Butler, Baby Wipes, and Bilas...

How did I manage to schedule a 6 pm appointment on the day of the Men's NCAA College Basketball Championship?! For friggin' sake, I've got three different brackets taped to my living room wall, I started a blog as I have sold my soul to ESPN and CBS coverage of the tournament, and have a tattoo of Bryant Gumbal on my right butt cheek (okay the last one I promise was a joke).

Maybe two months ago when I set the date and time of the meeting I was subconsciously vacating myself emotionally from a potential and painful loss.

Well Butler's loss that is...

When my appt was over and I left the office around 8pm, I hesitantly turned the car stereo knob to the scratchy, barely audible, station broadcasting the game. I was fully expecting a blowout - to hear eardrum shattering cheers from Blue Devil fans. Surely Scheyer had delivered at least a Walmart sized Easter basket of threes by now.

To my satisfaction, I was completely wrong (insert "I am a glutton for punishment"). Butler was in fact down only by a deuce heading into the second half.

My drive home was speedy, albeit anxiety ridden. Probably the way Jay Bilas feels when he suspects his barber is leaving a bit too much on the sides of his normally militaristic buzzed do'.

You didn't have to get a ruler out to measure my hair, or at least the follicles standing erect on the back of my neck as my Swedish auto raced the streets of the Pacific Northwest searching for my living room's television signal. The radio blared sound bytes of close game and I couldn't help but fathom that this coach from Indiana, this guy with the boyish good looks and team full of Bullpups might just be able to pull of this Cinderella story.

Tenacious D (defense that is), kept the Bulldogs within a few points up until the last minute when they came within one -- a single basket separating them from modern day Hoosier status.

Hayward, the basketball man child, the player who I thought all season resembled a kid in my kindergarten class that sported a Kool-aid mustache everyday, had a chance to win it, but in a flash of glory, his shot just barely missed.

Zoubek's free-throw sealed the victory for Dukies everywhere -- the game was over and the Cinderella story was history. The carriage that pulled Butler to the championship game turned back into a pumpkin.

On the other hand, as a fan, I couldn't have wished for a more intense final five minutes. This was no blowout. The school with barely 4,000 students produced a team worthy of rivaling any Big East, SEC, ACC, or Whatever CC, the tournament had to throw at them.

Coach Steven's team put up a valiant effort. He's friggin' 33 years-old. In fact I believe -- about as old as one of Bill Raftery's ingrown toenails!

The Bulldogs will be back-- not the Diaper Dandy's of this season. I envision them sporting "Pull-ups" and refusing the Baby Wipes next year. Sorry Dick.