Mister Faded Glory | www.misterfadedglory.com

This is impromptu, but I’m taking a short break.

I will be back as soon as I can. Please don’t worry. And thank you for reading Mr. Faded Glory.

Pearl Jam/”The End.”

What were all those dreams we shared those many years ago?
What were all those plans we made, now left beside the road?
Behind us in the road.

More than friends, I always pledge, ’cause friends they come and go.
People change as does everything, I wanted to grow old.
I just want to grow old.

Slide on next to me,
I’m just a human being.
I will take the blame, but just the same, this is not me,
you see, believe, I’m better than this – don’t leave…
Me so close,
I’m buried beneath the stones,
I just want to hold on and know I’m worth your love.
and I, don’t think, there’s such a thing.

It’s my fault now, I’ve been caught, a sickness in my bones.
How it pains to leave you here with the kids on your own,
Just don’t let me go.

Help me see myself,
‘Cause I can no longer tell,
Looking up from inside the bottom of a well
I yell, but no one hears
Before I disappear, whisper in my ear.
Give me something to echo in my unknown future.
you hear? the end, comes near, I’m here, but not much longer.

Join at your own peril.

As you can tell by Franklin’s color, he roots for Syracuse.

As you know, I’m clinging to my picks, leaving the angst to others while remaining on my favorite team’s bandwagon, and casually comparing the 2010 tournament to 2000 and 2002.

But a few pods still frustrate.

In the South, a potential Villanova vs. Baylor match-up vexes me. Talking heads everywhere are all over Baylor, (gulp), just like me. Computers love them and they’d be a great story. They also pass the eye test – though K-State beat them Friday, you couldn’t watch that team and think they wouldn’t be an enormous challenge to anyone. But they guard teams as passively as the Wildcats. And, looking at guards, wouldn’t I take the proven Scottie Reynolds, Corey Fisher, and Reggie Stokes instead of Baylor’s guys, whom I can’t even name?

But that’s too much Big East love. I’ve already got West Virginia in the final game, and that alone gives me heart palpitations. And because of my open disdain for New Mexico and Steve Alford, Marquette, and that horrendous Clemson and Missouri matchup, I can’t even bear to ride anyone but the Mountaineers.

In the East, I’m flummoxed by the Wisconsin, Temple and Cornell logjam. All underseeded, and all guarding the hell out of anyone, and all unable to be blown out. I’m on record as backing Temple, but in each of my office pools (Thanks, mom, Ms. Faded Glory, and all you K-State fans) I’ve written Wisconsin into the Elite Eight, and I’m tempted to launch them into the Final Four. It’s my upset special. It’s faith of Bo Ryan, and I’ve now cursed the Badgers eternally. But to put them in the Final Four … Well, I’d have to pray for a Wisco-Baylor grudge match. And to be quite frank, that’s fucking hopeless, isn’t it?

Also, I’m clinging to my Kansas pick, despite the tons of chalk surrounding the ‘Hawks. In fact, I’m clinging to most of my knee-jerk reactions. Two reasons here.

One: Pat Forde, ESPN columnist (supposedly a Syracuse-hater, but I don’t see it), is notoriously dead-on accurate in these pools. Check his record, he’s amazing. There has to be a science. He’s really good. He’s the anti-Andy Katz. And for whatever reason, this year he and I match up nearly totally, and it was not intentional by either of us. Great minds, I hope. Coincidence, I assume. (Check my timestamp!)

But Forde further boosted my confidence, appearing on the Tony Kornheiser show to review his brackets, and uttering these two talking points:

I’d like to pick Northern Iowa to win two games, but not against Kansas.

This is almost verbatim what I said Sunday night, and leading up to the tournament. Go ahead, scroll down and back. I’ll wait.

I like Butler a lot, and would like to pick them to a regional final, but I can’t against Syracuse.

Now, you all know me, and you know I’m deathly afraid of Butler. But Pat affirms: Pick UTEP or Vandy at your own peril. As I’ve said.

(Also sharing similar picks to me and Pat? The Big Lead. Yes, I’m trying to block this out. Maybe they’ll be distracted by the brilliance of this week’s The Office, or a laudatory discussion of Crash. We can dream.)

Meaningless? Maybe. Hopeless? Probably. But it’s Pat Forde and trust of my gut that’s allowing me to cling to my picks. I suppose that’s enough. In two days, off we go. See you there.

Remember last post? We hinted at the comparison of the 2010 tournament to 2000 and 2002. Here’s why.

In 2002, few teams overwhelmed, and the field seemed wide-open, just like this year.

Also just like this year, Kansas was seeded No. 1 and a popular postseason pick. Maryland also was seeded No. 1, and the Terps and Jayhawks squared off in the national semifinal – both clearly were the two top teams in the tournament. On the other side of the bracket, Oklahoma and Indiana battled in the national semifinals for the honor of runner-up. Obviously, I’d compare Kansas and Syracuse in 2010 as the possible parallel, and the added bonus is Bob Huggin’s West Virginia team resembling a grinding Kelvin Sampson-Oklahoma squad.

The parallels might hearken closer to 2000, however. In that season, we entered the tourney with only one clear-cut favorite: Michigan State. No one else was that close, particularly among No. 1 seeds. Further testimony to that, No. 1s Arizona and Stanford were knocked out in the second round, by Wisconsin and North Carolina, respectively. Like this year, certainly two or three No. 1 seeds are vulnerable – and just as many prognosticators universally picked Kansas as the mad rush for Michigan State in 2000.

Also, in 2000, Michigan State also suffered similar bracket construction as Kansas. The Spartans’ region featured No. 2 Iowa State, actually the second-best team in the country (and also, who should have beaten MSU), No. 4 Syracuse, who began the year 19-0, was No. 1 in the Big East, but was upset in the conference tournament (See.), eventually losing to Michigan State, even with a 14-point halftime lead. (I wept.) No 6 UCLA, who underachieved early in the year, was scorching-hot entering the tournament, and blitzed three-seeded Maryland by 35.

That region was the only one adhering closely to chalk, everywhere else was chaos. (Bill Self took No. 7 Tulsa to an Elite Eight) and three No. 1 seeds were out by the second weekend. In particular, the Wisconsin-Purdue final in the Midwest made time stop.

And it doesn’t take a Mensa scholar to forecast an early No. 1-seed upset or early No. 2-seed upsets this year. These don’t happen every year, but they do happen often. And Villanova, Ohio State, Kansas State and West Virginia aren’t exactly juggernauts. Even mediocre teams like Missouri, Clemson, BYU or Oklahoma State could get hot. None of the above put anyone away – and it only takes one hot-shooting squad to fell the high seeds. Several already forecast a Duke upset at the hand of Louisville; and I could even see Texas beating Kentucky. As you know. And don’t get me started on Gonzaga, Florida State and Butler, all specifically constructed to destroy a 2-3 zone.

So we may have chaos, if circumstance and history are any guide. But even adhering to my first-reaction picks, two pods are giving me headaches. Heck, let’s make it three.

I suffered through a lot of car talking-head-radio time yesterday, and almost suffered a mini-meltdown reassuring myself that only one bracket is the way to go, and desperately trying to cling to my picks. Yes, I still have the Kansas-Syracuse-West Virginia-Baylor Final Four I told you about Sunday. Yes, I’m still iffy on all four.

Even Syracuse, whom I’ve picked into the Final Four, violating my traditional “Wax your team early and don’t potentially jinx your favorite club’s once in a lifetime chances.”

Well, I’ve thrown that rule out the window. Because of a couple things. One: In a stunning bout of maturity, I hardly believe the opinion of Mr. Faded Glory swings the outcomes of the Orange. I know, I know, it’s true. Two: I’ve seen ‘em win the title, so my angst level is much, much lower. This isn’t the Cubs, where any superstition reigns supreme and the slightest deviation from bland hope results in crushing doom.

Three: As I’ve gotten older, the tournament befuddles me more each season. I accept this. I don’t watch as much college basketball as the 12-year-old who lost a chance at a thousand bucks when Duke shocked UNLV, or the teenager who nailed 30 out of 32, 14 out of 16 and got Arkansas, Duke, Florida and Arizona correctly in 1994. Yes, I only bring this up as a chance to mention it.

BUT ANYWAY, I figure I’m going to watch. I’m going to cheer for Syracuse, I’m going to live and die with them. Why not pick them? Legitimately, they and Kansas are the two best teams in the nation, having dominated the two best conferences.

Plus, it’s certainly possible that the Syracuse could face both Kansas and Kansas State; a trinity of the teams I’ve watched most this season. Let my scouting record show that Butler and Gonzaga are tougher matchups for Syracuse: KU and KSU actually might play right into their hands. They don’t concern me as much as even, say, Florida State. (Assuming, you know, Cuse beats Vermont. I don’t assume).

But regardless, I can barely pick the Kansas teams over Syracuse, let alone root for them. I also don’t know how I can survive in this region without Syracuse advancing to the finals. I can’t take a decade of taunts from fanbases who pay more attention to their foes than their own teams. However, if Syracuse beats both Kansas schools – well, let’s just say I may no longer be welcome in my home. Or at least the John Wallace jersey may have to be stowed temporarily.

Anyway, they stay in my Final Four. Besides, I look at this tournament as resembling 2000 and 2002. Maybe I’m wrong.

Spent Saturday on Twitter decrying West Virginia because they play right with each and every opponent – but now I’m about to heap a bunch of love on them. These are the brackets in a nutshell.

Each team rife with flaws, and it’s tough to look at any contender and see a clear path to the Final Four. Besides Kansas’ tough bottom-half, you’ve got Syracuse’s early gauntlet – playing Vermont (wink, wink, committee. We get it.), then Gonzaga or Florida State, then potentially Butler, who scares me to death.

In a collegiate landscape that features no clear contenders, and glaring weaknesses or concerns on each team, it’s almost impossible not to overthink your bracket. In fact, right now we’re watching the Bracketology talking heads argue about Illinois, Virginia Tech, Wake Forest, Mississippi State, Florida, and others. Well, stop overthinking. Those teams are all terrible.

So I’m doing the opposite this year – going knee-jerk and picking the finals. And yes, I was worried about Gonzaga and Florida State immediately. Now that I know Arinze Onuaku probably won’t play in weekend 1 … I’m petrified. Undaunted, off we go.

MIDWEST.

First round winners: Kansas, Northern Iowa, Michigan State, Maryland, Tennessee, Georgetown, Oklahoma State and Ohio State.

Too bad for Northern Iowa. This team could have done some damage if it got the right draw – a seeding opposite UNLV and Kansas is perhaps the polar opposite. I wanted to pick Houston over Maryland, but I ended up going with the Terps – even though Houston got hot and surprised in the CUSA tourney, doubtful that carries through for the weekend. Besides, with one first-round win, maybe Maryland will retire Greivis Vasquez’ number. The committee decided to toss schizophrenic Georgetown a softball in round one, just because they love the Hoyas’ upside. I choose to believe that Oklahoma State is better than they showed against Kansas State.

Regionals: Kansas, Michigan State, Georgetown, and Ohio State. No real surprises here. Plus, if you write “OSU” in your bracket for the winner of Ohio State and Okie State, you can’t lose!

Regional final. Kansas squares off against Georgetown; a team that can give the Jayhawks fits and even upset the juggernaut. I don’t see it, though – the Jayhawks are too good defensively.

Final Four: Kansas

WEST.

First-round winners: Syracuse, Florida State, Butler, Murray State, Xavier, Pittsburgh, BYU and Kansas State.

Syracuse is in Buffalo, and I hope that helps them fend off the Seminoles in Round 2. Gonzaga gets dropped because they’re a West-Coast team flying across the nation. Butler is my sleeper of the tournament, and Murray State is getting a lot of love, almost enough to scare me off of an upset of Vanderbilt.

Regionals: Syracuse, Butler, Xavier, Kansas State.

Xavier advances because of my long-standing Pitt policy. I lingered on BYU, because they can give Kansas State a hard time. And as you know, K-State is a team that will struggle on the second day of the tournament. However, BYU hasn’t seen the Wildcats either, and K-State’s quick defense in person should be tough for the Cougars to overcome. Butler will scare Syracuse to death, if not knock them off. And finally, I’d like to say that a Syracuse vs. Kansas State regional final wouldn’t be the end of my marriage. I’d like to say that.

But let’s just run with my pipe dream – I really, really want Syracuse to play both Kansas State and Kansas. If they could beat those teams in succession, that would be superfab for me. After typing that, however, I know I should pick Butler.

Whatever. This is my blog. You didn’t expect this?

Final Four: Syracuse.

EAST

First-round winners. Kentucky, Texas, Temple, Wisconsin, Marquette, Washington, New Mexico, Missouri, West Virginia.

Temple is grossly underseeded – that team is a 3-seed. And Cornell, for that matter, could be a No. 6. This game is my favorite of the first round. For whatever reason, I’m not sold on Marquette. Somehow they should have been a bubble team, yet were No. 5 in the Big East. Huh? Maybe Washington fulfills its potential. Let’s say yes. Wanted to pick Montana over Steve Alford and the Fighting Lobos, but couldn’t. Clemson vs. Missouri might be the worst game of round 1. How was Wake Forest a lock? Guh.

Regionals. Texas, Temple, Washington, West Virginia.

Texas upsets Kentucky.You heard it here first. I know, nothing in Texas’ history suggests they can pull this off. But I believe! Temple emerges through the gauntlet. Somehow. Washington takes down New Mexico. Take that, Steve! West Virginia struggles more than they should with Mizzou – but stop me if you’ve heard this – they win.

In an underrated regional final, West Virginia squeaks by Temple. I like this regional a lot. Lots of good teams, neither Kentucky nor Wisconsin nor Cornell nor Temple would surprise me coming out of the regional. West Virginia is the most efficient, and the best offensive rebounding team. That should get them through the lean minutes.

Final Four: West Virginia.

SOUTH.

At first I couldn’t care less that Duke somehow leapfrogged Syracuse to snare this bracket. Now I couldn’t be more jealous of the Devils’ supposed cakewalk. On we go.

First-round winners: Duke, Louisville, Texas A&M, Purdue, Old Dominion, Baylor, Richmond, Villanova.

I really hate this year’s crop of six-seeds. Siena is a popular upset pick over Purdue, but I sense too much chalk swinging away from the Boilermakers. They’re good enough to beat Siena. Everything else seems clear-cut.

Regionals: Duke, Texas A&M, Baylor, Villanova.

Again, almost a chalk bracket. I like Duke to narrowly get by Texas A&M – the Aggies get down and dirty and guard, but I think Duke’s perimeter play is just a bit better. Baylor and Villanova could top 200 points. I really like Baylor; this isn’t an unpopular stance – in fact, it scares me a little bit. But I think they beat Villanova, the Bears are slightly more sound.

Final Four: Baylor.

And in fact, I think it’s a brave new world once Baylor is in the Final Four. And they’re the biggest story – not just because of the resurrection Scott Drew has done after the wake of the 2003 teammate murder, but in the whole storied history of crappy Baylor basketball. In fact, with all those human interest stories, you’ll barely notice that Bob Huggins has made his second Final Four, and first since 1992, and first with West Virginia.

Much like 1996, one side of the bracket tilts toward juggernauts Syracuse and Kansas, and the other toward wunderkinds Baylor and West Virginia. In the end, the Jayhawks square off against the Mountaineers. (And for a K-State fan base enjoying one of their best seasons ever, this final is their personal hell.) And Kansas wins.

It’s just the conference tournament.

At least they’ll be rested.

At least this will scare the chalk away.

I would have rather played any team seeded 2-7 than schizophrenic Georgetown. This seemed ominous from the beginning.

I agree. Blueprint to beating Syracuse: Shoot nearly 70 freaking percent from the floor.

Tough to beat a team three times.

Does this always happen in the Big East tournament? Pitt and UConn last year. Syracuse nearly every time it’s seeded No. 1.

At 28-3, Syracuse probably was due, and if they were going to lose (twice in a row), better now than, well, you know.

That’s what I tell myself.

You know, as every Syracuse fan holds his breath, awaiting the news on Onuaku. (Gulp.) Hope DaShonte Riley and Mookie Jones are ready to play next man in. Looks ominous.

The ides of March. Welcome to the Madness, and brackets, and high blood pressure, I guess.

urnament.

Aaahhh. Here we go. Finally, the brackets are almost upon us.

Just the notion of “brackets” makes our weary, frantic world appear much more orderly, and much more riveting. Remember waiting in elementary school for the sixth-grade dodgeball bracket after school. How about Quiz Bowl or Debate square-offs?

Your adrenaline rushed to all-time highs in late spring, a member of the junior high traveling tournament basketball team, facing off other AAU teams in two-day stretches at a time. You even cheered at State Wrestling in high school. While you got drunk, of course. Now, even as a faux-chaperone for mock trial tournaments – involving law students, no less! – your blood coarses through veins.

Not only that, those sunny brackets infiltrate your persona: Now it’s you versus your pile of expense reports. Your grudge-match race to the breakroom with Cindy from receivables. Your death-defying weekend bout cleaning up leftover winter lawn refuse. When your cats guard the entryway, it’s you versus them. Don’t think they aren’t seeking revenge.

Suddenly, instead of navigating a gray Wednesday, you’re looking down the road to an upset-riddled path to greatness. It can happen! That’s what brackets tell you.

(At least, of course, until the impending tournament expansion as early as 2010. Don’t bother fighting it, it’s destined to happen. Even though the bulging of the field relieves coaches of accountability, and simultaneously murders the cash cows of Championship Week and Opening Weekend, it will happen. Who, exactly, is for this?)

And speaking of, here’s what we’re looking for when the greatest brackets of all are unfurled this Selection Sunday.

Read more

Since yesterday’s post detailing Bill Simmons’ egocentric foibles, the Sports Guy’s feud with former ESPN crank Keith Olbermann has escalated.

Today, Olbie took Bill further to task, with snide comebacks to each of Simmons’ snarky Friday tweets. I’m not sure who’s winning here, nor if any of this is even interesting. Really, though, aren’t Simmons and Olbermann alike? Could this feud actually be a concoction to drive Keith’s baseball traffic, or to excise Bill from the evil clutches of ESPN?

Alas, no one will ever know. Or care. Besides, Simmons is all square with me. How, you ask?

Well, I should point out that the Mister Faded Glory road to redemption isn’t exactly arduous … but during Bill’s Mar. 5 podcast with Chuck Klosterman, the Sports Guy re-earned his stripes. Discussing college basketball, Bill described Evan Turner’s return from injury, and I transcribe loosely:

“But, I mean, Evan Turner’s comeback from injury. This is a guy … (pause)…

Oh, wait. I sound like I’m on ESPN. HERE IS A GUY WHO … (giggles)…”

Yes, the road to my heart is short. Simply make fun of the ubiquitous “Here is a guy” syntax dotting jockspeak and poor context. An unnecessary prefix that makes you, another guy, sound stupid.

Bill Simmons, welcome home! See how easy that was?

In other news, the podcast was notable for Klosterman’s crazy/brilliant theory that ESPN and Nike are collaborating to engineer a dual NBA-NFL lockout in 2011 simply to promote soccer in the U.S. One of my readers is now giddy with joy.

Also notable about the podcast, it’s further demonstration I spend way too much time in the car. But, uh, here’s a guy who digresses.

On the heels of our recent film-inspired douche test (Remember? Synecdoche, NY? I rest.), I delve into further minutiae of pretentiousness. Today: one of the more obvious signs of a douchebag – the Keurig coffee pot.

For those unfamiliar with the Keurig drip-pod or K-Cup or whatever system; it’s the sleek, chic, super-expensive coffee pot that brews one tiny cup at a time. Instead of sifting through beans or grounds, you just drop in this pod, and the machine loudly unfurls nearly a tablespoon of tepid coffee.

I won’t confess to being a coffee snob, but I do like my sludge, and the stronger the better. I drink at least a travel mug every morning. Coffee fuels me, before I enter the soul-crushing world of corporate America. Yep. I’m like you.

But the Keurig thumbs its nose at that nonsense. With the Keurig, you can safely turn your nose up at breakroom or lunchroom coffee. Whereas us serfs will not eschew a cup from the cafeteria machine, even with stray grounds in the bottom, you can safely pass. Bully for you!

Now, again, I’m not a snob. Maybe I’m a purist? I don’t drink lattes or frappucinos or any of the stuff that makes you demonstrably fatter or poorer. I require only that my coffee be black as night – with a tangible bite, taste, and kick – and that it flows like the Nile. My coffee need be plentiful. With the Keurig, I get none of that.

How would I know? Well, I’ve got one. Yes, I do. But not only is your cup of Joe tiny and unfulfilling, once you’re a Keurig owner, you have the luxury of shopping for boxes of these K-Cup pod-thingys, made from the dregs of various coffee conglomerates’ beans or grounds. Green Mountain, Caribou, Tully’s, you name it – they all eagerly charge you thirty bucks for twenty thimbles of coffee, with a watery cup weaker than your standard Maxwell House scoop.

That’s right, Keurigs make weak coffee, and they don’t make enough coffee. Two settings exist on my model – puny and punier. Apparently I’m supposed to decide whether I want an espresso or a swallow. Which, I suppose, is fine in some instances – but it’s not fine when you can’t regulate the coffee amount. You drop in a pod, and you’re at the pod’s mercy. The pod controls the strength. Your role, as a coffee purist or gourmand, is finished!

But John, you say. You can buy one of those Keurig attachments that convert grounds into K-Cups! And that is true. For twenty dollars (NOTE: You can buy a full-fledged Hamilton Beach coffee maker for twenty dollars) I can have my Keurig converter. And, again, I do. I won’t bore you with the gory details – but just try and use one of these things. When your entire kitchen is covered in the converter’s wreckage, thousands of stray, messy coffee grounds, and you’ve got a sludge-filled half a cup, you’ll nod along with me.

So that’s the Keurig. If you like your coffee like a scalding cup of Aquafina FlavorSplash, I implore you – shell out your 200 bucks for the Keurig. Basically, it’s coffee drinking for those who want to convey an impression of coffee drinking, rather than your serious caffeine addict. Enjoy.