Bruin Ruin

I was with the Gators from jump. Last night's tip off, really. I haven't watched a college b-ball game since The Kingdome, '95. The Final Four was in the hometown. Me and my sis' didn't have tickets for the big dance but we checked out an open practice with what seemed like the whole of Seattle. But last night I ate dinner, a mesclun salad, while watching The New Adventures of Old Christine 'cause I like Julia Louis-Dreyfus even though her sitcom's laugh track works my nerves. Too tired to get up and shower and go to bed, I ended up catching the start of the championship game. The Gator's energy, execution and general handsomeness kept me tuned in. Brewer's the truth and has a spectacular smile. Don't remember too much about Horsford's game but he's quite the hottie and Noah, too, in a high school sort of way. They were a fun team to watch. The post-game show, of little interest to me, crept up on me while I stabbed at my laptops broke down keyboard. Assembled behind coach Billy Donovan stood the 19& 20 year old victors exceedingly crunk up on it. One of CBS's old white color commentators asked how they were feeling. Noah said something about not doing HW for the next 2-3 weeks. And then a voice rang out in the revelry,

"American wanna see us live not work!"