Predilictions... nah, just predictions.

East:
UNC
Indiana
Notre Dame
Washington State
St. Joe's
Louisville
Butler
Tennessee

MIDWEST:
Kansas
Kent State
Clemson
Vandy
USC
Wisconsin
Davidson
Georgetown

SOUTH:
Memphis
Oregon
Michigan State
Pitt
Marquette
Stanford
Miami
Texas

WEST:
UCLA
Texas A&M
Western Kentucky
SanDiego
Purdue
Xavier
West Virginia
Duke

Final Four: UNC, Georgetown, Texas, UCLA
Wins it all: Georgetown

YOU HEARD ME. My upsets are minimal this year, but there's some good ones.

Your thoughts?

Forever Blowing (and Stroking and Kneading and Rubbing) Bubbles

Mount St. Mary's did us all a favor last night, beating Coppin State 69-60 in the NCAA Tournament play-in game and sparing us, for at least one whole day, of the MSM going all "Coppin State is the worst team to ever get into the field of 64" and whatnot.

The thing is, they should be in.

This argument has probably been made elsewhere, but why aren't the final two at-large teams selected forced to "play" their way into the tournament? Here's some reasons why they should.

1. We all know that a #16 has never beaten a #1, and probably never will. Sure. Got it. But if you take the last two at-large teams and have the winner play the supposed "weakest" #1, well, now you've got some spice. And don't sell me that "you should be rewarded for being a #1 seed" shit. If you're a true national title contender, you should also be able to beat the sixth-best team in the ACC, eat their lunch, and make-out with their hot sister.

2. Why have the rule that conference tourney winners get an "automatic" bid if it's really not "automatic"? I used to have an "automatic" can opener that required you to put the can in at just the right angle, and then you had to press down on the top the entire time it opened the can. Guess what? I threw that "automatic" can opener out because it was a piece of fucking shit, then bought a "hand-held" one that works just as well and doesn't challenge my limited spatial skills.

3. Some people seem to think that the play-in game gives the "little guys" some national exposure. Let me squelch that one for you: NOBODY WATCHES THIS GAME. We all just wait for the highlights after the game or the next day and say shit like "Oh, looks like Lower Peninsula School for the NorthwestSoutheast IUPUI-OU812 St. won and is gonna get their fucking asses handed to them by [insert large school with astronomical athletic budget here]. Cool." But if you've got Arizona State playing Virginia Tech? People tune in.

4. I don't care how bad your team was during the year, if you muster up the balls to win three or four pressure-packed games in a row, you deserve to see your team's name - no matter how long or obscure or initial-ridden - on the bracket. None of this "Play-in game winner" shit.

5. Along the same lines, those first two days are magical. Who cares if you're relegated to the 10:50 a.m. tip-off on Thursday, and you're going to get crushed like white ass at an NBA party? Just being a part of that, and getting a few extra days off of classes, is key.

6. The play-in game participants played their conference tournament final in a gym that seats 8,000 and was 85% full. The game was broadcast on a regional network, whose satellite truck had fishing gear in the back of it. The graphics looked like something NBC shit out in the 70s. Villanova, however, played their conference first-round game at Madison Square Garden and had it broadcast on ESPN - sponsored by Aeropostale! Do you know who sponsored the SWAC tournament? Winston Pfeffer of Tupelo, Mississippi. Twenty bucks.

7. Instead of getting screwed over, some lucky mid-major (Butler, anyone?) may actually get the seed they deserve.

8. Aside from a few exceptions (Villanova as an 8 in '85, Kansas as a 6 in '88), bubble teams don't win shit. Sorry, Arizona. Good luck with that pissy weather and all those ugly bitches.

9. Even if it's just a clip of your center getting posterized, every conference champ should be a part of "One Shining Moment." Or have a game called by Gus Johnson. They're almost equal.

10. "But they seed them according to who's the best team, and a middling team from a major conference is better and has better talent than the best team from a small conference." Fuck you. And fuck you, too, NCAA. Really, that's the best one.

The Way It Is.

Being forced to watch Sportscenter when you don't want to should be a crime. I can catch up with all the scores and highlights without being subjected to the not-so-subtle name drops and product placements. In fact, as of late, I've taken to the soothing sounds of NBA.com for all my needs. Having watched tonight, though, I stumbled upon the fantastic revelation that ESPN's mind-control cannot subvert the regionalism of sports.

Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

I was raised on the beauty of College Basketball, and converted to loving the NBA. Whither goest Tobacco Road's underdog darlings (the often forlorn and forgotten North Carolina State), goest my family. I often, while not really paying attention, get text messages or calls in disappointment without knowing a score or being worried about the "big game."

In fact, most of my friends pledge allegiance to the UNC or Duke flags. Of the three people I know that actually attended the college, precisely none of them knows dick about basketball. Only one of them feigns caring about the team, but not all that often. Her husband and share the allegiance of Wolpackery.

So, then, why are colleges than none of attended so important? It's a confluence of ideas: regionalism playing a huge part-- the Panthers and Hurricanes are the only real alternatives, and even then they have no natural rivals. Though, I've recently become unenraptured (not a word, I know) by the sport of children, though I still watch when possible and lament the failures of young athletes with my father and sister when necessary. I can still tell you why N.C. State is not a good team despite even more distance (mental and physical) than ever before as an NYC resident.

It's a part of the North Carolina tradition. Bitching about sports is universal, and this predates the enfranchisment of our Stanley Cup and one lost Super Bowl chance. To hammer the point home even more, you'll see more San Diego Chargers jerseys in Raleigh, North CArolina than you might see Panthers jerseys on certain Satuurday afternoons. I'll give you three guesses why.

It was not so odd then, that despite heavy hinting, an entire highlight reel and the audacity of the co-anchors revelling in the glory that is the Big East that the ACC Tournament topped their poll of "Which major conference tournament are you most looking forward to?" No matter how exciting the Big East is-- their cavalcade of teams, ESPN backing and massive advantage as far as talent goes this year amongst the ranks, the ACC will beat them in ratings and hold the intrigue of a region.

I'd go so far as to say the Yankees spring wins and Josh Beckett's strained back muscle might hold more weight right nw than the fate of the 'Cuse. The imaginations of the Mets fans and the fresh indignance on the faces of Yankee lovers are more prevalent than the Georgetown bashers or Providence haters. Several hours south, however, country-club members and dishwashers alike are still fuming over the Carolina-Duke game from days ago. People still lament the addition of Miami and Boston College-- even Florida State (the assholes that started the defections)-- for muddling what was a great tournment.

Nice try, ESPN. You got a ways to go before the Big East's relevance surpasses the rallying cry of the South's most prominent sports strongholds.

BoL Went to See RZA, and All You Get Is a Lousy Blog Post about Chicago

I saw RZA the other night and I gotta tell you, I don't remember much. Three or four white-boy indie bands into the show, I was full of so much booze, weed and cocaine I could have written a Robin Williams routine. What I do remember, I remember well. He shouted out the Gravediggers and did one of his guest spots off one of their seminal albums. He, of course, poured out some of his red wine-- that's right he was swigging a bottle of wine on stage-- for ODB. He called out wack hip-hop and called for us to uplift the best that underground music had to offer (fat chance, dude). Then, after about 30-40 minutes, he walked off stage and let his crew freestyle for a long time. I have no idea which Sunz of Man were on stage, I was urinating against a wall at the time.

I likened it, the next day, to watching your favorite team in the dregs of a lost season. RZA has no reason to do this anymore, he is just performing for the thrills of the crowd, albeit smaller and smaller as Wu-Tang becomes less and less viable. Little did I know that the Bulls and Celtics would remind me of this scenario not two weeks later.

I'm in the middle of a great period for my sports teams. I take it as seriously as I should. I won't bullshit here-- I have two middling jobs with no shot at advancement, I'm alone, I'm in the middle of a long-term writer's block and I am in personal crisis regarding my place in life's veritable food chain. The fact that the Celtics, Red Sox and Redskins all are playoff to championship caliber teams gives me stasis, in a non-life improving sense. I admit it.

Having said this, times are tough in Chicago. Rex Grossman turned into Rex Grossman, and the Bulls conglomeration of talent, well, lots its zeal after failed deals involving Luol Deng. Some blame the failure to spin championships on ownership tightness, or failure to pull the trigger on "the big deal," but I see Chicago as a Wu-Tang scenario. Right now, the glory days are still within reach. In fact, the shadow of a team considered one of the best in football history ('85), one of the greatest dynasties in history (6 titles? Damn.) and the highest pinnacle of athletic talent realized in universal thought (Wennington, obviously) (no wait, it's Jordan). I know time has elapsed, but mindsets are still affected. The Rex Grossman/Luol Deng (the latter of which I will focus on) conundrums prove this.

First of all, in case you don't know, The Bears resigned Rex Grossman for another year. Also, the Lakers benefited infinitely, very recently, from comments involving Deng's untouchable nature. Grossman's incompetence is overshadowed by his arm and Deng's inability to handle the ball or score with consistency against bigger players (see the Celtics game tonight for proof). In a city where potential has actually blossomed, where championships were won on the shoulders of giants, it's hard to lose potential; harder still to leave behind the idea of a homemade perfection.

This is not to say that Jordan still looms on the fans' mind. More than once this evening, a Bulls-fan friend of mine was lamenting the idea of untouchable. "Why is this guy untouchable? He can't handle the ball, even." Somewhere inside him, however, there was the hope that he was just in a sophomore slump and that he could develop his ceiling, etc. Somewhere, the man looked for the hope that the team could evolve around the kids-- the drafted products would peak together and become a force. He found no hope.

It comes hard, the realization that the Al Jeffersons and Ryan Gomes's of the world are cultivated and hyped and then sold for the mercenaries. Sometimes you get the wounded warriors-- Iversons or Garnetts-- and everything is fine. Other times, you get the greats on their way out-- the Waltons or Chamberlains (Shaqs). In any of the cases, the dream of a homemade product is rarely a viable option. For every superstar drafted, there are three poking around in bad systems or held in check by megalomaniac front offices/coaching staffs. For every Jordan falling in love with Chicago or Bird being the heart of Boston, there's an Allen Iverson tired of losing or a Garnett ready to win. A young team must capitalize and move on.

Standing and watching RZA go through the motions of his Bobby Digital regime was fun in it's way. The hope of a young team finding its step is fun too. Having seen the past RZA and Wu's heyday as a young man made me want to believe that RZA had it still-- that he was still as viable as his outdated lyrics and outmoded beats from the mid-90s. Having seen the glory days of the product growing up, or being a part of it makes it impossible not to see the perfection in the youth movement or the foundations of a championship. Perfection is rare. Jordan and Welcome to the 36 Chambers are rare versions of perfectly realized potential and the quicker one lets go of those, the quicker the team or the performance becomes what it is: another in the decay of perfection.

(Note, look closely at the picture, and my roommate is being crucified under a banner with my nickname on it. Thanks to Paul for making that. Seriously, he's the funniest motherfucker on the planet.)

George Karl's Lawyer Is A Functional Illiterate, Possibly A 13-year-old Girl

As many of you have probably heard, a cartoonist by the name of Andrew Feinstein recently started up a little blog called FireGeorgeKarl.com. And oh, what a sensation it's become.

George Karl's lawyer, Bret Adams, got into the act by infamously e-mailing Feinstein. Hilarity ensued.

Before the Nuggets took down a tired Suns team 126-113 in Denver, I decided to get in on the fun, too. I wrote Adams an e-mail and tagged it "A heads-up."

I have been saying numerous bad things about your client lately, especially last week when they struggled to put away a poor Clippers team that was missing two of its top three players.

Maybe you should sue me into bankruptcy.

Signed,

A Nuggets Fan Living In New York Who Thanks The Heavens For FireGeorgeKarl.com and is contemplating starting HireLarryBrown.com.

The response was quick, and cobra-like.

Sorry you have so little going on in your life.

Sent from my iPhone

Ouch.

How did he know that all I do is work, fornicate, play Wii and drink?

After I responded that I was "[s]orry I don't have the entire internet laughing at me," Adams retorted with this gem:

Actually only people like u without a life, can deal with that

Sent from my iPhone

Adams then decided to take time out of his Wednesday to:

• swing by Forever 21 to check out the collection of spring skirts
• Google Image some shots of Chad Michael Murray from "One Tree Hill"
• flirt with the new counter guy at Jamba Juice
• play three games of Solitaire and two games of Free Cell
• ask Brittany about that knockoff Coach bag she bought in Chinatown
• download the new Vanessa Hudgens song on iTunes
  

After some head-scratching regarding his previous statement I unleashed the fury on Adams, mocking his sentence structure, age, intelligence, and ability to speak in his native tongue.

Thankfully, he didn't write back.

The Strange, Focused Curse of Ritchie McKay

If you peruse the current men's college basketball standings, you'll find that there's only three teams - three out of well more than 300 - that are completely winless in their conference.

They are: Rice, in Conference USA; Oregon State, in the Pac 10; and Colorado State, in the Mountain West.

One baseball school in Texas. One former powerhouse in the Northwest. And one non-anything school on the front range of the Rocky Mountains. On the surface they don't have much in common, but if you delve deeper you find out that two of them - Oregon State and Colorado State - were once coached by the same man: Ritchie McKay, current coach at Liberty.

There is nothing that needs to be written that hasn't been written before. In fact, two of McKay's other former programs - Portland State and New Mexico - are doing quite well. Portland State leads the Big Sky Conference (20-9, 13-2), and New Mexico is third in the MWC (22-7, 9-5).

So why OSU and CSU? It may be because a player named Ron Grady transferred from Oregon State to Colorado State to play for McKay, only to learn after a year that his coach was leaving to head up the program he had just left behind.

Or maybe it's because both of them are terrible programs that are headed in the wrong direction.

If you picked three teams out of all the programs in Div. I-A out of a hat, though, it'd probably be a long damn time before you found two that had been coached by the same person.

That's how it works, however. Some programs make the right decisions and move along, and some just take the hit.

Speaking of which, if you take "hit" out of "Ritchie," you get "Rice." Coincidence?