Redemption on the Lost Saturday

This is a continuation of "...And We're Back!"


If you are any kind of a fan of the greatest annual sporting event in America then you must have enjoyed this past Saturday. I spent half of the in transit from Denver to DC and even that personal hell could not diminish the magic of the NCAA Tournament's opening weekend.

As I mentioned earlier, things all started with the interstate battle between the powerhouse of Ohio State and the scrappy Jesuits from Xavier. When I had to vacate the airport bar to wade through sunburned masses in the security line the game didn't seem like anything special. I was immediately worried that the second round might be as uneventful as the first--I was wrong.

By the time I deplaned the rest of you had been treated to the first real drama of March; overtime is a beautiful thing. The game wasn't pretty (watching Ohio State is like watching whoever is left in Serie A) but it got the job done. It was as if all the tournament needed was a little bit of crappy free throw shooting and one big shot.

Once I was safely in the terminal it was a dead sprint to the nearest television. As soon as I caught the scores we were in the midst of more drama than I'd seen since my last middle school dance (six weeks ago...I'm getting help). First it was Butler answering my prayers by kicking Gary Williams' sweaty ass out of the tournament. I like to imagine him licking his wounds over his usual chicken wings and ketamine. Then it was my man Acie Law IV who stepped up and drove that schmuck Rick Pitino out of Lexington once and for all.

My car ride home was dominated by the local broadcast (as well it should be). As soon as the station came on I knew I was missing even more greatness, at this point I saw no reason to abide by the posted speed limits. Things were getting serious. I was thrilled to hear the cheers after Jeff Green's putback dunk sent shockwaves through the crowd. The screams were so loud I was sure Al Skinner's teeth had created a mass panic. As you know by now Georgetown flashed their dominance and put the Eagles down for good.

I parked the car illegally (how can they give you two tickets for the same infraction?), dodged all of the drunken Georgetown fans/Irish revelers, and ran into my apartment. The Georgetown game was over and it was finally time to watch my Pitt Panthers.

But what's all this then? Vandy and Wazzu are still playing?

If it wasn't such an amazing game I would have been seriously pissed. Derrick Byars' block at the end of regulation was the most crucial defensive play I've seen since Hakim Warrick's blocked shot that finalized Syracuse's title. Two overtimes later and I could happily say that I'd seen the culmination of the best game of the tournament.

That feeling lasted about a quarter of a second. Because the next thing I knew Pitt's Levance Fields was at the line in a tie game with 2.1 seconds to play. In all the excitement I hadn't noticed that Virginia Commonwealth had eaten away at Pitt's seemingly invincible lead. Nineteen points! What the fuck just happened!?! I sat breathlessly on the couch. Even though our point guard was at the line I was too jittery to smoke a bowl. I really could have used that bowl. First shot: clank. Second shot same as the first. I immediately channeled my childhood hero and let out a "You cannot be serious!" that would have started Johnny Mac himself.

By the time Pitt wrapped things up in overtime I was no longer interested in drama, I was just trying to not pass out. Fields followed up his free throw debacle with a huge three the open up the extra frame which was immediately followed by an emphatic pounding of the chest. Straight up Brooklyn and I wouldn't have it any other way.

After the most boring first round in my lifetime Saturday hit me like a Jesse Spano size hit of speed. The magic was back.