Remember last week when I wrote about how my annual trip to Las Vegas for the Mountain West Conference Tournament is the highlight of my year and the weeks leading up to it are filled with giddy anticipation of the delightful frivolity to come?
Well fuck that. That version of me is dead. I am now in post-Vegas recovery mode and I hate everything.
After the dumbfounding mediocrity of the regular season, the glory of the first two games of the Mountain West Tournament had us all dreaming of a storybook ending for our SDSU men’s basketball heroes.
There shall be no storybook ending for our SDSU men’s basketball heroes.
The Aztecs bowed out to Colorado State 71-63 in the semifinals on Friday night/very nearly Saturday morning in Las Vegas. The grim demise came after leading – often dominating – for most of the way; about as fitting an epitaph as you can write for this year’s squad, actually.
A little less than two months ago, a buddy and I went to a bar in North Park to watch the Aztecs-Boise State hoops game. We were the only two people in the establishment who gave a shit, to be sure, and I got a big eye roll from the bartender when I asked her to change one of the nine TVs showing NFL Network highlights onto ESPNU or whatever jerkwater channel the game was on. Then SDSU proceeded to suffer probably their most brutal, listless, depressing loss in a season of stanky-ass losses.
As you can imagine, I spent that night feeling kind of crappy about my choice of hobbies and my priorities in general.
Right now I’m writing this blog post in the middle of the night (thanks, 8:30 start) one day removed from an international flight and with a long day at work and a 9:30 p.m. game time (fucking hell) looming tomorrow. And you know what? At the moment, I’m good with it.
The San Diego State men’s basketball team, forced to suit up for the play-in round of the Mountain West tournament for the first time ever, overcame a horrific first half to beat the UNLV Runnin’ Rebels 62-52 in overtime. It was a really exciting game in a “this shouldn’t be remotely this stressful” kind of way. It was a game that affirmed the old adage: Never question the heart of a six seed.