By Tony Samson
IF YOU have no idea what the phrase “Season 82” stands for, you can skip this piece and move to another page for more salubrious topics like the gender wars, the senator’s next boxing match, and the recounting of votes for an election held 42 months ago. It’s the final four of college men’s basketball. No additional details are needed.
I will try to be neutral on this commentary and will not reveal the school that I’m rooting for. Still, just so there are no false attributions or motives ascribed to this corner, let it be known that all my shirts are blue, which is just a personal affinity for shades of azure, cobalt, and cyan; none at all for verdigris or moss, which are not anyway colors identified with outerwear.
Here are some things to expect in the coming games and the madness of crowds these engender. The post-season contest may extend up to six or seven games depending on how the cards fall among four teams.
Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday afternoons in the coming two weeks will be blocked off by otherwise rational hardworking corporate types as well as doctors (please do not schedule hysterectomies on these days) and lawyers. Meetings will be moved for unexplained reasons. Trips are postponed.
Sports commentators will analyze game strategies and which players to watch out for. Some handwringing angst-ridden writing with an uncontrolled spasm of exclamation points will pop up on social media and some school online pages after one team in the running is eliminated — they’re still peaking but just ran out of runways.
Long-lost friends will come out of nowhere looking for tickets, usually cadging free ones — it’s such a small amount. Do I need to write you a check? These are supporters seldom seen at the games anyway.
For a particular game, the eating places near the venue are clogged two hours before the warm-up of the players. Patrons will be color coded. This early bird syndrome is explained to the uncomprehending as: a 1.) need to find a parking space; 2.) meet up with other ticket holders to discuss the chances of the team; and 3.) have a second lunch after the one eaten at home.
Of the seven games that will complete the season and declare the champion, at least two will be extended to one overtime and three won by less than three points, or one possession. This will engender complaints of biased officiating, against the loser of course.
Personally, I like boring games with precision passing, looking for the open man, taking of high-percentage shots, rebounding and making put-backstage for second-chance points, and then back to the other end for a swarming defense, a block, and forcing a turnover. It’s really cookie-cutter stuff.
We’re not looking for isolated plays and highlight-reel showboating, like a dunk followed by a snarl at the unsuccessful guard by a player from a losing team. After all, watching a game should be like going to the theater. The audience should have an inkling of how it ends. It’s only the performance of the actors and the enthusiasm of the crowd roused to a standing ovation that defines the game.
The singing of the school song, preferably the first one up, caps the day. Then it’s time to go home, maybe pass the Gesu (oops) and wait for the announcement when the T-shirts will be available and watch out for the replay.
Of course the madness doesn’t really end. It’s not supposed to.
Tony Samson is Chairman and CEO, TOUCH xda.
