March Insanity

I’m not a basketball fan. And it has nothing to do with the game itself.
It’s the squeaky shoes.
For some, it’s nails on chalkboard that makes them crazy, for me: squeaky shoes. Squeak, Squeak, Squeak…the entire game, it’s all I hear (well, that and the incessantly loud, early 90’s tunes….answer me this: If everyone is in an enclosed space, and we are a captive audience, is there a particular reason that the music must drown out every other noise in the building? Including, but not limited to, conversations with the person sitting next to you? Are the cheerleaders that dumb that they need a loud audio-visual cue to get up and do….something?)
The Schwab enjoys a good college basketball game (surprised?), so we did, in fact, attend a few Pitt games this year. I’m grateful for the great seats we scored and the t-shirts catapulted into the crowd that so excited the 5-year-old sitting next to us, but still.
The shoes.
They are distracting.
Perhaps I should also admit here that I was more transfixed by Louisville having hired hands to put together a comfy seating arrangement on the court every time there was a break than by the actual scoring of points. Hey! I already said I’m not such a fan of the game!!
Anyway, the Schwab has been transfixed by March Madness and his bracket nonsense, yet again this year. Pitt bowed out early, but that didn’t free up time for the Schwab to join me in raking leaves and pruning shrubbery….. nope, he was glued to the T.V. and the assortment of games.
I hear the Final Four is this weekend.
I know who’s in it, but not the particulars, but, I’ll pick UCLA. California is a nice place. Ben Howland seems cool.
We are (fingers-crossed) supposed to have nice weather.
I bet I will be tackling the backyard leaf explosion by myself.