What in the Name of …

… the NBA Playoffs is happening exactly? The Boston Celtics … that’s right, the aging, lifeless, couldn’t-care-less, going-through-the-motions, not-going-to-win-the-2010-NBA-Title Boston Celtics … are tied at 1-1 with the mighty, top-seeded Cleveland Cavaliers after decisively winning Game Two (104-86) of their Eastern Conference Semifinal Playoff Series.

Oh, and for at least the first half and well into the third quarter, it looked for all the world like they were going to win Game One also, until King James (Lebron, as if anyone doesn’t already know that) spearheaded a courageous comeback effort to give Cleveland the win.

Brings to mind that classic adage ‘This is why they play the game.’

I’ll admit, I didn’t see this coming really, although I was impressed by how tough Boston looked against Miami in the first round. Granted, the Heat didn’t have what it takes to go far in the playoffs this year, but Boston looked like a completely different team than the out-of-sorts, inconsistent, who-gives-a-crap group that slogged its way through much of the regular season.

I guess they were saving it for the playoffs, which is kind of what a lot of these teams have to do these days, it seems. It’s a long-ass regular season, and these guys take quite a beating physically. It’s not the same type of beating that NFL Players have to put up with, but it’s a wear-and-tear on the body that has equally, or possibly more, debilitating effects that are caused in a different way. It usually makes me wonder how many times players are actually dogging it out there when they seem like they’d rather be anywhere else, or if it’s authentic exhaustion.

Either way, don’t look away just yet because the Boston Frigging Celtics actually have a fighting chance to dethrone the seemingly impenetrable Cavs. I can just see Lebron’s reaction if that happens. Last year after Orlando ousted Cleveland in the Eastern Conference Finals, it was pretty well publicized that James immediately fled the court and refused to speak with the media. He later acknowledged this, indicating that his frustration in those first stinging moments after such a loss got the better of him, but it seems insane that this far into his unbelievable career he is still without a championship ring – and still might be in June. Wouldn’t THAT be some shit.

There’s still a lot of ball left to play, but right now it looks like Cleveland will have to work its ass off to be the champ this year. It’s amazing how the tide can turn from regular season to playoffs. For those first 82 games, it appeared to be only a matter of time before the Cavs would be standing tall, trophy in hand and a grinning David Stern at their side in mid-June. During that same stretch Boston looked like a washed-up contingent of overpaid superstars coasting on their reputation and past glories.

Now? The C’s are putting on a clinic these days and looking tough, pissed off and ready to take down anyone. They’re obviously playing with a bit of a chip on their shoulder since, you know, whenever anyone talks about the teams with a shot to win it all this year Boston is immediately excluded from the conversation. Probably a mistake. Can’t wait to see how the rest of this series plays out.

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Oh yeah, as for those other series … well, Atlanta needed 7 games to put away feisty Milwaukee in Round 1 while Orlando put it in cruise control to beat Charlotte. The emergence of Jameer Nelson as a top-tier playoff point guard for the Magic takes them to another level. With their depth on the bench, Nelson running the point and Dwight Howard killing it on the boards and on defense, Orlando is going to be a tough out. The series with the Hawks hasn’t even started yet, but I’d put the Big O back into the EC Finals right now.

Out west, Utah was eliminated by the L.A. Lakers the last two years running in the NBA Playoffs. Who took Game One of their Western Conference Semifinals series Sunday? The Lakers. Who closed out game one? (which really could have gone either way) – Kobe Bryant. A lot of us would love to see the Jazz flip the script this year, but this type of stuff just doesn’t happen usually (especially to a team that loses its two most valuable big men going up against a squad with a couple of talented 7-footers in the low post – Pau Gasol and Andrew Bynum). Despite the best efforts of Deron Williams, Carlos Boozer and the rest of Utah’s team, Hollywood will likely move on.

And finally, we’ve got Phoenix vs. San Antonio, which should actually be a barn-burner of a series. Run-and-gun Suns vs. the controlled style of play from the grizzled veteran Spurs. Phoenix took game one, and although the Spurs have that patience and championship caliber of players, the Suns seem to have that look in their collective eye this time. Dudes like Steve Nash, Amare Stoudemire and Grant Hill want it bad this year. The Spurs are always going to be peskier than a roomful of fruit flies in July, but if we’re lucky, Manu Ginobili’s busted nose and one too many satisfied-with-previous-titles Spurs vets won’t be able to dig S.A. out of the fire this time. (Is it difficult to tell who I’d like to win this series, by the way?). Suns-Lakers would be one hell of an entertaining WC Finals.

Any thoughts? Anyone else mildly obsessed with the NBA Playoffs this year? What’s that? NHL Playoffs? Baseball? Yeah, I think I’ve heard of those things before.

The Passing of a Hip Hop Legend

I figured the news would barely be a blip on the musical radar screen, and boy was I unfortunately correct.

Keith Elam, a.k.a. MC Guru from the legendary Brooklyn hip hop duo Gang Starr, died this past week after a long but hardly-publicized bout with cancer, as well as complications stemming from a heart attack and subsequent heart surgery.

Throughout my lifelong hip hop education, I can think of few artists or acts that epitomize true hip hop the way Guru and Gang Starr did throughout Elam’s illustrious career.

You undoubtedly have heard people talk about ‘real’ hip hop countless times, with slightly varying definitions of what constitutes such. There’s the usual suspect list of descriptions: not selling out and remaining true to one’s artistic credibility and fan base that lent support since day one; lyrics and music that are creative in some way, or at the very least speak in a very real and true fashion about an artist’s personal experience. You get the idea.

But one of the highest compliments an artist can be paid is for a dyed-in-the-wool hip hop fan to describe that artist’s work as ‘real’ or ‘true’ hip hop. Being representative of what the art form, music, culture and lifestyle is all about.

Guru was this artist. Sadly, in the year 2010, real hip hop has transitioned into a weird place. It’s not entirely accurate to say it’s completely dead, but it certainly doesn’t wield the same power and influence that it did in Gang Starr’s prime (the early-to-mid 1990s, often described as the Golden Era of Hip Hop).

Gang Starr, however, was it, man. DJ Premier was and is one of the most talented beat blenders and turntable operators to ever get busy on the 1’s and 2’s. His body of work speaks for itself. And Guru? What can you say about this cat. His smooth, laid-back flow, precise delivery and intelligent, thought-provoking lyrics have been a blessing to the musical form. He never even really needed to drop F bombs or threaten your life to be menacing. His mic skills did all the talking. Case in point – tracks like ‘Take it Personal,’ ‘Now You’re Mine,’ ‘Words I Manifest’ and countless others. Guru has dropped thoughtful gems, aggressive gems, girl-problem gems, shout-out-to-Brooklyn gems, and even brilliantly composed Jazz-infused gems (check out his Jazzamatazz series of albums – pure genius).

Premier and Guru were a one-of-a-kind duo. Together, they combined to put out 6 studio albums, a greatest hits album (Full Clip) and both have contributed their talents to a myriad of other excellent hip hop cuts by fellow east coast/NYC area MCs over the years.

Guru, who rhymed that his moniker was an acronym for ‘Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal,’ has been largely absent from the musical scene in terms of putting out new material since Gang Starr’s last album, 2003’s The Ownerz. The ever-changing direction of urban music, coupled with Guru’s health problems, are likely the main contributors to this circumstance. But thankfully, Elam worked tirelessly during his prime years to create a healthy catalogue of timeless hip hop that will always be around for generations of fans old and young to discover.

To pick a best album or cut would be like trying to figure out what’s the most intolerable Billy Joel single, or what’s the best thing on the menu at Chipotle. In other words, don’t bother.

But for starters, GS’s 1992 album ‘Daily Operation’ is quite stupendous from start to finish, as are 1990’s ‘Step in the Arena’ and 1994’s ‘Hard to Earn.’ For individual tracks that are ripe with flavor, the type of songs that epitomize that true hip hop essence, check out ‘Take it Personal,’ ‘DWYCK,’ ‘Code of the Streets,’ ‘Soliloquy of Chaos,’ ‘Words I Manifest,’ ‘Mass Appeal,’ and ‘You Know my Steez.’

Support real hip hop and show Gang Starr some love, if you haven’t already.

A bunch of TV Randomness

* HBO, what the hell is wrong with you exactly? Why must you show ‘Training Day’ seemingly no less than four times a week lately, and almost always in prime time? How do you expect me to get anything else done when I see it on the program guide? Is there not some unwritten social contract being violated here? You know where to reach my people. Please, some more advance notice on the ‘Training Day’ airings on future such occasions. Please and thanks.

* Speaking of HBO, its original programming seems to be knocking them out of the park lately. ‘Treme,’ the new series about New Orelans residents attempting to keep on living life like regular people in the city shortly post-Hurricane Katrina, is showing a lot of promise after only its premiere episode. There’s also ‘The Life and Times of Tim,’ a hilarious tongue-in-cheek animated series about a mild-mannered, sarcastic pushover – the title character Tim – who can’t ever seem to buy a break, or ever scrape together enough dough to take out his blonde girlfriend Amy. The plots are typically over-the-top stupid on purpose (think ‘It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’), but it’s obvious when you watch it that the humor stems from the absurd nature of the writing, and most of the laughs end up coming out of the outrageous dialogue. Throw in new exciting other series like World War II-centric ‘The Pacific’ and fan favorites such as ‘True Blood,’ and it’s clear that the network is on the ball these days.

* I don’t know how the rest of this Game 1 first-round NBA Eastern Conference playoff series between the Orlando Magic and Charlotte Bobcats is going to turn out, but currently Magic point guard Jameer Nelson is absolutely abusing Raymond Felton and the poor Charlotte defense. This has been insane – Nelson has 14 points and there’s still about 3 minutes to go in the first quarter. I almost want to send Felton a sympathy card right now. This is mad embarrassing for the Bob-kitties.

* ‘Breaking Bad,’ one of The AMC Network’s two signature dramas, continues to surprise and entice viewers with an unending surplus of twists and turns that keeps viewers guessing what’s coming up next. I’ve definitely raved about this program before, and if you ever check it out (assuming you haven’t already), you’ll know why. Bryan Cranston is in the role of his lifetime as a crystal-meth cooking high school chemistry teacher who turns to drug making for cash when he learns that he’s been diagnosed with lung cancer and wants some cash around for his family when he’s gone. It’s gripping stuff that never pulls punches, but there’s just enough moments of subtlety, humor and gravitas so that you don’t crumble under the weight of the show’s ambitious constitution. If you haven’t ever seen it but are looking for an excellent drama, speed-order season 1 on DVD and get started. You won’t regret it.

* South Park, while still usually funny after all these years, occasionally tests my patience with the entire episode-long toilet humor type jokes. But this latest season has been overall extremely funny and topical. This past week’s episode, the first of at least a two-parter in which all of the celebrities the show has mocked in some way throughout its 13 years on the air are making a return, promises to be an epic moment in SP’s history. Mecca Streisand, the Super Best Friends and J. Lo-via-Cartman’s-hand-puppet-antics have all made a return, thankfully. Stay tuned.

Donovan has Flown the Coop

I should probably start by mentioning that I like to disassociate myself from the stereotypical example of the classic arrogant, loudmouth Philadelphia sports fan who loves to find lame excuses after a loss, runs his/her mouth incessantly without really possessing much of an intricate knowledge about the sport or players they profess to adore, and generally likes to start shit at the drop of a hat.

We all know that this is not representative of all Philadelphia sports fans. But the ones who don’t act like animals are too busy not acting like animals and caring about other stuff in life to possess a voice loud enough to counter the overbearing yell of the ‘loudmouths.’

This is how the actions and words of the negative few can create a scenario in which an entire fan base earns a reputation that is in no way indicative of the general overall group.

And this is why the departure of longtime Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb from the organization has been such a hot-button discussion topic over the past week since the news was announced.

McNabb, along with head coach Andy Reid, have been the whipping post through which all dissatisfied Eagles fans have expressed their frustration over the past 10 years, many (half – exactly) of which have resulted in advancing at least as far as the NFC Championship game, but sadly, rarely further. Except for the 2004-05 season, in which the Eagles lost the Super Bowl to the New England Patriots.

Also, most people realize it’s clear that primarily blaming one or two individuals for any type of failure in a team sport is also pretty damn stupid.

But like it or not, the head coach and the QB are the most visible and often vital components of a football team. These are the guys leading the way. And if a group doesn’t have a leader, then who’s taking charge during the rough patches and providing a presence of general guidance through the ups and downs of the season?

Now, I’ve been saying for quite some time, ironically agreeing with most of the ‘loudmouths’ and taking the opposing viewpoint of most practical, level-headed Eagles fans, that there has needed to be some sort of change or ‘shake-up’ in the whole Reid-as-coach, McNabb-as-QB setup. This isn’t to denigrate McNabb’s skills, which are considerable, or that of Reid’s (I almost can’t type that last part with a straight face).

But for anyone that has been a fan of this team or paid attention to it during the Reid-McNabb era, it’s become fairly evident that there’s something about the current regime that doesn’t feel like a Super Bowl winner. Yes, it is hard to overlook or completely turn away from the division titles, multiple NFC Championship game appearances and one Super Bowl appearance. However, it’s also easy to see how the fans get to feel like a carrot is being dangled in front of them every year and then promptly snatched away at the last second. Let’s not forget, Philly sports fans aren’t the most sympathetic or patient bunch to begin with.

The Phillies’ 2008 World Series and 2009 WS runner-up status has bought some good grace amongst the fans, but what the city truly craves is some football hardware. They want Philadelphia’s first Super Bowl trophy, and they feel like it should be there by now.

Unfortunately though, the thing about chemistry is that it’s impossible to predict it or bring it about intentionally. Through following sports for years, I’ve seen a lot of championship teams at the pro, collegiate and even high-school levels (the latter through having at one time been a sportswriter). And that un-definable chemistry is always there somewhere. You don’t know how it got there, but you know it when you see it. And if a team doesn’t have it – good luck.

Clearly, none of the Reid/McNabb-led Eagles teams has ever quite had that ‘chemistry’ factor in strong enough presence to produce a championship. You can only keep getting the same undesired result so many times before it makes sense to try something different.

While not knowing the exact circumstances that led to McNabb’s departure, I’d like to be cautiously optimistic that a change might re-energize the team’s current dynamic. Having said that, if I could have chosen I would have much rather seen Reid – along with his blank-stare, unbelievable late-game clock mismanagement and overall lack of enthusiasm for anything not fried-food related – hit the road instead of McNabb.

Not to mention that the Eagles didn’t seem to get the best return-on-investment for one of their most prized commodities. An additional second-round draft pick this year plus a third or fourth-round pick in 2011 isn’t exactly an outstanding ‘get’ for the Birds considering they lost the longtime engineer of their offense, inconsistent though he was at times. Oh yeah, and then there’s that issue of the now uncertain future at the QB position in Philadelphia. Kevin Kolb is next in line. He’s shown promise at times as more of a pure drop-back type of passer and a seemingly acceptable game manager, but nevertheless, kind of a frightening thought. Maybe the team will scoop up a promising young QB in a couple weeks at the 2010 NFL Draft.

One thing I do know – it will be a riveting 2010 season, especially in the NFC East now that McNabb will be wearing a Redskins uni, no matter what happens.

Another thing I think I can predict – even though it won’t be deserved for the guy who’s worked so hard for the Eagles over the past decade, the boo birds will be out in full force when McNabb and Washington visit Philadelphia this coming season.

Why does it feel so natural to root against Duke?

Look, you’ve got me. The 2010 Division I Men’s Basketball Champions are practically pariahs, for chrissakes. All I know is that it’s one of those stereotypical, everybody’s-doing-it kind of activities that still feels right, somehow. Unless you’re a Duke fan or have been since a wee child, there’s not much to hook you in and convince you to get behind the Blue Devils as a team. It’s a little bit like rooting for pizza to beat out all other foods in a popularity contest, or like pulling for the U.S. to be the wealthiest nation. Organically, stuff like this is going to fall into place sooner or later anyway.

Nobody is sitting around crying for Duke with each year that passes without a Blue Devils national men’s hoops championship. Because everyone who knows even a fart’s worth about college basketball is aware that they have the horses to win the title every year anyway.

Oh and I suppose there is also the inherent unlike-ability factor. Both Mike Krzyzewski and his players just always seem to be completely devoid of personality or, you know, pretty much anything that makes them in any way compelling. This doesn’t necessarily tarnish the impressive accomplishments of the organization, I suppose. By the numbers, Duke is still a model of excellence and consistency in the sport, and that’s what matters most. But when it comes to the bipartisan person, you aren’t going to have a whole lot of people getting behind the school that wins all the damn time anyway. Oh yeah, and the school that’s perceived to have one of the largest contingents of elite, rich, upper crust students.

You know what – congrats to them. They played the best. They won the title. But I can’t think of many people I know that were actually hoping Butler didn’t win that championship game. You want to talk about a longshot? A less-than-mid-major-conference school with an enrollment of less than 5,000 total students came within a last-second missed shot of winning the biggest prize in all of college basketball. This, presumably, is what sucks so many of us into March Madness each year – stories like that. Where even the barely casual followers of the sport become riveted at what’s unfolding. But when Duke beats Butler for the whole enchilada, it just seems like one great big tease.

Sure, the whole 2010 tournament was pretty thrilling – one of the best in awhile. But I have no problem admitting that no more than two seconds after the final buzzer sounded, I promptly changed the channel and didn’t turn it back. This is highly uncommon for me, by the way. I relish the moments to see any championship winning team in those first minutes after the final horn has sounded. To witness the sheer euphoria, the uncontrolled, organic human reactions that stem from the actual desired outcome after months, even years, of ass-busting hard work. There’s nothing like it.

But for Duke? Yeah, not so much interested in seeing them rejoice. Did they do anything to me to elicit these feelings about them? No, not really. But more importantly, I suppose it’s that they don’t do anything FOR me either.

Hip Hop and Ya Don’t Stop …

… Rockin’ to the Bang Bang Boogie said Up Jump the Boogie to the Rhythm of the Boog-a-da-beat.

Hell yes kittens. As promised last entry, the Playa is punching it up hip hop style, and what better time to do this than after the explosion of flavor I just witnessed Friday night at The Littlefield in the Gowanus, Brooklyn.

A fellow hip hop aficionado/friend of mine and I converged on this modestly-sized performance art space on Degraw Street to take in a concert sponsored by the National Black Writers’ Association. The acts?

First there was Talib Kweli, a fairly large name in the underground hip hop scene, who has sort of walked the mainstream tight rope with some popular, catchy crossover singles (“Just to Get By,”; “I Try”). His lyrics are more in the politically conscious vein, and his MC skills are quite superb. He is also known for having frequently over the years partnered up with another fellow Brooklyn-bred MC, Mos Def. The duo put out a well-received collabo album under the name ‘Black Star’ in the 2001-02 time period, spawning minor underground hits such as ‘Respiration’ and ‘Definition,’ the latter of which pays homage to Boogie Down Productions’ old-school classic cut ‘Stop the Violence’ by borrowing its chorus and re-wording it for a new-school update.

The headliner? The one and only Gil Scott Heron, a name not that well known in modern music circles, but please don’t get it twisted. Mr. Heron made his bones as a revolutionary African American musician and occasional spoken-word poet during the burgeoning, turbulent New York of the early 1970s, symbolizing the voice of the black poor and lower working-class in Harlem and other fringe NYC neighborhoods at the time. Works of his such as ‘The Bottle’ and ‘The Revolution will Not be Televised’ have stood the test of time as powerful works of artistic brilliance, and were hugely influential in what would go on to become the hip hop music we know and love today. His loops and vocals have been sampled by countless well-respected hip hop artists in the New York scene, and everywhere else. Well before The Sugar Hill Gang laid down the single that ‘started rap music,’ Gil Scott was already a legend in his own time.

I was honestly a little unsure of what to expect heading into this show. I’m not super familiar with the overall catalogue of work by either of these artists, but knew enough about them and had heard enough of their music to have an idea of what to expect.

Let me just say, there’s nothing like being pleasantly surprised. This was honestly one of the best live music shows I’ve seen in a long time. Even DJ Preservation on the wheels of steel was amazing with the pre-show warmup music, seamlessly weaving through a truckload of 45s on the turntables displaying his skills through a glorious soundwave of old-school funk, tribal African beats, 70s soul and countless other musical styles that provided a perfect backdrop for Friday night’s performers.

Best of all, the performers did their own thing wonderfully without stepping on each others’ grooves. Live hip hop shows are often nowhere near as satisfying as the recorded product. There’s often ancillary posse members on stage just for the hell of it, and too many cats up there with microphones shouting over each other and ruining the flow. Half the time, they’re not even on point with the rhythm of the music, and the whole thing just comes off sloppy.

Well my friends, no such thing on this night. Talib took the stage by himself, rocking the mic with only the DJ providing the music – the way it should be. And he put it down. He prowled the stage, sweating through a blistering set in the cramped space and moving the crowd like a real MC should. The melody in his songs came through perfectly, and the beats were tight. Not a weak song in the set.

After a break following his set, backed up yet again by some more heat rocks from DJ Preservation, out came the legend himself, Mr. Gil-Scott Heron. He spoke to the crowd the way he might an old friend, casually talking about his life experiences (including a few stints in prison over the past 10 years). The life experience in his voice was fascinating. His gravelly delivery and laid back, take-it-in-stride demeanor is probably the only way he’s still around today, after all he’s evidently been through in his life. His vocals were flawless. Have you ever been fortunate enough to see a live performer or singer who can’t possibly miss a note or sing something out of key because everything that comes out of his/her mouth is pure gold? That’s Gil Scott. Some cats are just born to sing. He’s one of them. He played his songs on an organ and just sang – simple yet effective. He was also laced with some harmonica by a fellow performer, and I would be completely remiss if I didn’t mention the saxophone stylings of another jazz bluesician legend who joined Mr. Gil Scott on stage, the legendary Gary Bartz.

All in all, a fabulous night of music, starting with a newer artist that represents true hip hop in the modern era (Talib Kweli), and ending it off by going back to the roots of what started it all, musical treasures Gil Scott Heron and Gary Bartz. These are the type of guys that laid the foundation for what artists like Public Enemy, Nas, Eric B. & Rakim, Jay-Z, EPMD, Slick Rick and countless others would turn into a musical movement that so many of us still know and love today.

Another one of those modern artists, one who was cut down way before his time, was the Notorious BIG. The 13th anniversary of his passing happened just a few weeks ago (March 9th), but you would never know it, aside from the occasional one or two-hour Biggie mash-up on your local urban radio station in memory of his greatness. This sadly proves that true hip hop, the real Golden Era stuff, is and has been dormant for a long time now. All that most of us have as a memory stick now is the glorious music and live performances of that era because as most of us know now, it’s not apparently present in any way, shape or form in the current urban music scene.

Many have theorized that when Biggie and Tupac died within a year of each other in 1996 and ’97, those two watershed events signaled the slow, metaphorical death of the art form (not just music scene, mind you) itself. It would be hard to argue that (but more on that for another time).

Those of us that love and revere true hip hop don’t just miss Biggie and Tupac. We miss the entire culture.

Fortunately, we have performances like Friday night’s at the Littlefield to remind us that true greatness isn’t completely dead. You just have to know where to look.

March Sadness

I am SO glad I didn’t fill out a bracket this year.

Anyone who knows anything about the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament is well aware that there are a fair share of surprises every year, some more than others.

But this season – hot diggity dog. I would have my swear jar filled to the brim with quarters at this point had I decided to enter a pool.

It’s not even about the fairly insignificant amount of money most people plunk down. Nobody really cares so much about 5, 10 or even 20 dollars that they should react as though they just found out they were one wrong digit away from a winning mega-Millions lottery ticket.

It’s about the frustration with finding out how wildly inaccurate your thought processes were when making your picks. This is especially true for self-professed sports nuts (right here!). Hell, I covered sports for a career at one time. I should know more than the average bear!

Dead wrong. Big mis-perception right there. Sure I might have certain insights into particular sports that are lacking in others who could care less about it. But when it comes to predicting winners of games, tournaments or other competitive endeavors? Please, spare me with the whole ‘research’ angle. It’s probably 85-90 percent dumb luck, and anyone who believes otherwise is fooling themselves.

This year’s NCAA Tournament is a perfect example. Kansas losing in the second round to Northern Iowa? Georgetown biting the dust in the first round against the University of Ohio? Cornell taking out Temple in Round One? Old Dominion and Saint Mary’s College advancing into the second round by knocking out programs such as Notre Dame and Villanova, respectively? Say WHAT? Eleventh-seeded Washington, from the one major-conference-that’s-getting-no-respect-this-year PAC 10 into the Sweet 16 with wins over Marquette (No. 6) and New Mexico (No. 3)?

See, we all know upsets are going to happen, but who the hell can pretend they have any well-researched, surefire theories as to which games will actually produce these upsets? It’s all anybody’s guess. And it’s not rocket science to predict things like “Oh this higher-seeded, major conference team has 2 starters out, so they might lose,” or “Gonzaga might be a number eight seed from a non-major conference, but we all know they’re capable of beating anyone at any time.” And those scenes don’t even always seem to play out as consistently as they used to. Traditional logic just doesn’t work anymore.

I enjoy the NCAA Tournament MUCH more when I don’t have a dog in the fight, and when I’m not checking my bracket sheet more than actually watching the games as I’m attempting to calculate whether or not I’m mathematically eliminated from winning some sort of prize, or trying to validate my sports acumen by holding up a mostly successful bracket sheet by the time the dust all settles.

College hoops is just insane. Too many alpha dogs are fleeing straight to the NBA after just one solid year of collegiate experience, as per the NBA’s one-year-of-college-minimum rule enacted a few years ago. And before that rule, it wasn’t at all uncommon for the best young players to go straight from high school to the big time, bypassing college hoops completely. I mean – can you blame these kids? Like Steve Miller said so many years ago, go on take the money and run. Right?

This leads to a scenario where accurately predicting March Madness success is much more difficult and tedious than ever before. The playing field is more level consistently now. We still have the landmark programs winning national titles for the most part (teams like Kansas, North Carolina, Florida, etc.). But the rest of the country has caught up in recent years. Murray State, George Mason and the U. of Ohio never seemed to make it as far as they do now when I was a young buck.

It’s fun as a spectator, but the opposite of fun if you’re trying to be a bracket expert.

Oh and by the way, I technically lied. My last entry indicated that my next would be about hip hop (you know, playa president and all). I promise that’s coming next. The 13th anniversary of Biggie’s death recently came and went without so much as a shout out, and that’s sad.

The art form of creative, boundary-pushing hip hop is as under-the-radar as it’s ever been. And that’s my word.