I’m an old sports writer. That is, I was a newspaper sports writer a long, long time ago. It was fun! I was a young man, and I actually enjoyed it for exactly one year. Then, the seasons began to repeat, and I found myself asking a new cast of teenage athletes the same old questions. Just like that, it wasn’t fun anymore. Soon began an equally brief career in public relations. That wasn’t fun, either, but at least everyone with whom I had to interact was fully clothed. Now, what brought that up? Oh, yeah! I turned on the NCAA men’s basketball championship game last night and watched a bit. It looked like it was going to be a stem-winder between powerhouse North Carolina and underdog Gonzaga, but I’d gotten up early Monday morning, and I went to sleep. I woke up today to the unsurprising news North Carolina had won. However, it seemed half the accounts were about Gonzaga’s disappointment or Gonzaga’s frustration or Gonzaga’s failure to win or (I didn’t see this word actually used, but it was liberally implied.) Gonzaga’s shame. I know how it is to try and make the outcome of yet another athletic contest interesting when it all boils town to one team scoring more than the other, but it’s gotten out of hand. Sure the young men of Gonzaga feel badly, but now the story of Gonzaga basketball becomes one of a struggle for redemption. At the risk of zagging off on a tangent, I can’t resist closing by saying, as an alumni of Auburn University and therefore a titular fan of our basketball program, LMAO!

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