Nothin’ puts a skidmark on a party quicker than an “L”. All night Friday we were dipping nachos of hope into the salsa of naïveté. Talkin’ trash. Downin’ shots of hubris with chasers of audacity. Pimped out in our silver and blue, we thought we would win. We were wrong.
But after a few days of denial, anger, bargaining, depression then, finally, acceptance, we had an epiphany. Remember when Wolf Pack basketball sucked? Remember when making the conference tournament was a big deal? We’ve come a long way from those days baby. Now, when we don’t make the Big Dance, it hurts. It hurts more than we could have ever imagined and that’s good. We’re not wannabe’s anymore. We’re a full-fledged basketball school. That’s why missing the tourney makes us wanna sneeze in agony and blow the snot of remorse into the hankie of sorrow.
Got that “Little General?” Nevada is no longer a football school. Posting a mediocre record and losing a “Who Cares” bowl to the East Westchester Northstars (champions of the Southern Conference) just doesn’t cut it anymore. We’re all about the hoops now, baby. We wanna dance with the stars. Alas, not this year.
We did think we’d get into the N.I.T (Not Invited to the Tournament). Nope. Fate is cruel to hoops schools. No…we got the invite to the C.B.I. (Coulda Been In) Tournament. “Houston…Hello!” That’s cool with us. ‘Cause we remember when…and it ain’t gonna be like that no mo’. Nevada is all about the hoops now.
(8.-)
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