Middle Aged March Madness 2016
02-29-2016
, 03:55 PM
Cliffs for the tldr crowd: retread of multiple previous TRs; no Vegas content yet; long winded, self-aggrandizing prose; way too many pictures.
Previous TRs:
http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/10...015-a-1562789/
http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/10...d-men-1520660/
Aside from the January blizzard, it's been a mild winter in the New York area. Sandy Hook Bay accumulated a thin skein of ice over a particularly cold weekend, but it melted within days and the commute was, for the most part, unaffected by Old Man Winter.
beautiful and fleeting
My glorious daily commute continue to provide me the opportunity to see color everywhere. I think my affinity for color is one of the things that attracts me to Vegas the most. Nowhere I have been causes such visual sensory overload and I can spend hours in Vegas doing nothing more than allowing those colors to cascade into my brain. That said, I see colors before I see the objects they describe, and the colors are what force me to reach for my phone on a daily basis.
rare Saturday commute
my daily view
NYC is never boring...
...but sometimes it can feel like London
The mild winter has had some unexpected consequences. Rabbits and ducks have always been abundant in our town, but winter's icy finger of Death was light and they have multiplied in record numbers. I can't take the dog out into the back yard without her nearly choking herself to death in an attempt to get in one more meal.
wabbit season
duck season
Just waiting for her chance. #pamperedpitbull
Poker has been going ok. Not nearly as good as 2003 - 2014, but certainly better than 2015, which was my first unprofitable year since I took it up seriously. Hoping the Vegas poker run good continues.
recent online pot, please to happen again soon
Work has been fun and fulfilling. I know that the majority of the world labors in unsatisfying careers, just working to keep food on the table and beer flowing on the weekends. I have been blessed over the past 20+ years to wake excited for the day's work, one of the lucky few to derive joy from both life and work. The commercial work flowed throughout the fall, and had the pleasure to take part in a few great art projects as well. In November, Taschen published a limited edition of a book about the career of Giselle Bundchen. They only printed 1000 copies, priced at $700 each, which sold out before it was even published. Assuming a larger, much cheaper edition is coming soon. See below a sampling of the images that I printed for my favorite client, the famed photographer Mario Sorrenti.
jeez, internet, get over the fear of the nipple. Photos © Mario Sorrenti
More exciting was the opportunity to print images from Johan Lindeberg's visual diary of his trip to Nepal in the wake of the April earthquake of last year. If you're a fashion fan, you know Johan as the legendary fashion designer behind Diesel, BLK DNM and J. Lindeberg. In addition to his work in fashion, he has been a creative director and photographer, and more importantly, a tireless philanthropist and supporter of the world's needy. He travelled to Nepal after the earthquake in an attempt to see if there was any way he could help. In the end, he came away with an amazing series of photographs of the beauty and resiliency of the people of Nepal. He then mounted an exhibition of these images in NYC and auctioned all of the prints off, donating the proceeds to a charity dedicated to the rebuilding efforts in Nepal. Here are a few of those images. The exhibition was beautiful, with massive prints, some as large as 7 feet.
photos © Johan Lindeberg
After the project, he was kind enough to make a gift to me of a print of my favorite image from the series. It is currently at the framer's and will occupy a place of honor in my home.
© Johan Lindeberg. I love this photo, it reminds me of Werner Bischof's photos of Japan in the '50's.
Enough narcissistic rambling, on to this year's March Madness trip. We are just over two weeks out and the chatter is beginning to increase. The crew is taking form. At the moment, we have 5 confirmed travelers and a few outliers who may make surprise appearances in the City of Sin. Here's this year's core 5, bios to come.
who is Keyser Soze?
Next: logistics, crew bios and Sin City
Previous TRs:
http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/10...015-a-1562789/
http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/10...d-men-1520660/
Aside from the January blizzard, it's been a mild winter in the New York area. Sandy Hook Bay accumulated a thin skein of ice over a particularly cold weekend, but it melted within days and the commute was, for the most part, unaffected by Old Man Winter.
beautiful and fleeting
My glorious daily commute continue to provide me the opportunity to see color everywhere. I think my affinity for color is one of the things that attracts me to Vegas the most. Nowhere I have been causes such visual sensory overload and I can spend hours in Vegas doing nothing more than allowing those colors to cascade into my brain. That said, I see colors before I see the objects they describe, and the colors are what force me to reach for my phone on a daily basis.
rare Saturday commute
my daily view
NYC is never boring...
...but sometimes it can feel like London
The mild winter has had some unexpected consequences. Rabbits and ducks have always been abundant in our town, but winter's icy finger of Death was light and they have multiplied in record numbers. I can't take the dog out into the back yard without her nearly choking herself to death in an attempt to get in one more meal.
wabbit season
duck season
Just waiting for her chance. #pamperedpitbull
Poker has been going ok. Not nearly as good as 2003 - 2014, but certainly better than 2015, which was my first unprofitable year since I took it up seriously. Hoping the Vegas poker run good continues.
recent online pot, please to happen again soon
Work has been fun and fulfilling. I know that the majority of the world labors in unsatisfying careers, just working to keep food on the table and beer flowing on the weekends. I have been blessed over the past 20+ years to wake excited for the day's work, one of the lucky few to derive joy from both life and work. The commercial work flowed throughout the fall, and had the pleasure to take part in a few great art projects as well. In November, Taschen published a limited edition of a book about the career of Giselle Bundchen. They only printed 1000 copies, priced at $700 each, which sold out before it was even published. Assuming a larger, much cheaper edition is coming soon. See below a sampling of the images that I printed for my favorite client, the famed photographer Mario Sorrenti.
jeez, internet, get over the fear of the nipple. Photos © Mario Sorrenti
More exciting was the opportunity to print images from Johan Lindeberg's visual diary of his trip to Nepal in the wake of the April earthquake of last year. If you're a fashion fan, you know Johan as the legendary fashion designer behind Diesel, BLK DNM and J. Lindeberg. In addition to his work in fashion, he has been a creative director and photographer, and more importantly, a tireless philanthropist and supporter of the world's needy. He travelled to Nepal after the earthquake in an attempt to see if there was any way he could help. In the end, he came away with an amazing series of photographs of the beauty and resiliency of the people of Nepal. He then mounted an exhibition of these images in NYC and auctioned all of the prints off, donating the proceeds to a charity dedicated to the rebuilding efforts in Nepal. Here are a few of those images. The exhibition was beautiful, with massive prints, some as large as 7 feet.
photos © Johan Lindeberg
After the project, he was kind enough to make a gift to me of a print of my favorite image from the series. It is currently at the framer's and will occupy a place of honor in my home.
© Johan Lindeberg. I love this photo, it reminds me of Werner Bischof's photos of Japan in the '50's.
Enough narcissistic rambling, on to this year's March Madness trip. We are just over two weeks out and the chatter is beginning to increase. The crew is taking form. At the moment, we have 5 confirmed travelers and a few outliers who may make surprise appearances in the City of Sin. Here's this year's core 5, bios to come.
who is Keyser Soze?
Next: logistics, crew bios and Sin City
02-29-2016
, 06:43 PM
03-01-2016
, 04:58 PM
03-01-2016
, 05:58 PM
This year's crew:
Your humble OP, pixelpusher. Lover of poker, food and photography. Short, stoned and soggy around the middle.
Crockett was one of the three stooges during October's Vegas trip. Your estimation of Crockett would depend upon the lighting in which you meet him. In some light, he looks like a sharp, seasoned businessman. In other light, he looks like an aged club kid waiting for the beat to drop and the E to arrive. Talented cash game player, beginning to make forays into PLO and the tournament scene, he's the only other poker player in this year's crew. Easy traveling companion, appreciates fine food and will 3-bet his friends relentlessly.
You may remember McLovin from last year's March Madness TR. 86'ed from more casinos than anyone I know. Predisposed to 36 hour craps benders, playing craps pantsless, and throwing the dice 40 feet when he doesn't like the vibe at the table. Has been known to insult pit bosses for entertainment. An excellent cook and cocktail afficionado and master at gaming the casino comp system. I have no idea how he is able to stay off casinos' blacklists AND still get crazy comps.
Formerly referred to as Webelo in the October TR, the man who made my Mets World Series dream come true. A great traveling companion and a happy drunk. Sometimes referred to as the Oracle for his ability to handicap and predict sporting events. A math savant and programmer who hates technology, he once wrote a program to pull live stats from college basketball games that did a better job of it than any of the fantasy sites at the time. He wasn't able to sell it, but monetized it in the form of creating an edge that garnered him many wins in the fantasy realm. Has always been that one guy in your group of friends that rarely responds to emails, texts, phone calls, etc. He took this to new levels this winter when no one heard from him in over two months. He made sudden contact after all that time last week to ask "When are we going to Vegas?" and is now referred to as the Ghost.
Footlong once got in a fight with a NYC manhole cover that ended with a bone sticking out of his leg. Has a giant tattoo of the suicide king on his shoulder. Knows more about 80's music than anyone you know. Video editor, DJ, bass player and maker of artisinal soap. Once traveled the USA in a van with a frankfurter on top of it to make a documentary about the hot dog in America. It's called, ...wait for it..., Foot Long. Filming culminated with his participation in the July 4th Nathan's hot dog eating contest. I am not making any of this up.
Three outliers may or may not join us: BeerMan, CricketDog and the Mountaineer. More on them should they choose to join us last minute. Of course, we hope to meet lots of new people including some 2p2ers.
Can't imagine there will be many more updates prior to Vegas. Crockett hits town first, then I arrive the night before tip off, with the rest of the crew soon after. Feel free to make this an AMA until then, otherwise will post upon arrival.
Your humble OP, pixelpusher. Lover of poker, food and photography. Short, stoned and soggy around the middle.
Crockett was one of the three stooges during October's Vegas trip. Your estimation of Crockett would depend upon the lighting in which you meet him. In some light, he looks like a sharp, seasoned businessman. In other light, he looks like an aged club kid waiting for the beat to drop and the E to arrive. Talented cash game player, beginning to make forays into PLO and the tournament scene, he's the only other poker player in this year's crew. Easy traveling companion, appreciates fine food and will 3-bet his friends relentlessly.
You may remember McLovin from last year's March Madness TR. 86'ed from more casinos than anyone I know. Predisposed to 36 hour craps benders, playing craps pantsless, and throwing the dice 40 feet when he doesn't like the vibe at the table. Has been known to insult pit bosses for entertainment. An excellent cook and cocktail afficionado and master at gaming the casino comp system. I have no idea how he is able to stay off casinos' blacklists AND still get crazy comps.
Formerly referred to as Webelo in the October TR, the man who made my Mets World Series dream come true. A great traveling companion and a happy drunk. Sometimes referred to as the Oracle for his ability to handicap and predict sporting events. A math savant and programmer who hates technology, he once wrote a program to pull live stats from college basketball games that did a better job of it than any of the fantasy sites at the time. He wasn't able to sell it, but monetized it in the form of creating an edge that garnered him many wins in the fantasy realm. Has always been that one guy in your group of friends that rarely responds to emails, texts, phone calls, etc. He took this to new levels this winter when no one heard from him in over two months. He made sudden contact after all that time last week to ask "When are we going to Vegas?" and is now referred to as the Ghost.
Footlong once got in a fight with a NYC manhole cover that ended with a bone sticking out of his leg. Has a giant tattoo of the suicide king on his shoulder. Knows more about 80's music than anyone you know. Video editor, DJ, bass player and maker of artisinal soap. Once traveled the USA in a van with a frankfurter on top of it to make a documentary about the hot dog in America. It's called, ...wait for it..., Foot Long. Filming culminated with his participation in the July 4th Nathan's hot dog eating contest. I am not making any of this up.
Three outliers may or may not join us: BeerMan, CricketDog and the Mountaineer. More on them should they choose to join us last minute. Of course, we hope to meet lots of new people including some 2p2ers.
Can't imagine there will be many more updates prior to Vegas. Crockett hits town first, then I arrive the night before tip off, with the rest of the crew soon after. Feel free to make this an AMA until then, otherwise will post upon arrival.
03-04-2016
, 12:33 PM
Winter's last gasp today has me dreaming of Vegas. T minus 12 days.
Will definitely be playing Aria PLO, Phishy, stop by and say hi.
03-04-2016
, 10:07 PM
03-05-2016
, 01:25 PM
03-06-2016
, 01:41 PM
Oh no. They got Tommy!
03-06-2016
, 07:54 PM
03-07-2016
, 10:19 AM
I plan to play at Aria a lot. Maybe I'll splash in lowest levels of PLO, typically 1/2 or 3/5 NLHE.
Will you be updating during trip or just a post trip rap up?
03-07-2016
, 06:50 PM
Quote:
I get in late Wed. Staying at CP for first time. Wonder how the atmosphere of Flamingo pool during NCAAs/Spring Break/St.Pats will differ from CP's pool at same time.
I plan to play at Aria a lot. Maybe I'll splash in lowest levels of PLO, typically 1/2 or 3/5 NLHE.
Will you be updating during trip or just a post trip rap up?
I plan to play at Aria a lot. Maybe I'll splash in lowest levels of PLO, typically 1/2 or 3/5 NLHE.
Will you be updating during trip or just a post trip rap up?
T minus 9 days.
Maybe I'll just post one of my Vegas pics each day until arrival, just to keep Vegas at the forefront of my thoughts.
aftermath of oyster dish at é by Jose Andres
03-12-2016
, 04:32 AM
Cliffs: getting pumped for March Madness, still no Vegas content
Work was light today, and produced a glorious preview of next weekend. I was able to keep conference tournament games streaming and pay them lots of attention. When the Friday pizzas arrived, Michigan was just capping off its frenzied, last second defeat of Indiana. This is the stuff of dreams, these all or nothing March games, win or go home, and only these conference games are merely a precursor to the intensity of the Big Dance.
My only client meeting for the day arrived and I went down to the viewing room to get his feedback on the newest iteration of the monumental print we've been working on. It's a portrait of a beautiful woman, soft warm light on her face, rendering her beatific. She's neither frowning nor smiling, just gazing peacefully into the viewer's eyes. The print is larger than life, a bust nearly five feet tall, displaying her from the shoulders up. The giant portrait is the only color in the room, four white walls bathed in hot white studio lights, and the warmth from the print's colors diffuses any of the room's pretension toward sterility. The photographer is happy, but of course there is work to do; the shadows in her skin are just a bit too warm, this bit of her hair there on the top of her head should be a bit darker, the flush in her cheeks is reading a little too much like makeup, can we do something about that? We schedule time to view a revision next Tuesday and my client leaves smiling. New York thin crust in my belly, college basketball streaming upstairs, satisfied customer departing. I hope I'm not using up all of my weekend rungood.
The production crew is getting into the Friday groove, blasting Wham and other 80's pop anthems and I am happy to escape back up into the cave to the glow of the monitors. I open the up the portrait file, ostensibly to begin the revisions just discussed, but I have a couple of business days to do the work and the UCONN game is just starting.
I'm not sure how my son became a UCONN fan. When he was in the crib I only instilled the dogma of two belief systems, the Giants and the Mets. In all other things, he was left to his own devices. When the Huskies made the Sweet 16 in 2009, Pixelboy told me that they had been his team for a while. I've never had a college rooting interest, but in solidarity with the kid, I pull for his favorite team. It was fun watching him go nuts when they won it all in 2011 and even better two years ago when they did it again. That was the year I bought UCONN at 30-1 the day before the start of the Dance. I always buy the Pixel family keepsakes when I travel to Vegas. The girls like night shirts, hats and the like. That year, I bought Pixelboy a small ticket at 30-1 on his boys as well.
So given the chance to watch UCONN take on Cincinatti this afternoon, I knew I'd have a hard time focusing on any more work. Early in the second half, I texted the kid when he should have been leaving school.
Pixel: Watching UCONN/Cincy at work
Pixelboy: Txt me updates I am working on crazy project at school, gonna b stuck here for hours, can't watch
By now, you've seen the highlights of this quadruple overtime thriller, but if you weren't able to see it live, you missed an instant classic. UCONN, fighting from behind throughout regulation, surged to a 7 point lead with little time left on the clock, then coughed it up, and the game headed to overtime.
Pixel: 62-62 to start OT
Pixelboy: Update me w score after every minute passes
Pixel: I don't work for u
But of course, I got sucked into the game and sent him a stream of updates. Double OT, then triple OT.
Pixelboy: I'm going to cry.
Both teams were hitting clutch shot after clutch shot. It seemed like Cincinatti's star Troy Caupain could hit from anywhere. Triple OT was winding down when the Bearcats got the ball with the shot clock turned off. After a brick and an offensive board, they dropped a huge bucket to go up by 3 with 0.8 seconds on the clock. UCONN had no timeouts. While Cincinatti was celebrating, UCONN inbounded the ball, and snap heaved in a 3/4 court shot as time expired to send it to quadruple OT.
Pixel: UNBELIEVABLE!!!!
Pixelboy: what what what
I send him the details.
Pixelboy: OMG OMG OMG yes please
I narrate the 4th OT for him in a flurry of texts. Finally, the good guys put it away.
Pixel: UCONN 104, Cincy 97 final 4 OT
Pixelboy: ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!!!!
By now, it's after 5 PM and I know that all my work energy for the week has been expended. I leave early to catch the ferry home for the weekend, the fading sun painting the harbor as we leave Manhattan.
let the weekend begin
The conference tournament schedule is packed tonight and I'm looking forward to binging on basketball for the rest of the night. I make a plan to head down to the Gaslight, the restaurant/bar two blocks from my house, with four glorious screens of basketball. Pixelgirl is sick and doesn't want to join us, but Mrs. Pixel will tolerate the basketball because the food's good there. I meet her and Pixelboy there where we dine on red snapper and ahi and watch Baylor try to hang with Kansas.
After dinner, it's back to the crib for channel surfing, eventually settling on a rotation of Seton Hall/Xavier, Miami/Virginia, and Oklahoma/West Virginia. I'm most interested in how Virginia and Oklahoma look. During my October poker trip to Vegas, I bought Virginia at 25-1 and the Sooners at 35-1 to cut down the nets come April 4th. Virginia makes me feel good, they look like a one seed. Oklahoma is troubling. They have a hard time with the Mountaineers, scrabbling to keep up with them, and their superstar Buddy Hield has a nightmare game. He's sitting on 6 points, 20 below his average, as the game approaches crunch time. They're down by 3 with 4 minutes left when my POS Comcast set top decides to reboot itself. You've gotta be kidding me. When this happens, it can take up to 10 minutes for the stupid system to reload itself. I head out to the garage for a cigarette, smoke already coming out of my ears. When I come back inside, the TV feed is back and Oklahoma is up by 1. Soon after, Buddy Hield hits the shot heard round the world. After West Virginia goes up by 2, Hield fields the ball and with under a second left, leaps in the air over the half court line. He releases the ball as time expires, and sinks a half court three. He loses his mind, leaps on the scorers table, jumps into the Oklahoma fan section, and unleashes a primal roar.
Who's the man?
Not so fast...
soooo close but that shot clock be red
It was not to be, as replay revealed the ball still just brushing his fingertips as the shot clock hit zero. But I was still pacing around the living room, shaking my head at the wonder of the moment. All I could think about was how electric this moment would have felt had it occurred next week, me standing among the pulsing hundreds staring at the screens in a Vegas sports book, screaming.
Can. Not. Wait. Five days till Vegas.
Work was light today, and produced a glorious preview of next weekend. I was able to keep conference tournament games streaming and pay them lots of attention. When the Friday pizzas arrived, Michigan was just capping off its frenzied, last second defeat of Indiana. This is the stuff of dreams, these all or nothing March games, win or go home, and only these conference games are merely a precursor to the intensity of the Big Dance.
My only client meeting for the day arrived and I went down to the viewing room to get his feedback on the newest iteration of the monumental print we've been working on. It's a portrait of a beautiful woman, soft warm light on her face, rendering her beatific. She's neither frowning nor smiling, just gazing peacefully into the viewer's eyes. The print is larger than life, a bust nearly five feet tall, displaying her from the shoulders up. The giant portrait is the only color in the room, four white walls bathed in hot white studio lights, and the warmth from the print's colors diffuses any of the room's pretension toward sterility. The photographer is happy, but of course there is work to do; the shadows in her skin are just a bit too warm, this bit of her hair there on the top of her head should be a bit darker, the flush in her cheeks is reading a little too much like makeup, can we do something about that? We schedule time to view a revision next Tuesday and my client leaves smiling. New York thin crust in my belly, college basketball streaming upstairs, satisfied customer departing. I hope I'm not using up all of my weekend rungood.
The production crew is getting into the Friday groove, blasting Wham and other 80's pop anthems and I am happy to escape back up into the cave to the glow of the monitors. I open the up the portrait file, ostensibly to begin the revisions just discussed, but I have a couple of business days to do the work and the UCONN game is just starting.
I'm not sure how my son became a UCONN fan. When he was in the crib I only instilled the dogma of two belief systems, the Giants and the Mets. In all other things, he was left to his own devices. When the Huskies made the Sweet 16 in 2009, Pixelboy told me that they had been his team for a while. I've never had a college rooting interest, but in solidarity with the kid, I pull for his favorite team. It was fun watching him go nuts when they won it all in 2011 and even better two years ago when they did it again. That was the year I bought UCONN at 30-1 the day before the start of the Dance. I always buy the Pixel family keepsakes when I travel to Vegas. The girls like night shirts, hats and the like. That year, I bought Pixelboy a small ticket at 30-1 on his boys as well.
So given the chance to watch UCONN take on Cincinatti this afternoon, I knew I'd have a hard time focusing on any more work. Early in the second half, I texted the kid when he should have been leaving school.
Pixel: Watching UCONN/Cincy at work
Pixelboy: Txt me updates I am working on crazy project at school, gonna b stuck here for hours, can't watch
By now, you've seen the highlights of this quadruple overtime thriller, but if you weren't able to see it live, you missed an instant classic. UCONN, fighting from behind throughout regulation, surged to a 7 point lead with little time left on the clock, then coughed it up, and the game headed to overtime.
Pixel: 62-62 to start OT
Pixelboy: Update me w score after every minute passes
Pixel: I don't work for u
But of course, I got sucked into the game and sent him a stream of updates. Double OT, then triple OT.
Pixelboy: I'm going to cry.
Both teams were hitting clutch shot after clutch shot. It seemed like Cincinatti's star Troy Caupain could hit from anywhere. Triple OT was winding down when the Bearcats got the ball with the shot clock turned off. After a brick and an offensive board, they dropped a huge bucket to go up by 3 with 0.8 seconds on the clock. UCONN had no timeouts. While Cincinatti was celebrating, UCONN inbounded the ball, and snap heaved in a 3/4 court shot as time expired to send it to quadruple OT.
Pixel: UNBELIEVABLE!!!!
Pixelboy: what what what
I send him the details.
Pixelboy: OMG OMG OMG yes please
I narrate the 4th OT for him in a flurry of texts. Finally, the good guys put it away.
Pixel: UCONN 104, Cincy 97 final 4 OT
Pixelboy: ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!!!!
By now, it's after 5 PM and I know that all my work energy for the week has been expended. I leave early to catch the ferry home for the weekend, the fading sun painting the harbor as we leave Manhattan.
let the weekend begin
The conference tournament schedule is packed tonight and I'm looking forward to binging on basketball for the rest of the night. I make a plan to head down to the Gaslight, the restaurant/bar two blocks from my house, with four glorious screens of basketball. Pixelgirl is sick and doesn't want to join us, but Mrs. Pixel will tolerate the basketball because the food's good there. I meet her and Pixelboy there where we dine on red snapper and ahi and watch Baylor try to hang with Kansas.
After dinner, it's back to the crib for channel surfing, eventually settling on a rotation of Seton Hall/Xavier, Miami/Virginia, and Oklahoma/West Virginia. I'm most interested in how Virginia and Oklahoma look. During my October poker trip to Vegas, I bought Virginia at 25-1 and the Sooners at 35-1 to cut down the nets come April 4th. Virginia makes me feel good, they look like a one seed. Oklahoma is troubling. They have a hard time with the Mountaineers, scrabbling to keep up with them, and their superstar Buddy Hield has a nightmare game. He's sitting on 6 points, 20 below his average, as the game approaches crunch time. They're down by 3 with 4 minutes left when my POS Comcast set top decides to reboot itself. You've gotta be kidding me. When this happens, it can take up to 10 minutes for the stupid system to reload itself. I head out to the garage for a cigarette, smoke already coming out of my ears. When I come back inside, the TV feed is back and Oklahoma is up by 1. Soon after, Buddy Hield hits the shot heard round the world. After West Virginia goes up by 2, Hield fields the ball and with under a second left, leaps in the air over the half court line. He releases the ball as time expires, and sinks a half court three. He loses his mind, leaps on the scorers table, jumps into the Oklahoma fan section, and unleashes a primal roar.
Who's the man?
Not so fast...
soooo close but that shot clock be red
It was not to be, as replay revealed the ball still just brushing his fingertips as the shot clock hit zero. But I was still pacing around the living room, shaking my head at the wonder of the moment. All I could think about was how electric this moment would have felt had it occurred next week, me standing among the pulsing hundreds staring at the screens in a Vegas sports book, screaming.
Can. Not. Wait. Five days till Vegas.
