It wasn’t a bad tournament. Nor was it necessarily a good one. But it was the tournament we expected and the expected we got. Very rarely have I had such emotional polarity in a sporting weekend. I had to take a break from all things athletics on Sunday just to get myself back in control of, well, myself.
My happiness and anger, my ecstasy and rage ebbed and flowed like the worst metaphorical tide you can think of for the better part of the Big Ten Tournament. I watched Spencer Lee round into form, then inevitably back out.