It was the middle of March, wet and gray and tired.
You, sinking deep into your jacket as you walked the three blocks from one United Dairy Farmers to another United Dairy Farmers, felt an impending sense of finality to the season. Fall and winter in Ohio are often joked about as actually being four or five seasons, but in truth they're just one: a seven-month long cycle of caring too much about football, then basketball, then football again, then basketball again, then maybe women's hockey or wrestling, back to football for like a weekend, and at last: basketball.