9301100932
DETROIT FREE PRESS
930319
Friday, March 19, 1993
METRO FINAL
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1993, Detroit Free Press
PITY THE BASKET CASE AT TOURNAMENT TIME
TUCSON, Ariz. -- "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been 12
months since my last confession."
"Go on, son."
"I need help. My marriage is in trouble. My family is in danger. My job is
on the line. And it's all because of basketball."
"Basketball?"
"Yes. College basketball. The NCAA tournament. This cursed March Madness.
Every year it comes around, and every year I get hooked. I can't stop
watching. I'm a man out of control."
"Tell me your troubles, son."
"Well, it starts with something small. Like Texas Tech against St. John's.
I tell myself, 'I'll just watch the second half, and then I'll take the kids
to the movies.' But before the game is over, they start talking about the next
game. And I want to watch a little of that. Then the next game. And then the
next.
"Soon it's after midnight, and I still haven't moved, I'm lying in front of
the TV, with my 12th bag of Doritos, watching Temple play Montana."
"Missouri."
"Huh?"
"Temple played Missouri."
"Oh . . . well, anyhow, Father. It's ruining my life. My wife says she's
leaving me. She started packing last night. I said, 'Honey, don't go. I'll be
there in just a . . . WOW, WHAT A SHOT!' "
"What happened?"
"She drove away."
"I mean the shot."
"Oh. Charlie Ward, from Florida State, made this long jumper to help beat,
who was it, I think--"
"Evansville."
"Goodness, Father, you're so knowledgeable."
"Go on, son."
Job takes a dive in office pool
"It's not just my wife. My job is in danger, too."
"How's that?"
"I volunteered to run the office pool for the tournament. So I spent all
day Monday Xeroxing brackets. All day Tuesday distributing forms. And all day
Wednesday collecting money. On Thursday, I was so frazzled that when someone
came to my desk and asked what I was doing, I said, 'TAKE A NUMBER, PAL, LIKE
EVERYONE ELSE!' "
"That's not a sin."
"It was my boss."
"Ah."
"He sent me home, told me not to come back until I got my mind on my work.
I was so depressed, I turned on CBS. Next thing I know, I'm rooting for Ball
State to upset Kansas. It was terrible."
"Why? Kansas won."
"I meant my job. Father, are you listening?"
"Of course, son."
"What am I going to do? My brain is swimming with March Madness. I keep
humming songs about New Orleans. I try to sleep by counting Wolverines. When
someone says, 'How do you think the Tigers will do this year?' I say, 'Which
ones, LSU, Memphis State or Missouri?' "
"Or Tennessee State."
"Huh?"
"The Tennessee State Tigers. No. 15 seed in the Southeast."
"Father?"
"Yes?"
"Are you all right?"
"Of course, son. Go on."
The ultimate nightmare
"I'm losing control. I call Sports Phone every 10 minutes. I go to my car
to hear radio games. My neighbors complained my ESPN "SportsCenter" was too
loud, so I went to a sports bar that had 50 screens with highlights. I went
nuts! I ran from one screen to the other, taking notes like a madman!
"Then I got in this really stupid argument."
"Over what?"
"Over who's a better player, Anfernee Hardaway of Memphis State or Jamal
Mashburn of Kentucky. I said Hardaway. He said Mashburn. I got really mad. I
even used a few curse words."
"That was foolish."
"I know."
"Mashburn is a much better rebounder."
"Huh? . . . Hey, what's going on here?"
Riiiiiipppp
"You're no priest, you're Dick Vitale!"
"TIME OUT, BABEEEEEE!"
"God, you're everywhere."
"Don't call me God. Dick is fine."
"Isn't this the confession booth?"
"No, it's the broadcast booth."
"Oh . . . GOD!"
"Call me Dick. Please."
"I gotta get home! I'm going INSANE!"
"Well, go ahead, son. But before you go, remember. Those Delaware Blue
Hens, coming from nowhere against Louisville, Denny Crum could be in trouble!
Could be UPSET CITY, BABEEEEE!"
"Dick! DICK!"
"Yes?"
"What about my problems? My wife? My job? Don't you have any advice for
that?"
"Sure."
"What?"
"Say five 'Hail to the Victors' and call me in the morning."