I gotta admit, this week is wearing me down emotionally. A man can stare down the horrors of bottom-50 D-I basketball programs only so long before despondence and basketball existential crisis sets in. Why do these people do this? What constructive personal truths could possibly be gained by such extended, extensive failure on a scale likely limited only by the duration of the sport’s existence?
Is this anarchy or rebellion? Maybe a basketball is in fact not meant to bounce from hand to floor and back, but rather to bounce from stanchions and big toes and heads and scorer’s tables to defeat and back again.