Let's be honest here, just for a second.
("Honest? You?" you're saying).
Let's talk about what we really want out of life, aside from the obvious, like a street-legal Ferrari 330 P3 from the 1960s, a private island in the Caribbean and decent beer that doesn't taste like someone tripped and spilled a carload of hops in it.
("But absurdly hoppy beers are what true beer connoisseurs treasure!" you're saying).
("Absurdly hoppy beers are vile swill treasured only by people who don't know anything about beer!" is my response).
Anyway ... what we want out of life, what we secretly crave, is utter chaos. At least, in March we do.
It's why we root for the 15 seed to take out the 2 seed and the 13 to waylay the 4 and the 12 to beat the 5 the way tradition dictates. And it's why there's really only one team to root for this weekend, as the Final Four plays out down there in Houston.
That team would be Syracuse.
Yes, the cheaters. Yes, the 10 seed no one thought should have gotten into the tournament to begin with. Yes, the team with the lowest RPI in the history of the tournament.
The anarchist in me -- in all of us -- wants to see Syracuse win because it would be the most deliciously ridiculous thing ever.
It would mean the regular season really doesn't mean anything, which is the only downside to a Syracuse win. People who despise college buckets have been saying that for years. Of course, the same people who say that are people who conveniently ignore the fact that the NBA regular season -- which lasts roughly as long as the Pleistocene Age -- means even less.
That's because after all that Pleistocene-ing, the teams everyone figured would be at the top back in October always seem to wind up at the top. Which makes you wonder why anyone bothers to pay attention until, like, mid-April.
But that's another rant for another day.
Today, we'll celebrate the delicious possibility of the Madness -- specifically, the possibility that Syracuse could still cut down the nets Monday night. This would be awesome, because it would mean the NCAA would have to hand its trophy to Jim Boeheim, whom it suspended for nine games back in December for running a dirty program. It would be the greatest gritted-teeth moment since the NCAA had to hand its trophy to Jerry Tarkanian, whom it hounded for years mainly because he said mean stuff about the NCAA once upon a time.
The best part of this scenario?
It's not all that far-fetched. The 'Cuse play the only top seed left in the tournament, North Carolina, in the semifinals, a matchup that's already happened twice. In the first meeting, Carolina won by 11 at Syracuse. In the second, Carolina squeaked by 75-70 in Chapel Hill.
So if you're looking at this and seeing a mismatch, you need to get your eyes checked. This will not be a mismatch. Or at least it's not likely it will be.
And if the 'Cuse happens to pull the not-so-shocking upset?
Then it gets 2-seed Villanova or 2-seed Oklahoma in the title game. Both of whom would be heavily favored, but maybe no more than top-seed Virginia was. And the 'Cuse handled the Cavaliers by six in the regional championship game.
So, it's possible. Not probable, but possible.
A 13-loss team winning the national title?
Hey. Let the Madness be the Madness.
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Photobombed
The Blob may not know much about team-building, given its inclinations on the basketball floor (Hint: Its two favorite words are "I'm" and "open"). But it knows enough to know you don't really do it this way.
The temptation here is to ask what D'Angelo Russell was thinking, but the answer is so self-evident (i.e., "He wasn't") that it's unnecessary. Suffice it to say it's a bleak ending to an extraordinarily bleak season for what was once one of the NBA's proudest franchises -- and, with Kobe heading out the door and the D'Angelo Russells and Nick Youngs in charge now, it paints an bleaker portrait of what the Lakers' immediate future looks like.
Your presumptive next franchise player closing out the year by outing a teammate and getting frozen out by all his other teammates in response?
Yes, sir. That really makes you look forward to next season if you're a Lakers fan.
Maybe the Lake Show just needs a little of this guy.
The temptation here is to ask what D'Angelo Russell was thinking, but the answer is so self-evident (i.e., "He wasn't") that it's unnecessary. Suffice it to say it's a bleak ending to an extraordinarily bleak season for what was once one of the NBA's proudest franchises -- and, with Kobe heading out the door and the D'Angelo Russells and Nick Youngs in charge now, it paints an bleaker portrait of what the Lakers' immediate future looks like.
Your presumptive next franchise player closing out the year by outing a teammate and getting frozen out by all his other teammates in response?
Yes, sir. That really makes you look forward to next season if you're a Lakers fan.
Maybe the Lake Show just needs a little of this guy.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
That river in Egypt
It's called Denial and Colts owner Jim Irsay is the latest to take a cruise on it.
You expect occasional transmissions from outer space where Irsay is concerned, but the other day was moons-of-Jupiter even for him. Irsay, saying "there's so much we don't know" compared the risks involved in playing football to the risks involved in taking an aspirin.
No, really. He said that.
And, yes, OK, there is so much we don't know about CTE and how it affects the brain. But what we do know, irrefutably, is it's showing up in more and more dead football players, which more than suggests a causal link between playing football and degenerative brain damage. Even the NFL finally came out and admitted, reluctantly, that after nearly 15 years of studies -- some of which were commissioned by the NFL, which then denied its own findings -- there probably was something to the notion that playing football probably wasn't good for the noggin.
Go figure.
I mean, it doesn't take an 8-year-old to conclude that repeatedly bashing your head into other people's heads at high rates of speed does bad stuff to your brain. And yet those making vast piles off the head-bashing are going to comic lengths to deny it.
Such as, for instance, Irsay. Or Cowboys coach Jerry Jones, who went so far as to say it's "absurd" to suggest there's a link between CTE and playing football. Either he doesn't get out much, or has decided all that research done by all those smart people in the last decade-and-a-half is meaningless because ... well, you know. They're trained researchers with PhDs and what-not. What do they know about anything?
Look. I get it. These guys are deathly afraid the football money pump is going to seize up because of this, and so they're going to say any crazy thing to keep that from happening. It's like all those tobacco kingpins swearing under oath that inhaling carcinogens didn't give you cancer. No, sir. No link there, by golly.
But there is no black-and-white to this. You can acknowledge that playing football entails serious risks without having some other, sinister agenda. No one rational is suggesting we abolish the game because of this. The goal is to make people aware of those risks and then send them on their way. And then to take steps to minimize that risk for those who choose to play anyway.
That's all. That's it. There's no "war on football" going on here, no matter what the hysterics say.
That's because everyone who's reasonable acknowledges football is a fine sport with enormous benefits, some of them tangible and some not so. Recognizing the very real brain trauma that sometimes comes with it doesn't discount that. The only consequence of doing that is more and more players are going to be hanging 'em up earlier and earlier. And if that means the day is coming when it's a rarity to see an NFL player older than 30, so what?
The NFL will still be the NFL. And, despite the fears of Irsay and Jones and others, we'll still watch.
You expect occasional transmissions from outer space where Irsay is concerned, but the other day was moons-of-Jupiter even for him. Irsay, saying "there's so much we don't know" compared the risks involved in playing football to the risks involved in taking an aspirin.
No, really. He said that.
And, yes, OK, there is so much we don't know about CTE and how it affects the brain. But what we do know, irrefutably, is it's showing up in more and more dead football players, which more than suggests a causal link between playing football and degenerative brain damage. Even the NFL finally came out and admitted, reluctantly, that after nearly 15 years of studies -- some of which were commissioned by the NFL, which then denied its own findings -- there probably was something to the notion that playing football probably wasn't good for the noggin.
Go figure.
I mean, it doesn't take an 8-year-old to conclude that repeatedly bashing your head into other people's heads at high rates of speed does bad stuff to your brain. And yet those making vast piles off the head-bashing are going to comic lengths to deny it.
Such as, for instance, Irsay. Or Cowboys coach Jerry Jones, who went so far as to say it's "absurd" to suggest there's a link between CTE and playing football. Either he doesn't get out much, or has decided all that research done by all those smart people in the last decade-and-a-half is meaningless because ... well, you know. They're trained researchers with PhDs and what-not. What do they know about anything?
Look. I get it. These guys are deathly afraid the football money pump is going to seize up because of this, and so they're going to say any crazy thing to keep that from happening. It's like all those tobacco kingpins swearing under oath that inhaling carcinogens didn't give you cancer. No, sir. No link there, by golly.
But there is no black-and-white to this. You can acknowledge that playing football entails serious risks without having some other, sinister agenda. No one rational is suggesting we abolish the game because of this. The goal is to make people aware of those risks and then send them on their way. And then to take steps to minimize that risk for those who choose to play anyway.
That's all. That's it. There's no "war on football" going on here, no matter what the hysterics say.
That's because everyone who's reasonable acknowledges football is a fine sport with enormous benefits, some of them tangible and some not so. Recognizing the very real brain trauma that sometimes comes with it doesn't discount that. The only consequence of doing that is more and more players are going to be hanging 'em up earlier and earlier. And if that means the day is coming when it's a rarity to see an NFL player older than 30, so what?
The NFL will still be the NFL. And, despite the fears of Irsay and Jones and others, we'll still watch.
Monday, March 28, 2016
Billboard Madness
I knew I should have gone corporate on this deal.
I knew I shouldn't have said it would Kansas, Virginia, Kentucky and Oregon in the Final Four, because, well, none of them are there. Syracuse -- Syracuse! -- is there instead. No, I don't know how. But the Orange are my new fave now, and more about that on the Blob later.
In any case, I'm a big fat zero on my Final Four picks. But if I'd gone corporate, I wouldn't be.
I should have picked Always Reppin' to be in my Final Four.
Always Reppin' (among other sayings) is the new March Madness meme, and surely you've noticed it. Every other team in Da Tournament seems to be wearing Nike Always Reppin' T-shirts over their unis, cloaking the logo of the universities for whom they're allegedly playing with the logo of whom their really playing for, Nike. Or, you know, Under Armour. Or PowerAde.
In other words, it's not just shoes anymore, or a discreet little Nike swoosh on one shoulder. Corporate advertising has gone full-on NASCAR now, with the hired help serving as human billboards in fact instead of just subliminal ones.
It's so in-your-face, and so pervasive, you wouldn't notice it unless your antennae conditioned you to notice it. Which mine do, for better or worse. And following quickly on the heels of noticing is the question of how much the human billboards are getting compensated for pimping their schools' respective apparel suppliers in such a blatant fashion.
The answer, of course, is zilch. Nada. You'll get nothing and like it, mister.
And you wonder why one-and-done kids like Ben Simmons couldn't care less about the schools for whom they play?
Why should they, when the whole rotten thing is all about commerce anyway?
And so the one-and-dones stop going to class as soon as they decently can, because they recognize what the game is here. They were hired to make money for their schools, and, if their talents get their schools to Da Tournament, they've done their job. So how can the schools complain if they don't go along with the rest of the charade?
It's a warped system that bears no relation to the student-athlete model the NCAA so zealously pushes, and with such increasing desperation. If this weren't simply about sucking every dollar from the sweat of free labor, the NCAA would decree that the apparel companies could no longer use its "student-athletes" as billboards. It would decree that coaches could no longer wantonly break contracts to flit from one school to another, then deny their players the right to do the same.
The common practice of coaches denying their athletes the right to transfer to any school they please gained fresh exposure when new Georgia football coach Kirby Smart forbade one of his players from following the previous head coach, Mark Richt, to Miami. If the NCAA were truly serious about the welfare of its student-athletes, it would ban this practice immediately -- or at the very least tell its member schools that any of them who persisted in it would suffer NCAA sanction.
To not do this is to essentially admit that their student-athletes are, in fact, indentured servants. Worse, actually.
Always Reppin'?
Always Gettin' Ripped Off is more like it.
I knew I shouldn't have said it would Kansas, Virginia, Kentucky and Oregon in the Final Four, because, well, none of them are there. Syracuse -- Syracuse! -- is there instead. No, I don't know how. But the Orange are my new fave now, and more about that on the Blob later.
In any case, I'm a big fat zero on my Final Four picks. But if I'd gone corporate, I wouldn't be.
I should have picked Always Reppin' to be in my Final Four.
Always Reppin' (among other sayings) is the new March Madness meme, and surely you've noticed it. Every other team in Da Tournament seems to be wearing Nike Always Reppin' T-shirts over their unis, cloaking the logo of the universities for whom they're allegedly playing with the logo of whom their really playing for, Nike. Or, you know, Under Armour. Or PowerAde.
In other words, it's not just shoes anymore, or a discreet little Nike swoosh on one shoulder. Corporate advertising has gone full-on NASCAR now, with the hired help serving as human billboards in fact instead of just subliminal ones.
It's so in-your-face, and so pervasive, you wouldn't notice it unless your antennae conditioned you to notice it. Which mine do, for better or worse. And following quickly on the heels of noticing is the question of how much the human billboards are getting compensated for pimping their schools' respective apparel suppliers in such a blatant fashion.
The answer, of course, is zilch. Nada. You'll get nothing and like it, mister.
And you wonder why one-and-done kids like Ben Simmons couldn't care less about the schools for whom they play?
Why should they, when the whole rotten thing is all about commerce anyway?
And so the one-and-dones stop going to class as soon as they decently can, because they recognize what the game is here. They were hired to make money for their schools, and, if their talents get their schools to Da Tournament, they've done their job. So how can the schools complain if they don't go along with the rest of the charade?
It's a warped system that bears no relation to the student-athlete model the NCAA so zealously pushes, and with such increasing desperation. If this weren't simply about sucking every dollar from the sweat of free labor, the NCAA would decree that the apparel companies could no longer use its "student-athletes" as billboards. It would decree that coaches could no longer wantonly break contracts to flit from one school to another, then deny their players the right to do the same.
The common practice of coaches denying their athletes the right to transfer to any school they please gained fresh exposure when new Georgia football coach Kirby Smart forbade one of his players from following the previous head coach, Mark Richt, to Miami. If the NCAA were truly serious about the welfare of its student-athletes, it would ban this practice immediately -- or at the very least tell its member schools that any of them who persisted in it would suffer NCAA sanction.
To not do this is to essentially admit that their student-athletes are, in fact, indentured servants. Worse, actually.
Always Reppin'?
Always Gettin' Ripped Off is more like it.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
The farce is with them
So the worst team in women's college basketball won big the other night, beating some schmoes from Mississippi State 98-38 after leading at one time by a preposterous 68 points.
It was the worst team's 72nd straight win. They have won 21 straight NCAA tournament games, most by absurd margins. And they are going to win their fourth straight national title in 10 days unless there is some catastrophic occurrence, like a comet hitting the Earth.
So why are the UConn Huskies the worst team in women's college basketball?
Because they are the best team by such a ridiculous margin they are ruining the game.
Nothing renders a sport irrelevant like knowing who's going to win ahead of time, and UConn has all but reduced women's college hoops to that farcical state. If the Huskies are not a professional basketball team in fact, they are at the very least playing one on TV.
That Mississippi State team they destroyed the other night?
It's not like it was some middle school five. The Bulldogs were 28-8. They were a 5 seed. And yet the mismatch was so ludicrous it was virtually unwatchable. And the worst part was that one of the UConn stars was a freshman, Katie Lou Samuelson, who scored 21 points to become only the third UConn freshman ever to have two 20-point NCAA games.
So while Breanna Stewart, the best player in the women's game, graduates in May, the next Stewart seems already to be waiting in the wings. And so the beatings will go on.
The great irony here is that while UConn is making the women's tournament the hoops version of a sitcom rerun, outside its sphere the women's game may be as competitive as it's ever been. There have actually been more lower seeds win games this year than in the men's tournament. And on the same night UConn was winning its howler against Mississippi State, two No. 1 seeds -- Notre Dame and South Carolina -- both were knocked out of the tournament.
Which rarely used to happen on the women's side.
And which, most likely, will simply make UConn's march to the title even more a rote exercise.
This is not to say there's anything anyone can do about this. There isn't. Geno Auriemma is the best coach in women's hoops by miles and miles, and he's simply built a program that has elevated itself to the point where it should probably have its own private division in NCAA Division I. Maybe NCAA Division I-C, for "Connecticut."
Absent that, the only hope for the women's game is that more Genos come along to challenge him. His only legitimate challenger right now is Muffet McGraw at Notre Dame, who's built a facsimile juggernaut herself in South Bend. But she could use some reinforcements.
The worst team in women's college hoops, meanwhile, moves on to play Texas Monday night.
Please give the Huskies a game, Longhorns. Or better yet, beat them. Do it for your sport.
UPDATE: Auriemma defends program with flawed analogy, kind of misses the point.
It was the worst team's 72nd straight win. They have won 21 straight NCAA tournament games, most by absurd margins. And they are going to win their fourth straight national title in 10 days unless there is some catastrophic occurrence, like a comet hitting the Earth.
So why are the UConn Huskies the worst team in women's college basketball?
Because they are the best team by such a ridiculous margin they are ruining the game.
Nothing renders a sport irrelevant like knowing who's going to win ahead of time, and UConn has all but reduced women's college hoops to that farcical state. If the Huskies are not a professional basketball team in fact, they are at the very least playing one on TV.
That Mississippi State team they destroyed the other night?
It's not like it was some middle school five. The Bulldogs were 28-8. They were a 5 seed. And yet the mismatch was so ludicrous it was virtually unwatchable. And the worst part was that one of the UConn stars was a freshman, Katie Lou Samuelson, who scored 21 points to become only the third UConn freshman ever to have two 20-point NCAA games.
So while Breanna Stewart, the best player in the women's game, graduates in May, the next Stewart seems already to be waiting in the wings. And so the beatings will go on.
The great irony here is that while UConn is making the women's tournament the hoops version of a sitcom rerun, outside its sphere the women's game may be as competitive as it's ever been. There have actually been more lower seeds win games this year than in the men's tournament. And on the same night UConn was winning its howler against Mississippi State, two No. 1 seeds -- Notre Dame and South Carolina -- both were knocked out of the tournament.
Which rarely used to happen on the women's side.
And which, most likely, will simply make UConn's march to the title even more a rote exercise.
This is not to say there's anything anyone can do about this. There isn't. Geno Auriemma is the best coach in women's hoops by miles and miles, and he's simply built a program that has elevated itself to the point where it should probably have its own private division in NCAA Division I. Maybe NCAA Division I-C, for "Connecticut."
Absent that, the only hope for the women's game is that more Genos come along to challenge him. His only legitimate challenger right now is Muffet McGraw at Notre Dame, who's built a facsimile juggernaut herself in South Bend. But she could use some reinforcements.
The worst team in women's college hoops, meanwhile, moves on to play Texas Monday night.
Please give the Huskies a game, Longhorns. Or better yet, beat them. Do it for your sport.
UPDATE: Auriemma defends program with flawed analogy, kind of misses the point.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Buzz(saw)kill
Even the rims wore Carolina blue last night, under the orange camouflage.
You thought that every time a shot shimmied around the rim and fell through, or kicked high off it and fell through, or was otherwise treated with kindness by that circle of iron. Even North Carolina's misses weren't misses. And thereby hangs last night's tale.
When a basketball team hangs a century on you, shoots 52 percent and a profoundly ill 55 (11 of 20) from beyond the arc, the first assumption might be that you played turnstile defense. And yet, to the naked eye at least, that wasn't the case last night in Indiana's 101-86 loss to top-seeded Carolina in the Sweet Sixteen.
The Hoosiers guarded people, or tried to. They contested the vast majority of all those shots. They still went in.
When that happens, of course, and you're a fan of the team it happened to, the tendency is always not to give credit, to say "Well, if we'd done this ... or this ... or this." No fan ever wants to credit the other team for just being too good.
But that's our tale here. Carolina, whom many hoopheads consider to have the best talent in the country, simply played to its level, and perhaps beyond. The Tarheels were simply too good, at least for 40 minutes last night.
If they play like that from here on out, they'll be cutting down the nets on April 4. No one left in the field is going to beat them, or even come close.
And Indiana?
Carolina guarded the perimeter so well the Hoosiers could never get off a three that wasn't hurried, and if the threes aren't falling, they're a team looking at an intimidating mountain climb. Yogi Ferrell must then drive and deal, and Thomas Bryant must take charge inside, and while both did that bravely, it wasn't going to be enough against a team as gifted and multi-faceted as Carolina, especially when that team is so demonstrably on its game.
And so, the Hoosiers go out, in Tom Crean's best coaching year. Nothing that happened last night can erase that. Crean's Hoosiers simply ran up against a better team having a great night.
No ifs, ifs or ifs about it.
You thought that every time a shot shimmied around the rim and fell through, or kicked high off it and fell through, or was otherwise treated with kindness by that circle of iron. Even North Carolina's misses weren't misses. And thereby hangs last night's tale.
When a basketball team hangs a century on you, shoots 52 percent and a profoundly ill 55 (11 of 20) from beyond the arc, the first assumption might be that you played turnstile defense. And yet, to the naked eye at least, that wasn't the case last night in Indiana's 101-86 loss to top-seeded Carolina in the Sweet Sixteen.
The Hoosiers guarded people, or tried to. They contested the vast majority of all those shots. They still went in.
When that happens, of course, and you're a fan of the team it happened to, the tendency is always not to give credit, to say "Well, if we'd done this ... or this ... or this." No fan ever wants to credit the other team for just being too good.
But that's our tale here. Carolina, whom many hoopheads consider to have the best talent in the country, simply played to its level, and perhaps beyond. The Tarheels were simply too good, at least for 40 minutes last night.
If they play like that from here on out, they'll be cutting down the nets on April 4. No one left in the field is going to beat them, or even come close.
And Indiana?
Carolina guarded the perimeter so well the Hoosiers could never get off a three that wasn't hurried, and if the threes aren't falling, they're a team looking at an intimidating mountain climb. Yogi Ferrell must then drive and deal, and Thomas Bryant must take charge inside, and while both did that bravely, it wasn't going to be enough against a team as gifted and multi-faceted as Carolina, especially when that team is so demonstrably on its game.
And so, the Hoosiers go out, in Tom Crean's best coaching year. Nothing that happened last night can erase that. Crean's Hoosiers simply ran up against a better team having a great night.
No ifs, ifs or ifs about it.
Friday, March 25, 2016
Pot meets kettle, or something
So defending national champion Duke is out of Da Tournament, erased 82-68 by a No. 1 seed (Oregon) that plays way out in America's Invisible Zone, the Northwest, and so was assumed not to be worthy of a No. 1 seed.
Well, the Ducks sure looked like one last night, right up to the end, when Oregon guard Dillon Brooks did something kind of classless, but which No. 1 teams have done before simply because they could. What Brooks did was launch a what-the-hell 3-pointer from near midcourt with the clock under 10 seconds and Duke simply letting it run out.
The what-the-hell three went in. Go figure.
This prompted an exchange between Brooks and Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski that Brooks said happened and Coach K says didn't happen. Coach K's version is that he simply told Brooks he was a "terrific player." Brook's version is that Coach K told him he was too good a player to show off like that.
Believe whom you want. I can see it happening either way.
What I also can see is that Brooks' kick-'em-while-they're-down gesture is not something Coach K, of all people, should be protesting too loudly. The Dukies, too, have had their share of because-we-can moments. And have gotten away with it a few very famous times.
Or maybe you've forgotten Christian Laettner's chest stomp of a Kentucky player before he hit that shot we now have to watch ad nauseum. That he should have been ejected, and therefore not been in a position to take that endlessly replayed shot, only makes it harder to watch over and over ... and over ... and over.
Of course, Laettner wasn't ejected. Of course, his spiritual descendant, sophomore guard Grayson Allen, hasn't been ejected (or even punished) for the serial times he's stuck his foot out and tripped an opposing player while lying on the floor.
So call Brooks' shot a bit of well-deserved karma. At least, that's what the Blob will call it.
UPDATE: Coach K gets busted..
Well, the Ducks sure looked like one last night, right up to the end, when Oregon guard Dillon Brooks did something kind of classless, but which No. 1 teams have done before simply because they could. What Brooks did was launch a what-the-hell 3-pointer from near midcourt with the clock under 10 seconds and Duke simply letting it run out.
The what-the-hell three went in. Go figure.
This prompted an exchange between Brooks and Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski that Brooks said happened and Coach K says didn't happen. Coach K's version is that he simply told Brooks he was a "terrific player." Brook's version is that Coach K told him he was too good a player to show off like that.
Believe whom you want. I can see it happening either way.
What I also can see is that Brooks' kick-'em-while-they're-down gesture is not something Coach K, of all people, should be protesting too loudly. The Dukies, too, have had their share of because-we-can moments. And have gotten away with it a few very famous times.
Or maybe you've forgotten Christian Laettner's chest stomp of a Kentucky player before he hit that shot we now have to watch ad nauseum. That he should have been ejected, and therefore not been in a position to take that endlessly replayed shot, only makes it harder to watch over and over ... and over ... and over.
Of course, Laettner wasn't ejected. Of course, his spiritual descendant, sophomore guard Grayson Allen, hasn't been ejected (or even punished) for the serial times he's stuck his foot out and tripped an opposing player while lying on the floor.
So call Brooks' shot a bit of well-deserved karma. At least, that's what the Blob will call it.
UPDATE: Coach K gets busted..
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