It has already been a few maddening days and we haven't even started the sprint to Indianapolis.
Gerry McNamara began the insanity by knifing through two defenders and throwing up a runner over the outstretched fingertips of Cincinnati's center. And by runner, I don't mean a simple seven-footer from the lane. No, this was the 22-foot variety that only, and I mean only, happens in March. It was a shot that should go down in history with those of George Tate, Tyus Edney, and Drew Nicholas.
The craziness continued into the post-game press conference when Syracuse coach Jim Boeheim challenged his own Orange press, claiming that their recent article labeling McNamara as "overrated" was ridiculous. Although he was correct in his opinion, Boeheim sounded like a new coach who was still a little wet behind the ears rather than an old salty veteran of the college game. He was talking as if he had never experienced criticism in his 20 years in the business.
Jim, you made out like a bandit in one of the most aesthetically lopsided marriages this side of Richie Sambora and Heather Locklear. Life is good; take it easy. Let your team's phenomenal play do the talking. The Syracuse media is still the media, and it therefore has the right to criticize, however inaccurately. It hasn't been the first time and won't be the last time that the press has messed up. Remember President Dewey? Me neither.
But the best part of the interview was watching McNamara sitting silently with his head down as Boeheim worked himself into a frenzy. Boeheim's demeanor was the polar opposite of the motionless McNamara, who looked like he had a quick lobotomy before the press conference. It wouldn't have surprised me the least bit if, when asked about Syracuse's chances, Gerry put on some black shades and, completely stone faced, muttered into the camera, "We're on a mission ... from God." And after this weekend, I might have actually believed him.
While attempting to process the insanity, ESPNEWS showed the reaction of a family of Bearcat fans immediately after McNamara's dagger. The parents were devastated, but it was their younger son who was really in pain. It made me grateful that I didn't go to Cincinnati because I couldn't imagine his devastation. Yet.
Then came Friday night and the atrocity committed by a one Andrew "bleeping" Olsen on all of Jumbo Nation. If you didn't see it, you're lucky, because it was gut-wrenchingly painful. With only a second standing between the Jumbos and a spot amongst the final eight, Olson threw up an off-balanced three with a Tufts defender in his face. And to the horror of those in brown and blue, it found its way into the bottom of the net.
Although the shot only sent the game into overtime, it might as well have given Amherst the victory. Prior to the shot, Tufts owned the momentum, dominating the offensive glass and staying one big play ahead of the Lord Jeffs in an absolutely thrilling second half. But during overtime, it appeared that the Tufts players were as shell-shocked as the Jumbo fans. The shots stopped falling and the dream season had a rather nightmarish end.
I felt like that Cincinnati fan - distraught, disillusioned, but most of all pissed off. I suddenly found myself hating Amherst with a newfound passion, as I'm sure was the case with many other Jumbos. But if you didn't see the game or you simply need more convincing to prove that Amherst is the apex of all that is unholy, let me be of assistance.
The college's name and its nickname, the "Lord Jeffs" come from Lord Jeffrey Amherst, a successful and famous British officer in the French and Indian War. However, his name has gone down in infamy because of the oppressive and inhumane tactics he used to eliminate the local Native American population. A letter of correspondence between Amherst and Colonel Henry Bouquet reveals that they first contemplated using the "Spanish Method" - hunting down Native Americans with trained dogs - to address the local Native American problem.
But Amherst decided not to. Why? It was not because it went against his morals. No, he approved of the strategy in principle. He just didn't have enough dogs. Instead Amherst is believed to have contaminated blankets with smallpox and then distributed them amongst neighboring Indian tribes. Gooooo Jeffs!!!
Then there is the founder and first president of Amherst, Zephaniah Swift Moore. Another real gem. Moore was the president of Williams College until 1821 when he resigned because he supported the unpopular idea of moving the college to Hampshire County.
But Moore did not leave empty-handed. He took faculty members and students, and it is also rumored that he stole a portion of the Williams library as well. Moore and his band of traitors settled in a little western Massachusetts town called, you guessed it, Amherst. There he became the first president of the newly created Amherst College, although I can't understand why. Was it because he displayed some of the "exemplary" personality qualities that Amherst was looking for in a president? Or were they scared he might leave with the local copy of the Illiad in the middle of the night?
Finally there is Amherst's current president, Anthony W. Marx. Although there is not a shred of evidence to prove this, I'm sure Mr. McCarthy would have had something to say about this interesting coincidence.
So what have we learned? In summation, Amherst College seems to have been founded by a thief and a traitor, named after a mass murderer, and currently run by a suspected communist. Basically Amherst is the "Nina Myers" of colleges. I rest my case.
