Dammit. I was looking forward to riding Adam Morrison’s mustache all the way to the Promised Land, a national championship, and a gambling payout large enough for some Bang & Olufsen speakers. But since Gonzaga choked harder than the Yankees with a three game lead (well, almost), I’m left with nothing. Literally. They’ve taken all my stuff. Repossessed my car. I’d go into more specifics, but it’s hard to type with only six fingers.
After an excruciatingly long afternoon at the Ithaca sperm bank, I’ve scraped together enough money to make one last play at glory (and one last chance to escape March Madness with the use of my legs). I’m putting it all on UCLA. They beat my Zags, so why not?
Well, the other three columns running today will tell you exactly that. Olivia Dwyer, our beloved new sports editor, has probably written some fantastic in-depth analysis, complete with shot-selection charts and a treatise on how Florida’s defensive rotation rivals that of Israeli Army. And this is to be expected – college basketball is the only sport she understands. During March Madness, she’s freaking Einstein. Otherwise, she’s that annoying girl who walks into the room during the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl and asks how many innings are left.
But maybe I’m being harsh. I mean, she’s no worse than her predecessor, the immortal Chris Mascaro. He’s picked George Mason. I’m pretty high on the Patriots, if only because I’ve waited my entire life to root for a guy named Tony Skinn. But a vote of confidence from The Beef is the kiss of death. Not only did he utterly destroy the credibility of the Sun Sports section during his tenure as editor, but he’s still under the impression that Alex Rodriguez is a clutch hitter. But I’m not going to make the easy jokes about his almost unnatural lack of height and proclivity for Asian erotica. You know why? Because I’m bigger than that.
Speaking of Asian erotica, Brian Tsao has thrown the considerable weight of his sterling journalistic reputation behind LSU. Naturally, Brian was drawn to the raw athleticism of LSU’s frontcourt combo of Tyrus Thomas and Glen “Big Baby” Davis. And who wouldn’t be? These two athletic freaks will give UCLA’s Cedric Bozeman all he can handle in the semifinal game, and if for some reason the Bruins lose (in which case I’ll be taking a short ride in a black Mercedes) it will be because of their dominance in the paint and above the rim. But this is just Brian’s latest attempt to compensate for his own physical inadequacies by rubbing shoulders with athletic giants. Every athlete on campus knows Brian Tsao – he’s essentially a groupie at this point. When he’s not breathing heavily though the phone to Travis Lee at 3:30 a.m., he’s giving awkward high-fives to football players at The Palms. It’s getting out of hand. At this point, he’s practically Phillip Seymour Hoffman from Boogie Nights.
So there you have it. You can’t in good conscience root for the same teams as those three hacks, so you might as well root for UCLA and help me preserve my kneecaps. I’m told that coach Ben Howland has the Bruins playing lock-down defense, allowing them to control the tempo of games. That sounds like a good thing. And Jordan Farmar has great hair. That clinches it for me. I feel confident about this. Everything’s going to be okay.
But should the unthinkable occur and I’m discovered missing on Tuesday morning, please speak well of me.
Per Ostman is a Sun Senior Writer. The Victory Lap will appear every other Wednesday this semester.
Archived article by Per Ostman