I was supremely confident that if there was ever a time that Christina Aguilera might alter her long-standing policy of appearing in public half naked (not that there’s anything wrong with that), it would be in the sub-Arctic outdoor environment of the Olympic Closing Ceremony.
As evidenced by the halter top, the hip-riding pants and the thong bikini strap protruding above them, I was clearly wrong, but I’m still not entirely sure the five bucks I lost on that bet wasn’t worth the eyeful anyway.
At any rate, upon seeing her outfit, and knowing the temperature outside, I couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that she either: one, would acknowledge no boundaries in her slutification method of shameless self promotion; or two, is just plain crazier than anything other than a college basketball tournament.
Fortunately, the college hoops world has finally reached its annual “Anarchy Stage,” and my lunacy-tracking radar can once again fully devote itself to basketball.
Seriously folks, is there any cultural phenomenon (other than the soft-core porn competition staged by pop stars like Christina, Britney and now even a 40-year-old Sheryl Crow) that can even come close to rivaling the blessed event known as March Madness?
Is there any other time that you would abandon “The Simpsons” reruns in favor of such bastions of public interest and affection as Bowling Green, Holy Cross, McNeese State and North Carolina A&T?
That’s about as probable as Gary Condit getting re-elected to Congress. (D’oh!)
But there’s something about this time of year that doesn’t involve a massive intake of alcohol that inspires me to be glued to the TV just because Lamar and Louisiana-Monroe are about to get it on.
Yes, I am a sports enthusiast and a basketball junkie in general, but even I’ll admit that, without ESPN personally sending me a check to boost my motivation, I ordinarily would not spend a Thursday afternoon hoping fervently that UMass takes Xavier to overtime.
It’s not just me, either. There’s a reason these sports networks are now broadcasting basketball ’round-the-clock that has nothing to do with the fact that the only individuals on the continent who like hockey are either north of the border or simply lacking the logical capabilities of your average 3-year-old?
Monkey.
It’s that you can take conference champions, pit them against teams that couldn’t differentiate between a basketball and a cup of strawberry-banana-flavored yogurt until the season was two-thirds over, and you still somehow wind up with drama and intrigue that the most twisted, sadistic soap opera writer couldn’t even conceive of.
It’s also the sense of sudden catastrophe lurking around the corner and the legitimate opportunities for the afterthoughts to topple the invincible juggernauts that can’t help but generate interest, especially considering that you can’t find such elements anywhere in sports other than the New England Patriots.
I am one of the four fans the NBA officially has left, and, speaking on behalf of the other three, I’ll admit that no matter who does what during that marathon 82-game season, we all know that, in the end, the Lakers will win it all.
In college basketball tourneys, sure you’ve got your Duke, your Kansas, your Maryland, and so on and so forth, but you can’t have too much certainty?let alone guarantee?that one bad half couldn’t reduce them to a heap of smoldering unrealized potential against the likes of Delaware State.
It’s beautiful.
It’s crazy.
And it’s not Miss Aguilera getting frostbite on her ass.
Eric welcomes feedback at: [email protected]