Now that my brackets are so much smoldering wreckage, and now that my teams are out, it is time for a big dose of what the original purpose of this blog was: a profanity-filled triade about shit I don’t like. And since I can’t like this tournament anymore…
Know what a “VCU” is? Fifteen years ago, it was that machine my post-stroke grandmother thought played movies, but instead constantly blinked “12:00,” as if it were mocking her inability to drool out “VCR.”Worse yet, if you make the mistake of asking anybody at VCU what that acronym actually means, you will get a 25-minute lecture on how the “C” stands for “Commonwealth,” because Virginia is technically a “commonwealth” and not a “state.” Of course, the people who say that are simply trying to pretend they don’t go a state school that by law has to admit every resident mouth-breather who can drop a Skoal-loogie on the correct spot on the application.
Here’s a fun, yet useless fact I’ve been hearing all week: there are as many schools from Richmond, VA in the tournament as there are from the whole Big East (2). Here’s a more accurate statement. There are as many teams from Richmond that anybody gives a shit about as there are from the whole Big East (0).
Besides, how can anybody have any respect for a team whose mascot John Goodman knew how to eliminate 20 years ago?
Thanks to the movie “Hoosiers,” Larry Fucking Bird, and now you assholes, everybody thinks any little piss-ant school from Indiana means something when it comes to basketball. Let’s do a rundown of the D-I basketball schools from Hoosierland and you tell me which ones matter.
- Butler – A private, liberal arts college which is best-known for its dance program. This means there are two types of Butler students: meth heads whose daddies have too much money for Indiana State, and Daddy’s Little Fruitcup who will spend four years auditioning for “So You Think You Can Dance?”
- Indiana – The school that brought you both the burly, masculine assholery of Bobby Knight and the sheer once-a-month-crampy bitchiness of Myles Brand. Once a proud program, but hasn’t been relevant in nearly a decade.
- Purdue – Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the moon, was a Purdue alum. This shows how far people will go to get the fuck out of West Lafayette.
- Notre Dame – A great school with a great tradition, especially if you want to be gang-raped by drunken football players or sent careening to your death off a 70-foot scissor lift. If you happen to get gang-raped while falling off a scissor-lift, you will be honored by having your name etched on one of the mosaic tiles that forms “Touchdown Jesus'” ball-sack.
- Indiana State – Located in beautiful Terre Haute, ISU competes for local talent along with two prisons and a mental institution. This is precisely why if you want to major in schizophrenia, meth production, or pumping out bastard children, ISU is for you.
- Ball State – Too easy…Insert your own joke here. Better make sure those jokes are funny, because this
walk-in VD clinicschool has produced such comedy titans as Jim Davis, Joyce DeWitt, and David Letterman (who was funny once, but not since the Civil War).
- Evansville – Another small liberal arts college; this one is known for its physical therapy and theatre departments. So, when the therapist who is helpinbg you after your stroke insists on putting his thumb in your ass, chances are he went to Evansville.
- Valparaiso – Not even people who live in Valparaiso can tell you where the hell the campus is, and they sure as hell can’t tell you why it even exists.
Can somebody explain to me why people in this town think women’s basketball is such a great thing? Between these assholes and those shit-eating, inbred, hillbillies in Knoxville who think Pat Summitt is actually a woman, they have convinced a disturbingly large enough segment of the sports-watching population that womens’ basketball ISN’T a bunch of six-and-a-half foot tall lesbians who can’t play basketball while looking like a boys’ high-school team somebody cut the nuts off of five years ago.
Do you know why Wisconsin is home to so many great serial killers? Because somehow Wisconsinites have taken two great things like sports and booze and managed to completely fuck them up. As far as the University of Wisconsin is concerned, the sport they really are the best at is hockey, which is why they play every other sport like the are on the ice. Badger football is like an old-school NHL game; they get a big offensive line and just beat you into the boards for sixty minutes, Bucky hoop is like watching that adapted version of floor hockey they let the retarded kids play; lots of passes so bad they look like shots, and shots so bad they look like passes. Even the girls teams only change their pads every three periods.
Worse yet is their coach, Bo Ryan. Now that Bruce Pearl is toast at Tennessee, Ryan is the only guy left who makes it a point to color coordinate his blazers in some awful school color. This is a fact only made worse by his extreme resemblance to a modern-art nightmare.
You know what the worst part of this college basketball season was? It wasn’t the fact that somehow you turned some nearly-albino virgin kid into the biggest white-guy basketball sensation outside of Duke. It was the fact that I had to defend your silly-ass honor code. I don’t have a beef with your having an honor code. I don’t even have a beef with you kicking that kid off the team over violating it. He knew the drill when he signed up, nobody put a gun to his head when he made the commitment to follow it, and nobody forced him to stick his dick in his girlfriend and screw his teammates by breaking the commitment he voluntarily made.
But what pisses me off to no end is the fact that you as a university made it a point to run out in front of the press and shout this story from the mountain top. You didn’t have to tell the whole world the story; there’s some real honor in keeping “family business” inside the family. Instead, you decided you needed to show the whole world how honorable you are through humiliating this kid needlessly by putting his business in the street, and for that I offer you my heartiest of FUCK YOUs.
This place ought to be renamed The University of Gutless. Marquette’s basketball team used to be known as the Warriors, until every member of their board of trustees grew multiple vaginas and decided AGAINST the will of the student body and the alumni that the nickname was “insensitive to Native Americans.” Of course, this completely ignores the fact that a “warrior” is defined as a person experienced in or capable of engaging in combat or warfare, especially within the context of a tribal or clan-based society that recognizes a separate combatant class. There’s a whole range of cultures to which that applies, ranging from the Bushido Samurai to the Spartans. Yet, the pointy-heads at Marquette decided it could only apply to those who when they cash their government checks get blind-drunk on the “firewater,” then build casinos.
This begs another important question. Since when does the Catholic Church give a flying fuck about political correctness? Don’t forget that Marquette is a Jesuit school, and the Jesuits aren’t just garden-variety papists; they are the Waffen-SS of Catholicism. They can show up in any diocese and do whatever the fuck they want, and the local bishop can’t say shit to them. In other words, these aren’t exactly the guys who cower at a bunch of soccer moms who think “we might be being mean to the Indians.”
If that weren’t enough, the Catholic Church as a whole isn’t exactly the “canary in the coal mine” when it comes to being sensitive to public opinion. In fact, their only recent change on the position of contraception is it is acceptable to use a condom only when the altar boy has diarrhea.
You should be fucking embarrassed that a low-rent school like this represents your sorry-ass conference. With all the blather you spew about what “hallowed” basketball institutions other members like Duke and North Carolina are, you have the unmitigated gall to subject us to the likes of the Seminoles. What can you say about Florida State that can’t be summed up in the phrase “FSU: The strip mall of universities.”
If it weren’t for Florida State, Florida would be the Sunshine State’s’ supposedly “academic” collection Kool-Aid and cheap vodka drinkers, jean-short wearers, and hillbilly rapists. If you’ve ever been to UF, then you know exactly what the statement “It took Tallahassee to make Gainesville look good” means.
I used to have nothing good to say about Kansas until I read that one of their state legislators actually proposed controlling the illegal immigrant population in the same manner they use for feral hogs; picking them off with rifles from helicopters. Once you get past the monstrous racism in that comment, you are struck with the realization that even its crushing stupidity, this represents a “man landing on the moon” advance in Kansan-type thinking. The only thing that is funnier is the people who think this guy gives Kansans a bad name; like they didn’t already have one.
Oh, and I’m pretty sure Bill Self molests collies.
Even though he was a football guy, nobody was a more loyal Buckeye than Kirk Herbstreit, and even he was giving double-birds out the window on his way out the the shit-hole formerly known as Columbus. In other words, even he had to split town because he only fellated the statue of Woody Hayes once a day rather than the expected thrice. This is exactly the problem with Buckeye fans; they have so little else that unless you swear your undying devotion and back it up on an hourly basis, they declare you a heretic and kill your house pets. In all honesty, the best description I’ve ever read about Ohio came from the good people at Deadspin:
“We make fun of Ohio here at Deadspin an awful lot, and with good reason. If you placed an electrified cupcake in the center of the state, half the population would be dead by morning. And the other half would be asking for extra sprinkles.”
What else can you say? These are the people who expect perfection while investing only idiocy; the kind of people who try to “return” foster children after they’ve raped them. Buckeye fans belong in that same circle of hell reserved for pederasts, people who run scams on the elderly, and deadbeat fathers.
Kentucky tears me. On the one hand, I believe Kentucky bourbon is the definition of “manna from heaven;” single drinking-handedly I’m probably 40% of the economy of the Bluegrass State. If you ever see me on one of those “Intervention” shows, dump your stock in Jim Beam. Don’t wait to call your stock broker in the morning, break into his house that night and get your money the fuck out NOW. But on the other hand, when it comes to basketball, these people still revere that racist asshole Adolph Rupp. They ran Tubby Smith out of town for no real reason, and brought in a snail-trail-leaver like John Calipari. The person who roots for Kentucky basketball also likely roots for the New York Yankees, the bad guys from the “Karate Kid,” and Moammar Khadafy.
Once again, I will quote the good people at Deadspin since I can’t improve on the accuracy of their assesment.
No school has benefited more from having an archrival who happens to be even more haughty and douchetastic. I’m onto you, Tarheels. You think just because you hate Duke that you can sneak by without anyone hating your fucking guts. But you are WRONG. But the truth is that, if Duke didn’t exist, YOU would be Duke. You’d be the most hated program in the country, what with your gross sense of entitlement and Dickie V lapping up Roy Williams’ seminal fluid like it’s cereal milk. You people owe Duke a steak dinner for covering up so much of what makes you despicable.
FACT: Every three seconds, a person in the North Carolina wilderness is being raped. I drove through the state once, and you see the forests on the side of the road and you just know, twenty feet in, someone has a penis inside them that they don’t want inside them. North Carolina is also the only state where it’s legal to rape someone and fish at the same time.
At once, I agree with the above statement about North Carolina and yet need to infuse it with my own hatred of Duke. Oh, Duke, how do I hate thee; let me count the ways. Here’s two good ones.
- Mike Krzyzewski himself. I get that he is a disciple of Bobby Knight, but there is a major difference. It is one thing to be an asshole; it is an entirely other thing to spend thirty years hiding you are an asshole.
- Duke pretends it is a great place to send your sheltered, privileged kids all while it is located in an exceptionally dangerous neighborhood.
San Diego State:
San Diego is a wonderful town, but there are two things about it you cant trust: mid-westerners who move to southern California thinking it is a panacea, and any of its sports teams. The common problem is the beach…there is no such thing as a town that has both a fierce sporting tradition and a desirable beach. The only exceptions are the Miami Dolphins of the early 70’s and the Los Angeles Lakers of forever, both of whom are/were supported largely by transplants from other locales who are old enough to where beaches just present a source of irritating sand in various artificial joints and/or ostomy ports.
As far as the midwesterners who make the “fantasy” move, I have far too many examples in my personal life from which to make examples, but all of them sound pretty much the same. The problem is that almost all of them will bitch if they think I’m talking about them, when in reality I don’t give a frog’s watertight ass about them, other than their stories are at the same time predictable and hilarious. These are almost like those “novels” you read as a kid that allowed you to pick your own ending, the trouble the story is fucked up to begin with. For example:
- Boy meets girl in (insert midwestern state here)
- Boy and girl decide for what ever reason to move to SoCal
- The plan works for one and not the other
- If the plan works for the boy, skip to page 32
- If the plan works for the girl, skip to page 48
Boy somehow becomes successful and realizes he has an opportunity to trade up from midwestern girlfriend. He does so, and midwestern girlfriend goes back to (insert midwestern state here), gets some job that pays by the hour and eats her way into a subscription from the Lane Bryant catalog.
Girl falls into a pattern that starts with “look at how cool I am because I live in California” and ends with “I will out spend anybody to maintain my ‘look at how cool I am’ mindset.” Despite what she earns, she outspends it several-fold, until the boyfriend says ‘no mas’ and pulls the rip-cord. He heads back to (insert midwestern state here), while she now invests in a string of “relationships” all of which are designed to continue the life-style choices she has made.
None of these douche-hammers give a shit about sports, which is why San Diego gets no fans for anything.