Last weekend was a perfect time for it. I’d have to say it is the sound track of March.
Thursday at work, we listened to the Norwalk Truckers game on the radio. None of the people in my office are from Norwalk; we have no relatives on the team and most of us aren’t even particularly interested in basketball. But that morning we were all Trucker fans. As the clock ran down in the fourth quarter, it started to feel like a sure thing that Norwalk’s fine team would prevail over the big city school.
As I’ve mentioned before, being a Cleveland Browns fan conditions you to wait until the clock runs out before you start celebrating. Different sport, different team, certainly a different win/loss ratio, but I had to stay calm until the last buzzer sounded. I didn’t want to jinx them. The fear that a loss would somehow be my fault is also a result of being a Browns fan.
Saturday I listened to the championship game and I was so tense that my hands were sweating and I was holding my breath. After it was over, I was thinking that if I was that excited, how must it feel to be a player in such an important game? The parents of those players have much of which to be proud, not the least of which is their grace under fire, determination and teamwork.
Some team members will undoubtedly play in college, but for some the championship game is the culmination of their basketball careers. They are going out winners. Congratulations to all involved.
Speaking of basketball, don’t ever ask me to predict the outcome of games. I chose my picks for the NCAA brackets. Well, let’s just say it might have been the kiss of death for my choices. As of this writing on Monday, I barely have a handful still alive. I did so poorly I might have to send Warren Buffett money.
If anyone is still trying to remember “Basketball Jones” I’ll give you one verse to tweak your memory.
“Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones Got a Basketball Jones, oh baby, oo-oo-ooo Yes, I am the victim of a Basketball Jones Ever since I was a little baby, I always be dribblin’ In fac, I was de baddest dribbler in the whole neighborhood Then one day, my mama bought me a basketball And I loved that basketball I took that basketball with me everywhere I went That basketball was like a basketball to me”
Easy to see why I can’t forget that masterpiece, huh?
Be kind to each other this week and try not to dribble.