Sometimes, when ideas are slow at Inside NU, we let Tristan Jung go off the rails. Today is one of those days. Obviously, most of this story is completely fictional, except for the basketball. The basketball happened, unfortunately, on March 11, 2011.
I see her face again in the Jumbotron at the Conseco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis. I’d dragged myself through the door to watch some basketball, any basketball, to take my mind off the upset clients and the student loan debts. Basketball has a way of making you forget the past, engrossing you in a contest of swirling limbs and impossible physics that churn through the bracken in your mind.