I was going to write this either way. Win or lose.
Every year in March I go to the Mountain West Conference Basketball tournament in Las Vegas. My friends and I always have a good time drinking excessively, gambling recklessly and acting obnoxiously as we cheer for San Diego State. It makes for decent #content and is a nice way for me to recap the weekend as I pound kale smoothies on the following Monday, desperately trying to apologize to my body for the hell I put it through.
But before we get to this past weekend, let’s go back a few months to the beginning of the 2017-18 basketball season. After three straight years of significant regression, I implored the SDSU basketball team to “Teach me to love again.”
When this season began in November, I could barely get myself excited enough to read a Mark Zeigler practice update (which is good because he blocked me on Twitter so I don’t know when they’re posted anyway). But here we are in March, and folks, I AM EXTREMELY BACK.
What: No. 19 San Diego State Aztecs vs. UNLV Rebels When: Saturday, October 7 at 7:45 p.m. TV: ESPN2 Line: Aztecs -9.5
What can you say?
We’re playing it straight this week. While we’re usually here to act like dipshits AND inform (yours truly leaning HEAVILY into the dipshit portion), what happened in Vegas this week requires we put on our adult pants and act right. So as much fun as we have going in on UNLV alum and human FryDaddy Guy Fieri, now is not the time.
Unless you only go for industry conventions or some such (LOL NERD), you go to Vegas to blow off whatever amount of steam you need to blow off. Tables, booze, naked folks, professional naked folks, conference tournaments, video games, “Backdoor beauty?”, the buffet at Westward Ho (RIP), a store just for M&Ms. Fifty eight people were murdered, almost 500 people were physically injured, and an untold number of victims will carry around mental scars for years because some maniac wanted to make them pay for having a good time. Or some other stupid reason. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Nothing will justify/explain it to a rational mind. Just know we love you, Las Vegas.
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.
Remember when you were a kid, and Christmas was the greatest, most exciting, happy event you could imagine? My favorite movie, A Christmas Story, summed it up perfectly:
“But no matter. Christmas was on its way. Lovely, glorious, beautiful Christmas, upon which the entire kid year revolved.”
Nothing else mattered. Whatever else was going on in the world, inside or outside your home, was moot. Christmas was coming and everything was wonderful.
As a 28-year-old, Christmas isn’t quite what it used to be. But now I have Las Vegas. Specifically, my annual trip to the Mountain West men’s basketball tournament is the week upon which the entire year revolves.