Fifth Annual Super Bowl Prediction (By Previewing Absolutely Nothing Related to Football)

When Alabama battled Georgia in college football's title game, that moment in time seemed destined to be the pinnacle of delirious and rabid fanbases gathering together for a football game in 2018. And possibly, the history of the world. The National Football League, obviously cognizant of a need to replicate an event to compete with that claim, arranged a hold my beer response to give us the Super Bowl clash that awaits us on Sunday.

We could have had the Minnesota Vikings, a franchise known for its playoff plight more than anything else, play in a Super Bowl in their home stadium. We could have had the Jacksonville Jaguars, a franchise known for wallowing in irrelevance during essentially its entire existence, playing in a Super Bowl after going 3-13 last season. Instead, we get a match-up between Philadelphia, a city dangerously close to purging itself after any victory of note, and New England, a region where Super Bowl victories are commonplace, yet their fans still act like they've never been there before.

Regardless, you should know the drill at this point. We'll take a look at several off the field factors to arrive at a robust and scientific analysis for who will win the Super Bowl. For the haters and doubters for which there are many, this method is an extraordinary 2-2 at pegging the winner. Let's get that to an unfathomable 60 percent this year. 

1. Dilly Dilly

Nothing unanimously unites Americans these days, but Bud Light has come about as close as you can get behind their Dilly Dilly campaign. These ads have dominated conversation during the NFL season, and they seem poised to have enough ammunition in the reserves to ensure Doritos and your other favorite Super Bowl advertising stalwarts end the night in the pit of misery. Philly rhymes with Dilly, and you can't dispute the fact that has to mean something. Philadelphia is also home to Wawa, and that's also a silly word that nobody truly understands that's been able to create a fervent obsession. Congratulations Eagles, you're actually getting two points for this category. Go get yourself a hoagie to celebrate making Athletic Acumen Super Bowl prediction history

New England: 0     Philadelphia: 2

2. The Process

Are you familiar with the idea of a polymath? It refers to an individual whose talents and areas of expertise are numerous. Benjamin Franklin, arguably the most important resident in the history of Philadelphia, was one. His many roles (according to the polymath of Internet encyclopedias, Wikipedia) include author, printer, political theorist, politician, freemason, postmaster, scientist, inventor, humorist, civic activist, statesman, and diplomat. 

Philadelphia is currently home to a far more cultured renaissance man by the name of Joel Embiid. His many roles include basketball player, social media troll, on court troll, humorist, pettiness theorist, diplomat to Cameroon, and process inventor. If you find a way to one up one of our country's most legendary individuals, you earn your city's NFL team a point. 

New England: 0     Philadelphia: 3

4. Rob Gronkowski had 69 receptions during the 2017 NFL season. This is the nicest stat in the NFL's nice history, and the most compelling and nicest evidence to date the Patriots are just nicely trolling us all. 

New England: 1     Philadelphia: 3

5. Justin Timberlake

While researching this post, I learned Justin Timberlake is nearly four years younger than Tom Brady. I can't stop the feeling I'm wrestling of whether or not that makes sense or if that's the most unexpected thing I'll learn this year. Tom Brady is getting all the attention for seemingly having no intention of saying bye, bye, bye to football anytime soon at age 40, but Justin Timberlake brought sexy back more than a decade ago and he's still reinventing himself. It's gonna be May(be) his greatest accomplishment to date if his new Memphis inspired album charts well. Ageless wonders will be everywhere in Minneapolis this Sunday, and New England fans can rock their bodies at getting another point.

New England: 2     Philadelphia: 3

6. Amazon

Jeff Bezos' company has been in the news a time or two this year. Most recently, Amazon has been attached to a venture to fix health care, in addition to releasing their list for the 20 cities still in the running to land their second headquarters. Coincidentally both Boston and Philadelphia are finalists. Alexa, did Bezos arrange this Super Bowl to allow for the two cities to compete for his attention on a national stage? I assume we will never know for sure, but I do know Boston is apparently a heavy favorite according to betting markets. Another point for New England. 

New England: 3     Philadelphia: 3

7. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Paddy Pub's motley crew of employees comprise arguably the strongest cast of a comedy this past decade. Not led by any one star, their chemistry, quirkiness, and ingenuity leads to a consistently, tremendous show. However, the show's inability to ever get the recognition and accolades it believes it deserves led it to actually satirize the matter (Season 9's The Gang Tries Desperately to Win an Award). 

Sans Carson Wentz I feel like you could make the case the Eagles probably feel the same way. After being an underdog twice in a row on their home field, and now combined with New England's star power, you get the feeling few people think Philadelphia stands a chance. Just like Charlie, Dee, Mac, Dennis, and Frank, though, the team marches on delivering strong performance after strong performance. And just like the gang did in The Nightman Cometh, I like their chances to deliver on the biggest stage. 

New England: 3     Philadelphia: 4

8. The 2006 Film, Invincible 

The analogy comparing Nick Foles to Rocky Balboa and Tom Brady to Ivan Drago would have been too easy to make. In case, I want to focus on another sports movie centered on Philadelphia. Based on the true story of Vince Papale, Invincible is a manifestation of the blue collar attitude associated with the city. 

Here's the issue, though. Mark Wahlberg was cast to play Papale in the movie. A man who bleeds clam chowder. A man who exudes a little too much Masshole. A man who left Super Bowl 51 early even though he's a diehard Patriots fan. In fact, let's dock both teams a point for their association with him. 

New England: 2     Philadelphia: 3

9. The Game of Thrones Angle Literally Nobody Has Noticed

-Fact: Minneapolis won their Super Bowl bid behind a campaign marketing themselves as the north, which they correctly believed would get a boost from the resounding success of Game of Thrones. Thus, the Vikings became the Kings in the North.

-Fact: Philadelphia players and fans have worn dog masks in the past few weeks to embrace their underdog roles. Including when they defeated the Kings in the North who were forced to travel south to what they thought would be lands of familial love. After the Red Wedding and following important conquests in the future, House Bolton made it a point to pride around in direwolf heads.

-Fact: Philadelphia is now travelling north to invade the Kings of the North palatial home. House Bolton decided to claim the Stark's fortress of Winterfell for their own.

-Fact: The Kings of the North eventually took back their home against the sadistic Bolton's forces. 

That seems like a foolproof, surface level theory proving the Philadelphia Eagles are House Bolton. That means some member of the Vikings (My bet is Teddy Bridgewater, who I think you could make the case is equal parts Arya and Jon Stark after his past eighteen months) is going to find a way to kill every last member of the Eagles' 53 man roster to let House Stark reclaim its home. That would make it easy for the Patriots to win the Super Bowl. The Eagles got two points for one category earlier, and I'm giving the Patriots the knockout win as a result of these eerie circumstances. I regret not dedicating 5,000 words to expanding on this. I'm basically passing up on a Pulitzer. 

New England: 4     Philadelphia: 3

OFFICIAL PREDICTION: New England: 28     Philadelphia: 24

J. Nave

  

Tua Tagovailoa's Accomplishments Are Fake News

If a 22 year old writes a blog that he advertises solely on his Facebook page, is he a part of the mainstream media? I'm hoping the answer to that rhetorical question is yes. Because if it isn't, what I've written below no longer serves its purpose as vehemently campaigning for an award The Athletic Acumen so desperately needs: The Most Dishonest and Corrupt Media Award for Sports Blogging.

Alabama's (former) backup quarterback, Tua Tagovailoa, is now a legend in Tuscaloosa even if he never completes another pass in his career. When you win a national championship with a walk off touchdown in overtime against a conference rival, you're entitled to never pay for a drink near your college campus for the rest of your life (Of course not until he graduates, though... And of course not until he turns 21, too).

Here's the thing, though. Why are we so quick to praise Tagovailoa? His game winning throw was made on a play I mastered by the time I was ten years old thanks to the NCAA Football video games: Four Verticals.

Watch the replay from behind Tagovailoa, fellas. It should look familiar from your Xbox or PlayStation days. I could've gone in there, "looked off" the safety, and dropped a dime to the receiver the defense inevitably fails to properly cover (Normally, it's the tight end over the middle for the record). This play should be called on every down. It can't be stopped, no matter how the defense opts to counter it. I attempted to stop it for thousands of hours with every coverage scheme you can possibly call. I won Heisman trophies for mediocre tight ends with this play. I beat programs like Notre Dame, Florida, and Texas with the University of Louisiana-Monroe Warhawks with this play. I believe any guy in between the ages of 18-33 could've beat the Dawgs if put in Tagovailoa's shoes after calling this play.

Also, from a narrative perspective, why are we acting like Tagovailoa is a unicorn? He brings nothing new to the table. He's essentially a recycled combination of three of the biggest stars in the past decade of college football all rolled together, and the saying is not one man's trash is the same man's treasure.

A left handed quarterback with the initials of T.T. who isn't shy about sharing his faith? Tim Tebow already made three careers out of this act. A humble leader in the huddle from Hawaii who displays more poise than most of his peers? Marcus Mariota already bores millions of football fans in between his fewer and farther between flashes of brilliance. A backup quarterback who leads his team to a championship? Cardale Jones was a third string quarterback when the season began, started three games to lead his team to a title, and learned how to play school in the process. A common adage is if you have two quarterbacks you actually don't have one. So if you have three media narratives, don't you truly lack any semblance of an entertaining personality?

Most importantly, not enough people are questioning whether Tagovailoa is about to be responsible for the decline of the Alabama dynasty. Nick Saban declared after the game he'd never been happier in his life. I'm concerned by this because he let himself crack quite the exuberant soft smile at least a half dozen times in the post game celebration. Just maybe he was being serious?

This is a man who is obsessed with winning. This is a man whose middle name is relentless. This is a man who I think may have stored Tagovailoa on his bench the whole season only to unveil his own Keyser Soze level plot twist on the college football world when his team needed it most. 

But did it backfire on him? Has he become soft after seeing just how powerful this trump card was? Is he about to find a higher calling in life? We may not get our answer until the fall, but what if the Crimson Tide rolls into Oxford, Fayetteville, or Knoxville and loses next year after an undisciplined week of practice? What if this was the pinnacle moment and crown jewel for Saban's football career? We may look back on January 8th, 2018 as Nick Saban's rat poison. People forget he hasn't won a national championship following Tagovailoa's heroics. 

You're probably thinking this is far-fetched, and I wouldn't blame you. However, do you remember where I said Tagovailoa was from a few paragraphs ago? The Hawaiian Islands have a tradition in their culture where the same word functions to say hello and good bye. Sure, Tagovailoa may have said aloha to the whole country and championship glory on Monday night. But he may have also given college football's kingpin an epiphany that it's now time to walk away and say aloha to the living rooms of 17 year old kids around the country.

Tua Tagovailoa has only played thirty decent minutes of football in his life, yet the media wants you to believe he's won three Heisman trophies and broken every record in the history of the sport. This is a joke. He is a fraud. If he wants to prove me wrong, he can start with winning the starting job in spring ball. 

J. Nave

Are Millennials Going to Kill Tiger Woods Next?

I'm a huge fan of sports, but I'm an even bigger fan of the holidays. There's no better time to reflect on the past year, dream about the year to come, and cherish every blessing in the world with your loved ones. The only issue is there's significantly less to treasure this year because millennials are in the midst of a genocide where every institution, business, and activity is in danger.

Buffalo Wild Wings? "All the essentials" weren't enough to save your wings, beer, and sports. Macy's? You may encourage people to believe, but millennials learned Santa isn't real years ago and they're responding with a vengeance to make departments stores as nonexistent as Santa's workshop. Home ownership? Millennials are here for a good time, not a long time. Dogs are a far better investment than signing on to any 30 year fixed mortgage rate you can offer.

There's even a sport thought to be in the cross hairs of millennials now: Golf. It's hard to carve out four hours on the weekend to play when you spend every Sunday morning at a bottomless mimosa accompanied brunch. It's even harder to afford a country club membership (or even golf clubs... or even golf balls... or even a golf glove) when you're bunkered by an avalanche of student debt.

Golf valiantly fought its way back into the spotlight a few weeks ago. How? A battered, bruised, and maligned hero by the name of Tiger Woods rose from the ashes to resurrect his battered, bruised, and maligned sport.

The Hero World Challenge, an event actually hosted by Woods every year, marked Tiger's first competitive event since the Adam and Eve of the millennials tasted avocado toast for the first time. Tiger roared out of the gates early (I'm the first blogger to ever utilize that pun) seemingly ready to make golf great again. A stumble on Saturday proved fatal to Woods' chances, but the consensus across the board was Tiger Woods is once again on the prowl (I'm also the first blogger to ever use that pun).

The image of one of the sport's all time greats stalking today's stars, with the backdrop of Augusta's azaleas in April and donning his cardinal red on Sunday, is tantalizing. The prospects of Woods' back holding up long enough to make a serious charge at Jack Nicklaus' major record could dominate headlines for the next couple years, especially if he claims a title this year. The mere impact of Woods' presence at a few tournaments this year could have in reviving interest in the sport shouldn't be discounted.

There's a potentially insurmountable obstacle preventing Woods from turning those dreams into reality, though. Golf currently has a crop of millennials licking their chops at the opportunity to turn Tiger into prey. This generation has been conditioned to beat Tiger if you think about it. Whether it was Drake rapping about making friends with Mike but needing to A.I. him for your survival or Ricky Bobby providing the cure for instant gratification by preaching if you ain't first, you're last, the life lessons are ready to be tested. Not to mention, the short attention spans of this generation won't allow for them to focus for long on Woods making a run during a tournament's final round. With this combination of nature and nurture, Tiger Woods is objectively doomed.

All kidding and popular stereotypes about the generation aside, these guys who have been winning tournaments in Woods' absence are good. Many of them have been scrutinized for not embodying the necessary killer instinct to ascent to Woods' level of dominance, but a factor not discussed enough is the role parity has played in this.

Rory McIlroy, Jordan Spieth, Jason Day, Dustin Johnson, and most recently Justin Thomas have generated grumblings of being anointed golf's next big thing after performances in past seasons. Not only have they had to battle each other on Sundays, they have had to contend with resurgent veterans in the likes of Bubba Watson, Phil Mickelson, Matt Kuchar, Henrik Stenson, Justin Rose, and Sergio Garcia and a steady pipeline of younger players, most notably Hideki Matsuyama and Jon Rahm, pumping out new stars with each major. And if his performance at the Hero Wold Challenge is any indication, Rickie Fowler, arguably the most marketable player on Tour, may be done playing groomsman to his friends in 2018.

Casual fans are going tune in and turn out in droves to catch a sight of Tiger at tournaments in the months ahead. They'll elbow to the front of the ropes to catch his unfathomable distance off the tee. They'll dream of his magical short game conjuring up more thunderous roars. They'll feel the need to channel his tenacity and competitive spirit in their own walks of life.

But imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. These fans will see golfers overpowering a course nowadays is a dime a dozen. They'll hear delirious celebrations from several holes away, but they'll be a result of Jordan Spieth's latest hole out from a greenside bunker. They'll see these millennials aren't plagued by a sense of entitlement, because just like Justin Thomas, they want to kick their role model's ass.

Millennials kill staples of American culture by the day. Tiger Woods may be an icon unlike any the game of golf has ever seen, but I'm bearish on his chances of ever winning another tournament, let alone a major. His back surgery may take the brunt of the blame if he fails to deliver, but don't let this narrative fool you. This Snapchat loving, fancy cocktail drinking, and Chinese knockoff basketball jersey wearing foursome is about to hunt the title dreams of Tiger Woods' little snoozes into extinction.

J. Nave

Ohio State Needs an Urban Revival

An insensitive, topical, trite, and/or arrogant sports blogger could have titled this post a number of things. John Kasich Needs to Declare a State of Emergency in Ohio... Urban Meyer: On the Brink of Another Fake Heart Attack?... Should J.T. Barrett Go Play School?... Thankfully, even after a four month hiatus, I am none of those things.

Drowning in the hot takes regarding this past weekend's most pivotal college football tilt, however, I felt summoned to return to the keyboard to examine a narrative getting overshadowed by Baker Mayfield's apology for his attempt to replicate Ohio's own Neil Armstrong by planting an Oklahoma flag in Ohio Stadium's AstroTurf. To be completely honest, I wish the new Heisman front runner would've channeled his state's history and school's mascot and "planted" the flag sooner. Like before the game to call his shot sooner. He could've even avoided any criticism by citing he was inspired by Ohio State infamously tearing down Michigan's banner in the 1970s (Baker, if you're reading this, hit me up. I've got some more ideas for your brand and Heisman campaign).

Nevertheless, that aforementioned narrative is the fact Urban Meyer has been outcoached in five straight games. Thanks to sheer talent advantages across the board and a couple controversial inches if you ask Jim Harbaugh, Ohio State has managed a 3-2 record in those contest. For most programs, that wouldn't be too damning. THE Ohio State University football fans will be the first to tell you the Buckeyes are no ordinary program, though. 

Let's look at those five games. Lackluster offense and a narrow win over a 3-9 Michigan State team was brushed aside because of the budding rivalry in recent years. A victory over Michigan will never draw widespread questioning, even though the offense failed to move the ball for much of the game. The goose egg against Clemson was such a resounding third strike nearly the entire coaching staff on that side of the ball was let go. To kick off this season, Ohio State looked stagnant for 30 minutes against Indiana. They raised the bar to a whole new level this weekend when they turned Oklahoma into a suddenly stout defense for an entire game. Consider this your friendly reminder that a stout Big 12 defense is the definition of an oxymoron. 

Any and all blame has now shifted squarely onto the shoulders of J.T. Barrett. Many people think Harvey Dent was foreshadowing his own destiny when he said you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain, but I'm starting to believe his prophecy was in reference to Barrett. Without his play in the 2014 campaign, the Buckeyes would have never won a national title, and Barrett will soon pass Drew Brees for most touchdowns responsible for in Big Ten history. He has overwhelmingly carved out his place in Buckeye lore. Teammates have rallied behind Barrett and praised his invaluble leadership in the face of criticism this week. 

But heroic loyalty and nostalgia don't help win football games. At this point, JT Barrett is a grotesque hybrid of the Manning brothers in the 2010s. His regression on the field is as depressing and difficult to watch as Peyton's fall from grace, while his facial expressions on the sidelines of late have looked as dead and emotionless as Eli's meme generating stares. To make matters worse, Urban Meyer said he was concerned about his quarterback's confidence earlier this week. 

It's statements like those why I'm most concerned about Ohio State's prognosis for 2017 and beyond. Meyer vaulted Alex Smith up draft boards to get selected first overall in the NFL Draft. Meyer's system got Tim Tebow selected in the first round of the NFL Draft (You could have probably had a compelling debate about which accomplishment was more impressive up until last week when Alex Smith torched the Patriots). It seems blasphemous to suggest, but given Meyer's offense is now the reason a mob is calling for Barrett's benching, is it possible its his scheme that has become stale and most responsible for the struggles?

The threat of a vertical passing game is nonexistent. Hell, the idea of the threat of a vertical passing game is nonexistent. The supposed power spread attack abandons the run game and its talented backs in the Buckeyes' biggest outings. Adjustments and trends by opponents have left the trademark pace of Meyer's offense in the dust. Hesitation and confusion now cloud what used to be clear and prescient reads. A quarterback counter where Barrett slogs ahead for a yard or two into the heart of the defense appears to be its staple play for some reason. There have been points in the past twelve months where I've had more confidence in the defense to get on the scoreboard. If this current progression stays par for the course, Meyer won't be able to clean house again to avoid a majority stake in the blame. 

I want to affirm I'm not calling for a coach who is 62-7 to be fired. I simply find it curious Meyer is not facing more anger from Ohio State fans, many of whom are constantly chomping at the bit to share a critique whenever anything scarlet and gray shows signs of going awry. It does warrant a mention the last time Ohio State suffered multiple embarrassments in a five game stretch, the team reeled off thirteen wins in a row to win a national title. This time around, though, the Big Ten is stacked with former sleeping giants in Michigan and Penn State now wide awake and chasing playoff appearances. 

Beating up on Army, UNLV, and Rutgers to close out September may be exactly what the doctor ordered, as confidence for a floundering offense and more game reps for a young defense (whose woes I didn't bother discussing) should be immensely beneficial. But right now, one of college football's best coaches seems out of pixie dust. And to stay on top of one of the sport's best divisions, he better hope to find a sprinkle or two fast. 

J. Nave 

Why Is My Generation Ashamed of Crying?

Rounding third and heading for home with my college career, I've found myself caught in a pickle of late. Thankfully, I managed to not fail any of my classes so I can rest easy knowing I won't be getting tagged out and stopped from graduating per se. At the same time, though, the host of emotions running the gamut have made these last ninety feet more draining than I originally expected. 

Acknowledging the inevitably of all the "lasts" I'd encounter seemed helpful in theory back in the fall, but in actuality, it provided little to no emotional armor when the time came. Perhaps even more difficult are the "firsts" and realizing the quest to cross those last few items off the bucket list is the cruelest reminder the journey really should be cherished more than the destination. 

The one constant I've noticed through these experiences (both the highs and lows) is tears. In some instances, lots and lots of tears. 

However, there has been far too often an accompaniment to the crying I've witnessed. There's more variety to this arrangement, but it can take the form of a winding apology. An awkward explanation. A desperate justification. A wild rationalization. There's always a little embarrassment baked in, too. I've desperately racked my brain trying to understand this cause and effect relationship, but I keep circling back to the beginning of my search and a simple question: Why are people so ashamed of crying? 

I believe crying, especially in front of someone else, can be boiled down to two motives. First, the individual you are watching cry is so overwhelmed with such positive or negative emotions the floodgates simply broke open. Secondly, the individual you are watching cry has enough trust and faith in their relationship with you to open up with raw and genuine emotions. In some instances, it's probably even a combination of the two.

Seriously, look at every time you've ever cried in front of someone. At the core of whatever contributed to the crying, do you not arrive back at one of those two reasons?

Now, assuming you agree with that hypothesis to some extent, why did the second stage ever develop? At this point, I don't think there's any argument to be made it doesn't exist. Whether in the form of a viral tweet or an off the cuff remark, I see a discomfort or anxiety being around a crier expressed all the time.

So once again, where did this come from? Do we feel a need to say sorry for putting those around us through these encounters because enough people label them awkward? Did those two rationales for crying lose their legitimacy? Are we no longer empathetic with those struggling with feelings and situations we personally battle all the time?

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure the culprit for this trend. I'd imagine social media plays a role. Somehow, it has become commonplace for only our happiest moments or angriest rants to be at the center of a vast majority of our online content. Hell, when posts on its site venture over to more depressing material, Facebook now lets us react with an appropriate emoji and scroll along to the next part of our day without any second thoughts.

Regardless of the factors, including whatever may be most to blame, I hope it changes. I can't ever imagine the world being a place where excess empathy is a bad thing. Right now, the only place where crying is enjoyed is memes. Plus, for a generation in love with creating and wanderlust and serendipity and telling our stories and television quotes about appreciating life, isn't it just a bit hypocritical to avoid stomaching, or perhaps more depressingly accurate loathing, the things in life that make us lose our emotional composure?

Cry when you reach what you thought was going to be an impossible goal with an incredible group of people without feeling the need to apologize to anyone. Cry when your basketball team makes you believe in fairy tales again for a brief moment in time. Cry when you finish that last drink courtesy of your favorite bartender at your favorite bar and tell the freshman laughing at you he'll be there someday sooner than he can imagine. Cry when you leave a place that became home for four years without embarrassment.

Cry so crying can be normalized again.

J. Nave

Becoming A Basketball School In Ten Days

Whether it's a result of my affinity for The Lion King's opening number, an appreciation for Rust Cohle's theory of time, or simply always trying to see the romanticized patterns in life, I'm an avid believer in the circular pattern life seems to constantly create. My mind went here on Sunday night after I raced from the Salty Nut Cafe to the heart of campus following South Carolina's historic victory and second half slaying of the Duke Blue Devils.

Nearly three and a half years ago, I made a similar, yet slightly longer, pilgrimage from Five Points to Colonial Life Arena to watch my first Gamecock sporting event with my family. I knew absolutely nothing about South Carolina basketball, but we needed something to do on a Friday night. I can't remember which cupcake program the team played on that night, but I can remember three significant takeaways. 

1. High school basketball games I had previously attended possessed far more energy in their tiny gymnasiums than what I felt in this cavernous arena. 

2. Frank Martin, whose demeanor and roars I recalled from his roaming of the sidelines at Kansas State, apparently took a new job over the offseason? His screams echoed off the abundance of empty seats in the upper deck of the arena in such a ferocious manner I felt like I was sitting in the middle of the huddle during timeouts. 

3. Having it be socially acceptable to yell "Cocks!" should be this university's major selling point. 

To think in that brief time frame that program is now 40 minutes away from playing in the Final Four is unfathomable. It defies logic and reason. This antithesis of a blueblood program, overshadowed by a football team in a football conference, is on the verge of pulling off the most unprecedented athletic achievement I've ever directly supported. Factor in the sloppy play exhibited during the final few weeks of the regular season, Sindarius Thornwell and Company's run becomes even more puzzling.

In the last couple days, I'm not sure how to define the emotions and energy across campus. As Friday's game against Baylor progressed, it would be hard to argue against the claim this is a basketball school now. A surgically executed defensive gameplan stymied the Bears it became evident by halftime the Gamecocks were going to be deemed elite. There was no nervous energy in the crowded bar. This was the only result that made sense. As I got showered by champagne when the clock hit zero (alongside my parents nevertheless), I couldn't help but think about how to best articulate this transformation. 

Scouring the Internet for memes, quotes, and the like, an unlikely source provided what I feel is the most concise and correct way to describe what I've witnessed in the past week. That source? The Fault in Our Stars. Instead of falling asleep or falling in love slowly, and then all at once, though, I watched a whole campus and its surrounding city become a basketball community in the same manner. 

The past few years in Columbia have seen its shares of moments and people plant the seeds to start this affair. An upset over Kentucky where I stormed the court for the first time during my freshman year. Michael Carrera's exuberance of both enthusiasm and hustle willing his teammates to the brink of the Big Dance last year. Frank Martin's constant presence on campus where his dedication to an initially difficult sales pitch has netted him an abundance of clients today. But really, all those hours would have meant nothing without this past week. Three games, two hours in basketball time, and one stretch of purely dominant play have ramped up the passion to a dangerous level. 

Before the end of the day, we'll know if this relationship will take a vacation out west. A tough game against a familiar opponent in the World's Most Famous Arena and the Mecca of Basketball stands before this bunch of Cardiac Cocks. Even if they fall short, this run made on house money will always be looked upon as one of best memories from my four years. Will they pull it off? I'm trying to temper my cockiness and expectations. But this team hasn't let up, lost faith, or cared about the critics for one second. 

That's why March is a month of madness. And that's why this team has put an entire nation on notice. 

J. Nave

Send Basketball to The Upside Down

The Atlanta Falcons blew a 25 point lead in the Super Bowl last week, but the one thing I'll always remember about February 5th, 2017 is how the Internet lost its collective mind after a 30 second teaser aired for Stranger Things' second season. Having passed on the show in the fall, I gave the series eight hours of my life this past week. I wish I could get my time back. I don't get the hype whatsoever.  You have one of the creepiest love triangles of all time from a group of secondary characters, an alternate dimension so sticky it looks like the "demogorgon" constantly ejaculates on everything in its sight during non-hunting hours, a climactic moment where anybody with epilepsy would have felt like they were being tortured, and a whole town forgetting about the fact there is still a giant tear in the space time continuum in their town, and most importantly, not everybody survived their vacation to the Upside Down. The only redeeming quality of the show was the inclusion of many early 1980s one hit wonders. That's why I plan on raising a little hell with this post.

I also spent some time playing pickup basketball and watching basketball last week. Perhaps influenced by the theoretical physics embedded deep within my subconscious after thinking about acrobats and fleas, I realized basketball is likely a much better game in an alternate dimension. As long as its less sticky.

I'm 5'7", slightly overweight, and extremely unathletic. However, I have the ability to be in an advantageous position in basketball where should I position myself outside a certain point from the basket and make a shot I will be awarded one more point than a shot that is made from inside that designated distance. Thanks to my physically unimposing figure, often times I am left unguarded alone in the corner where I mange to shoot a respectfully mediocre percentage. This turns me into a threat. This is great for me, but this advantage exists in no other sport and it's about time basketball gets with the picture. Distance, while often correlated with difficulty in plenty of other sports, is rarely associated with an increase in value.

Cristiano Ronaldo can slot home a free kick from 25 yards or leap over a center back on a near post run off a corner to score goals. Each feat only counts as a single goal. An empty netter in hockey from Sergei Bobrovsky that was inches away from icing isn't worth an extra point than a bardown snipe courtesy of Cam Atkinson from the left circle (I used examples from the official NHL team of the Athletic Acumen because the league doesn't brand itself well enough to provide a better example. Sad!). Stephen Gostkowski kicking a 50 yard field goal is half as valuable on the scoreboard as a goal line fade pass from Tom Brady to Rob Gronkowski. A Bubba Watson 375 yard drive is one stroke on the scorecard as is a ten foot sidewinder putt drained by Jordan Spieth. In fact, you could make the argument in all those cases the closer to pay dirt example is more challenging, physically imposing, and/or expressive of the difference between the quality of play in professionals and amateurs.

I realize it sounds like I'm joining the cast of old timers who argue Steph Curry, the Houston Rockets, and AAU teams across the country are putting basketball on a fast track to the nadir of its history with three pointers galore, but personally, I'm arguing for equality. I want to be treated with the same sort of aspiration crushing reality in basketball that I'm currently offered in every other sport yielded by my lack of athleticism. I believe this is done not by eliminating the three point line. That's regression. We're looking for revolution. That's why I propose basketball consider any shot outside of the arc be worth two points. Any shot inside would then be worth three points in this great, new world.

Preposterous, insanity, or ridiculous are definitely some adjectives that would show up on the Family Feud answers to that idea if it was asked to a bunch of fans. But stay with me for a minute, and don't forget about the previous arguments made in regards to the relationship between distance and difficulty.

Layups or dunks, especially at the highest levels of basketball, are rarely easy. They often are the product of an impressive crossover, a blur of a first step, or require massive contact absorption when pulled off in a one on one situation. Other times a well timed backdoor cut and perfect pass lead to an easy look. Far more difficult than an uncontested three pointer, even a three ball with a hand in the shooter's face, analysts rave about the mid-range jumper, too. That's a shot only in the arsenals of the game's elites.

Other instances of layups, whether a result of a turnover leading to a fastbreak opportunity, a defensive lapse, or a lack of effort on the defensive boards, should also be punished as they are in other sports. Think of a blown coverage in the secondary, a terribly thrown interception leading to a pick six, a poorly timed line change allowing an easy breakaway, or a hanging curveball left belt high. The opposition is awarded in a far bigger way in all these other sports compared to basketball where the other team is essentially conceding a point by taking a layup over a transition three pointer.

I'll concede this is a half baked idea in its current form. Debates would rage about changing the number of free throws awarded on a shooting foul. Adding an extra one would only further draw out college games to unbearable lengths. There would likely be far more fouls catalyzing a discussion about increasing the requisite number of fouls for disqualification. Some teams may attempt to sign only the tallest people in the game. Half court buzzer beaters to force overtime or win games would happen in fewer scenarios. Are these sacrifices worth it? That's a question for a meeting of the minds I can't yet assemble. But if the revolution gains some momentum, who knows what we could be capable of achieving.

I imagine my version of basketball consisting of vicious, posterizing dunks on a nightly basis. I imagine it inspiring the next generation of All Stars to master eighteen foot fadeaways and opposite handed reverse layups. I imagine James Naismith himself will rise from the dead to see his new and improved product in the flesh. It may seem like lunacy to alter the rules of a heralded, global sport, but I believe this drastic change is exactly what's needed to rid basketball of its free handouts to my unathletic brethren.

They couldn't save Barb, but we can save basketball. Join the movement.

J. Nave