I had a long week. From Esteban's visit, to taxes, to getting sick, I was really looking forward to Thursday night. It was the one day all week I had nothing penciled in and could be a complete slacker.
I snuggled into the couch, hacking away like a tubercular patient, and clicked on WKOW, but instead of McDreamy or McSteamy, I saw McBasketball. I read the fine print scrolling like the stock exchange across the bottom of the screen, "Grey's Anatomy shall be broadcast at 12:35 am."
Grr! Despite my fuzzy, antenna reception, I could tell there was not enough glossy advertising to make this a pro-game. Furthermore, there were no half-naked cheerleaders or large, loud men slathered in body paint to make it a college game. Then I realized it: These boys in long shorts squeaking around like drunk rabbits on a shiny floor were in high school.
Of all things to delay my bliss. I mean, really. The Search for the Next Pussy Cat Doll? Don'tchya think the world needs another show of untalented hos parading around to techno beats? Deal or No Deal? Howie Mandel, shave that freaking soul patch. You can block out all the trite crap on television you want, but don't screw with my Grey's Anatomy.
I'd heard about this March Madness stuff but sort of passed it off as a niche interest, like cage-fighting or model-painting. I don't have kids, much less high school age ones -- if I did, what a scientific intrigue I'd be! Maybe that's my problem. But that's also my point!
Madison is a college town filled with enough UW pride to brainwash high school from any current student's mind, plus the city boasts a huge population of single folks like me. (The stats are facts) Do you really think we 20- and 30-somethings give a rat's booty what 16-year-old gets MVP? Let me give you a hint -- a no one!
But don't think I am all hating on high school sports because I came from some podunk school that never won anything or because I am athletically inept. Quite the opposite. My high school kicked all the other high schools' asses and I even managed one of the teams. Take that! But if there was a high school match on television, it was reserved for public access -- where it rightfully should be!
Some sports are way more badass than others--perhaps if high school basketball began like this, I would be inclined to watch it. Bottom line, the only people paying attention to televised high school basketball are parents and urban cougars.
So like a pissed off kid from the opposing team, I stick my tongue out at you, Mr. Programmer Dude! Bring me my regularly scheduled programming!