As "March Madness" envelopes the land, I try to rise above the fray. There are no teams or coaches that I particularly care about. Jimmer Freddette from Glens Falls, NY is one whom I like to keep an eye on. I sometimes look at the conferences to see how many teams from each make it into the sweet sixteen. There are two big east teams left, from a record number of eleven teams in the final 60 or so. Maybe that is the correct proportion. I would follow it more carefully for the first round if Siena made it to the big dance.
But I like Notre Dame, a big east competitor. Phyllis' Uncle Bart was a ND graduate in 1930 something. He watched and taped every game possible and often returned to his alma mater for a football game. He remembered the great ones, whom I have forgotten. The night he died, in his nineties, he watched ND win a close basketball game. I had the pleasure of watching the first half with him in the hospital. Phyllis and Pat were with me, and when it was time to go home, Pat said to him "Do you mind if we leave/" And he looked at them and then at me and said with a twinkle in his eye "He can stay." Of course that was not possible. So I guess I watch Notre Dame sports in his memory, knowing that where Bart is sitting now, he can do a lot more for his team, sometimes.
So I decided to watch Notre Dame enter the sweet sixteen for 2011. I think Bart fell asleep. I think the whole team did. The ball seemed to bounce into FSU players hands whenever ND had it. The hoops seemed to elevate a foot or two whenever they attempted an inside shot, and beyond the circle.while the ball was in mid-air, magically, the hoop moved back a couple of feet producing an air ball. FSU jumped higher, shot way better, and outplayed the only team I was interested in (except Jimmer's team BYU). I lasted until one minute was left in the first half, and joined Bart in sleep. Maybe I was mad.
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