Tahoe Pine Nuts: The Madness that is March
This is the very best time of year, that delicious month when we watch college hoops, drink copious amounts of beer, eat mountains of peanuts, and carry money out of the sports book in wheelbarrows.
But you do need to understand the game, and if you’d like to learn, well, you’ve come to the right place.
Big Dance 101: It helps to know that when the ball goes through the macramé it’s worth two points, unless the ball is fired from a great distance, like from a canon, when it’s three points.
Also, a player can’t forget to bounce the ball on the floor or he will get in trouble for walking with the ball. They call bouncing the ball “dribbling.” I don’t know why.
And if you stop dribbling, but then start dribbling again, they call that double dribbling, and men in striped shirts will take the ball away from you and give it to the other guys.
In The Big Dance, you cannot hit someone with anything more than your elbow, and you can’t tug on a jersey when a player is in the air shooting at the hoop, or tell him his shoes are untied.
The cheerleaders are solid muscle and can flip over backwards when they get excited. You don’t want to get too close to a cheerleader if you’re at the game because they will kick you across a 10-acre lot if given the chance.
But smile? When the camera gets on those cheerleaders they can smile like they’re making Colgate toothpaste commercials, and getting paid for how long and wide they can hold that smile.
The fans are the best! Sometimes they will hold up a picture of Marilyn Monroe just when a player is about to take a shot at the basket, and that player will stop and stare.
I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody this year didn’t go and hold up a picture of Lady Gaga just when a player is dribbling down the floor and looking up for the basket.
You can’t be a ball hog at the Big Dance. I was a ball hog in high school. My half-court hook-shot went straight into the hole the first time I tried it in a game, and though Coach Phillips read me the riot act, it gave me a reputation I would live on for the rest of the year.
I still remember Coach Phillips’s last words to me as he cut me from the squad, “Layne, this is a TEAM sport!” I only knew one play, and that was high-diddle-diddle-right-down-the-middle.
OK, so let’s get down to business here — who are we going to ride to the Final Four and beyond? Who is going to line our pockets with Andrew Jacksons?
Let me give you a clue. A girl who once left there wore red shoes and took her dog Toto with her.
Figure that riddle my friend, and we will be drinking free in April. Now, where’s my wheelbarrow…
Learn more about McAvoy Layne at http://www.ghostoftwain.com.
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