The Final Four games will tip off in minutes, and BitterSweetLife has just received a surprising NCAA-related accolade.
In response to this post about being an underblog, Belinda of Ninja Poodles commented: You are totally the George Mason University of the Blogosphere's NCAA Tourney.
Incredible. Seldom has BitterSweetLife received a compliment of this caliber. Never mind that in time past, Belinda has been an NCAA-dissin’ rebel paid by Lindsay to post dissenting comments. All that’s forgiven now. I'm just wondering where she picked up the new eye for hoops.
Anyway, BitterSweetLife is ready to run with the George Mason comparison. This blog is all about tenacity, no-look passes, and moves with nice English. BitterSweetLife enjoys surprising its critics and cherishes its Indie-blog status. The parallels are everywhere. Now I can only hope George Mason manages to win…
Saturday, April 01, 2006
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5 comments:
Hey, you're talking about the child of a basketball coach, here. My dad was not only the most righteous, kind, generous, loving, and gentle man you'd ever want to meet, he was the hoops-master. He played for the Razorbacks in the late 50's, and indeed was a starting forward in '58, the first year the Hogs ever won the SWC Championship. He wore that ring until the letters were literally worn off of the sides.
Dad appreciated teamwork, fundamentals, and a thinking game. He was disappointed by showboating, hot-dogging, and play that was overly physical to compensate for lack of fundamental skills.
And for the record, Lindsay has never paid me anything (tell her she owes me).
And no, GMU didn't prevail tonight, but I did appreciate their coach's post-game words. Nicely done by him.
The up-side, for us, of Florida's win, was that there will now be an SEC team in the final. We hoped for a bit that LSU might be able to hold it together against UCLA and make it an all-SEC final, but no dice. Oh, well. We'll be pulling strong for FL Monday night, if for no other reason than indignation at how soundly the SEC was dissed by the entire sports media machine in the days before the tournament. Bah. Respect our authori-TIE!
Wow, impressive pedigree. I'm not sure I've ever misjudged a reader more thoroughly in terms of hoops-quotient. From now on I'll have to give extra weight to your smack talk.
Not that my mistake was totally unjustified. I think it was the post you wrote about looking in confusion at the bracket your husband handed you...then penciling in Gonzaga as the champion. Gonzaga?
C'mon, everyone knew they would lose in the Elite Eight.
It was the overwhelming ENTIRETY of the bracket. He wanted me to fill out THE WHOLE THING, and he was SERIOUS!! Give me the Elite Eight and let me go from there, at least. But all 64?? Nah. And his bracket was busted at the Duke loss, anyway.
And I still like to say Gonzaga. GonZAGa.
Hey, did you recently get busted down to "Slithering Reptile" in a TTLB re-shuffle? I did. Very disheartening. I was just beginning to enjoy my flappy feathers, and WHAM. Evolutionary regression. There's a lesson in there somewhere, if only I weren't too lazy (and late for work) to extract it. Run with it, Ariel. I need my pithy observation on life-turned observation on faith. Go.
(Also? My MOM could totally take you at one-on-one, if you agreed to no fouling. I mean, she's 60 years old and 5'4", but if nothing else, she can HORSE you into the ground.)
And my dad would have savored the Florida win over UCLA. He had been disillusioned with UCLA since the John Wooden days...he love him some John Wooden. Come to think of it, he might have appreciated *this* UCLA team a little. But he'd have still totally rooted for FL.
I miss him like breathing.
Belinda, a hoops aficiando like you is supposed to take great joy in filling out the entire bracket. And not just scribbling in teams with whacked names, but agonizing over each and every pick.
I'm embarassed for you that you let your real approach to the bracket slip out.
Yeah, when the TTLB freako-system reshuffled, this blog got busted down. I was just beginning to enjoy my status as a gerbil or guinea pig or something, when WHAM. Back to coldblooded-ness. The moral of all this?
Let blogs that think they stand take heed lest they crawl.
Your mom must be quite a gamer. I don't foul much, but I still would favor myself for the win. Traditionally, my jump shot gives 5'4" women fits.
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