I'm excited. It's Spring again, which means
it's that time of year for growth, rebirth, sunnier days, and applying a
complete lack of knowledge about the game of basketball and guessing in such a
way that gets me a lot of points on the ESPN Bracket Challenge and manages to
frustrate the hell out of my friend, Bryan. Why would Bryan possibly get
frustrated? Because he knows things about sports – mystical, magical,
statistical, statagical things about sports. He even has a bevy of knowledge
about college sports, which is the upper echelon of esoteric sport knowledge.
Having in-depth knowledge of college sports is how you really prove your mettle
in the world of sports facts. Those who possess it are the types of men’s men
who can predict the future of Sportsworld for years to come. Those who lack it
are known by the aforementioned types as poseurs who can’t tell the difference
between your Tim Tebows and your Peyton Mannings. I, dear readers, fall into
this lowly and ignorant second camp.
When it came to be that time of year when March
began feeling particularly Mad, Bryan’s annual email plopped into my inbox with
the invitation I was so pleased to see. I read the message – nay, the
challenge! – telling me to join in Bryan’s group for bracketing enthusiasts. So
I got out my Ouija Board. That’s because I don’t know much about sports,
absolutely nothing about professional basketball, and actually have negative
knowledge on the topic of college “hoops.” That is to say, whenever I even attempt to think about college
basketball in any analytical way for longer than five seconds, I start forgetting
shit I know about other topics. So, when I prepare my Springtime Lunacy Bracket
I use magic that involves animal blood to try to divine the outcome. That, and
I like to pick the teams with the prettiest uniforms.
For all these reasons and more, I knew that
Kentucky would be triumphant and take it all. Even so, I was compelled to watch
the Championship Game this year (no, I don’t know why). What I found was a
mixed bag. Plenty of things I liked and disliked pummeled my senses. But it
wasn’t a complete shit show. Like I said, the uniforms were all very pretty.
Anyway, what follows is a brief but accurate survey of what this year’s NCAA
Championship Game got right, and what it got wrong.
WRONG! Ah man.
It's a ten minutes before the start of the game. We haven’t even gotten to tip
off, but the loser can already be called: it's the American people since The
Fray just raped the National Anthem. There were so many off-notes in their piss-poor
guitar noodling. I mean, just god-awful dissonant strumming. And the timing of
the melody was all off for the vocals. And what was up with their harmonizing?
They sped up, they slowed down, they seemed like they nearly forgot a bit of
the song but barely pulled it back together, then they sped up and slowed down
again. I almost crapped myself that was so bad.
RIGHT! Somehow, the
NCAA Championship Game is more popular than the NBA Championship Game. Whoa,
hey! Don’t get too pissed at me for saying that, Guy Who Actually Pays
Attention To Sports And Disagrees With Me. If anything, I’m more qualified to
lob this claim than legitimate basketball fans because I don’t like or care
about either championship game. I’m neutral and can make those judgment calls
without the bias that comes with preferring one over the other when it comes to
professional versus college ball.
No
one really cares about the NBA because all the players are spoiled egomaniacs.
And also because basketball is less entertaining than football. College
basketball is different though because the players are young, but they haven’t
been turned into greedy babies yet, so they still play hard. Either way, I love
that they NCAA gets more attention than the NBA when it comes to playoffs
exposure. They get a whole frickin month of high-profile coverage. We even get
Youtube videos of the President filling out a bracket for the tournament. That,
in itself, is a spectacle for America to watch. What the hell’s up with that?
You’re
so plucky and popular, March Madness! All I can say is “You go, girlfriend!”
Less of a spoiled baby than anyone in the NBA. Via Altblogs.
WRONG! The lack of finesse.
Part of what makes sports compelling to fat and greasy people like myself is
not only that these athletes can accomplish the physical feats they do, but
that they also look good doing it. They are supposed to be majestic and graceful
in their strength and tenacity.
Watching
college basketball is like watching seventeen year olds having sex for the
second time. Why “the second time” specifically, you ask? Because they clearly
have an idea of what they’re supposed to be doing by this point, but it’s still
all elbows and knobby knees bouncing off each other. They have some skills, a
few decent techniques, and proven plays, but it’s still awkward as hell in the
execution. And it hurts a little. Oh, and I guess you could insert some joke
here about the low scoring.
RIGHT! This thing goes
so fast. I mean, play lasted from 6:30 to 8:30 (that’s West Coast time, mother
fuckers). Even with the annoying pregame hype-o-machine program they put on,
this thing did not drag out the way many sports events do. If they can’t make
it as fun to watch as football, at least it’s not drawn out as much.
RIGHT! Regular readers
of my posts here at Robot Hooker Party (*crickets chirping*) will know that I’m
obsessed with rhetoric and breaking down communication in pop culture, and one
thing the NCAA Championship Game got right was the language. I love that
basketball players/fans/announcers have not reduced the frequency with which
they use the word “rim” or how many times they yell the phrase “going to the
hole!” Despite the prevalence of the internet and no shortage of twats making
jokes trying to prove they’re clever (uh…), basketball keeps using this
language.
Oooh yeah, that's a nice hole. With a beautiful rim. Go to it. Via cehwiedel.
You
might think that this should count as a negative because it causes knuckleheads
like me to giggle with childish immaturity, but trust me, it’s the best.
Anytime I watch basketball there’s never a shortage of homoerotic dialogue
occurring between the commentators. “Mmm, Charles Barkley, tell me more about
the rim, please, I’m begging you.” This is just like the only reason I like
NASCAR is because they talk about that driver, Dick Trickle. As long as we have
that name in that sport, I swear I don’t even care about the fiery crashes.
Wrong! The squeaky
sound! I know why this sound exists, okay. You’ve got feet and rubber coming
into contact with well-polished wood (See! This sport is so gay-sexy-pants it’s
amazing!), but whatever the cause that noise is totally not cool, guys. Isn’t
this college? Make some physics nerd fix this problem immediately. These
basketball giants need to threaten to haze every nerd they know until he/she
submits to their athletic superiority and rids the world of the squeaky sound
in this sport once and for all.
So
there you have it, NCAA National Championship Committee. You have eleven months
to solve these pressing issues and capitalize on your successes. I’m sure
you’ll read this and take every word I have to say under serious advisement.
Disclaimer: This article is
satirical and stupid. On my bracket I had the Final Four listed as Bacon,
Lettuce, Tomato, and Avocado State.
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