RANDOM THOUGHTS ABOUT “MARCH MADNESS” AND MASS INSANITY The crowning of the NCAA’s national basketball champion last night was the highlight of the annual event known as “March Madness.” The reference is to the frenzied pace in which basketball games are played, in the month of March, to determine which academic institution, in April, will be crowned as having the best basketball team, in all the land, among all the academic colleges, and academic universities, in the country. Makes sense? Only if you overlook the fact that the main focus of these colleges and universities should be on the academic preparedness of their graduates, those who, it is to be hoped, have been prepared to assume positions of leadership, in an ever changing, increasingly globalized, competitive, world. I think most would agree with me, though few basketball coaches would, that the world is not just one big basketball court. But, then again, if academic preparation was, indeed, the case, or even these academic institutions’ mission, today, do you think Harvard University, for crying out loud, would have had a good basketball team this year? The National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), which is made up of the Mafia, has clearly taken note of the fact that today’s colleges, and universities, do not edify the best, and brightest, nor do they dare do, today, what they have done in the past, which was to have their students compete in what use to be the “College Bowl,” academic competition between schools. [How many of you saw the movie, “The Great Debaters”? The movie was about colleges debating each other. They didn’t stress basketball, as a topic.] The NLRB, recognizing that colleges and universities are now sports businesses, have given the green light for college athletes to engage in collective bargaining, as employees of these institutions of “higher learning.” The National Labor Relations Board finally noticed that the Cotton Bowl, where students are expected to catch touchdown passes, has taken the place of the College Bowl, in which competing schools’ students were once asked questions about what they had learned, in their matriculation at prestigious institutions of higher learning, having traversed through the intellectual corridors of the classroom, arriving on the other side of these citadels of academic excellence, to receive that which epitomizes their growth, and validates their scholarly acumen. Now, if you don’t know what I just stated, in the above, it must mean that you have received a Bachelor of Science Degree from one of these academic institutions, recently. If you do understand what was said, in the above, because you completed your studies before these institutions of higher learning became football stadiums, and basketball coliseums, with buildings attached to them, would you please explain it to me? I am writing this narrative, you see, before I am really awake, having stayed up all night watching 10 guys run up and down the basketball court, dribbling a basketball, with nary a one looking for their books. That should give you some idea of my own level of insanity, since neither Michigan’s, nor Michigan State’s, players were playing, in the game, their basketball players having been forced to go to class after being eliminated in the final 8. I sat there, in front of my floor model television set, which I still have after all these years because I ain’t buying another one until it stops working, watching the UConn Huskies play the Kentucky Wildcats, not an Indian name to be found anywhere, due to the racial sensitivities, no doubt, of their respective administrations. Because neither team had words like the “Braves,” or “Warriors,” in their names, I had to make a choice of which team I would root for, on some other basis. I decided to cheer for UConn because, years ago, when I was driving through Kentucky, I received a ticket for speeding, which wasn’t my fault. The officer had his car hidden in a ravine, as I sped by. There was no way I could have seen that car hiding out there, that day, in broad daylight, before getting right up to where it was in hiding, beneath a steep slope, on the left side of the expressway. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy. I never got over how mad I was, at the time, because I had gone through Ohio where they look for anyone with a Michigan tag, to give them a ticket, since the officers, in the Buckeye State, take their basketball, and football, seasons along with them, in their squad cars. I know all of their hiding places, so I didn’t get a ticket, in Ohio, but did not expect the officers in Kentucky to be so sneaky. So, I was glad that my adopted team won. That is, until one of the television hosts, Jim Nance, conducted an interview of the winning coach. After hearing this man kill the King’s, and Queen’s, English, at the same time, along with that which must have been spoken, also, by some of the nobles, and their wives, I changed my mind, and rooted for Kentucky, even though they had already lost the game. In the process, I also decided to forgive that officer, after all these years; so, in the end, my team lost, after my team won, kind of a John Kerry thing. During the interview, the bewildered Jim Nance asked the winning coach, to assess the team’s accomplishment (on the basketball court, mind you, not the classroom, otherwise there would have been no interview). The coach answered, and I quote: “I said in the beginning, 18 months ago, when we started this process, that the last is gonna be the first and now we was last, now we first but we always did it together. They won it as a group and it was great, my coaching staff, my players….” While grimacing, Jim Nance then turned to one of the star players for his comments, with the same results, more unscripted psychobabble. In a moment of desperation, and utter despair, Nance put the microphone in front of the mouth of the tournament’s most valuable player. He asked for the attention of all the people in the gym. It was not a classroom. I repeat, it was not a classroom. The star player asked for absolute quiet before he spoke. I sat up, on the edge of my seat, on the couch, where I had been a planted potato for three (3) hours, in the family room, but now expecting a miracle, someone who had heard of, like, verbs, and the eight parts of speech. I didn’t get it; not only did I not get the miracle, but I didn’t get why this basketball player wanted everybody to be quiet, since it was the audience’s quiet that allowed us to hear what he said. I couldn’t help noticing that it was the first series of interviews I have ever seen the usually talkative Jim Nance do, where he didn’t ask a single follow-up question. That was one of the highlights, after the game, if you ask me. “March Madness” ends each year, in the month of March. Apparently, April is the month set aside, each year, for mass insanity.
Posted on: Tue, 08 Apr 2014 16:29:35 +0000
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