars; that the third part of them should be darkened, and the day should not shine for the third part of it, and the night in like manner.”

News Desk: Columbia
A cold wind blows through downtown Columbia. It is a sad day, perhaps the saddest since ’88. Not only did the Tigers fail to make the tournament, and fail to win the Orange bowl, the ‘Hawks did...both. The forums and blogs are on fire with statements like these. “Chicken-hawks were handed the championship;” “Memphis deserved to win,” and according to someone at ESPN “Memphis still has the best season of any Div I team ever. “ To the first two comments, all I can say is, “score board.” To the third, the only winning streak that matters in college basketball is the last six. I remember KU’s great undefeated seasons...except that we lost in the tournament. And, I guarantee that the players at Memphis, as well as the fans, are not congratulating themselves on a ‘incredible season’ with the sound of ‘Rock Chalk, Jay Hawk, KU!!” reverberating through the arena. The thought chills me as I struggle to write in anything longer than short statements and pithy musings.
Dick Vitale, as one of ESPN.com’s ‘analysts’ was the only one to not choose the Jayhawks as even making it to the Final Four. Though, as Roy Williams once said, ‘if Dick Vitale knew anything about basketball, he’d still be a coach.’ I can only imagine the stony silence in his heart as he woke this morning.
While on the subject of Roy Williams: “At the moment, I don’t give a shit about North Carolina...” yeah, Roy, neither do I. Though, at this precise moment in history, as Roy is sitting in his office at UNC—the one that is smaller than Dean Smith’s—I can only imagine that indeed, he wishes it was him that was having a street named after him in Lawrence, which is exactly what will happen if Bill Self stays at KU: a street and a statue bigger than Phog Allen’s

I was awaken at around 03.30 GMT to the mournful wail of ‘Rock Chalk, Jayhawk, KU’ seeping from the collective consciousness that binds KU Alums the universe over and that manifests in a visceral, yet unrequited, stirring of the loins. Living five hours in front of 02.21 GMT tip off, and not having a readily available TV that broad cast the Game, I decided that the most prudent course of action was to go to sleep and read about the inevitably close, yet disappointing Game in the papers tomorrow—from hence forth known as ‘today.’ I can unreservedly say that my error was huge, and it will haunt me. Furthermore, with as much joy as there must be in Lawrence at this precise moment, hangovers notwithstanding, I can only look on with a vicarious gaze.
I leave you with this:

The tired old cliché, more tired and older than the cliché of ‘tired old cliché,’ is that a ‘picture is worth a thousand words.’ And, like most tired old clichés, it is true.
All energies flow according to the whim of the Great Magnet, and the Wheel of Karma must forever turn. The Universe demands balance, and as the self-appointed tortilla in the giant burrito of existence, it is my duty to find balance—call it my burden.


Post a Comment

<< Home