Rush The Court

A Column of Enchantment has been a fun and weird thing since it debuted a few months ago on Rush the Court. When Randy and I discussed the idea of it — a barely about college basketball college basketball column — he got what I was trying to pitch. The basic premise of it was that there were no real actual premise or structure to it. That being said, I have often relied upon the touching of three major topics after I meet you with the opening paragraph. In that particular structure we have compared Kentucky to Lobsters battling Unicorns, talked about Christian Slater being awesome and often talked about my man-crush on Fred Hoiberg. Other times I don’t even actually cover college basketball. I’ll talk about Dancing With The Stars and mask the absurdity of doing so by adding a few college hoops figures to the cast. Then there’s the time I wrote a fictional Steve Lavin story and, well, people seemed to enjoy it. Basically, the easiest way to describe this column: utter poop-show of sometimes awesomeness.

All in all, A Column of Enchantment has been about fun, bad jokes, even worse analogies, often not talking about college basketball and mostly the idea that it is okay to not be a college basketball writer who takes himself too seriously. There are enough of those types of college basketbloggers in the world — not to mention those who are void of personality or seem to have no earthly idea what they are talking about. There are good ones too. That is certainly worth mentioning. In my less than humble opinion I think that the college basketball media world is packed with the best group of any of the groups of sports writing out there. Regardless, I just wanted A Column of Enchantment to help break up your day as well as mine, bring a smile to the dozen of you guys who read (and enjoy) this and even poke fun at myself.

Yet here I am. A miserable fellow. Things have been tough on your good ole pal Joe lately. That’s not something you care to hear about, I know — and honestly, I really don’t give a fudge. Other sports writers scribble their thoughts for money, fame, validation or other tangible reasons. I put mine on the laptop because I like feeling creative and it has always been a way to relieve stress. Even if it means I don’t add anything extra to the discourse that is the sport. That’s probably not fair — and is a certainly a horrible way to go writing about sports — but that’s my style. If you are like some of the people who have somehow found my email address (when I didn’t have it publicly listed) and decided to email me to tell me you like my stuff but think I am a bit too kooky, you can go to the other site where I write on the topic of college hoops more seriously. But for now you’re here at RTC, reading A Column of Enchantment, so you are going to listen me whine a bit. Stop reading now if you don’t want to deal with it. With that being said, though, I’ll still try to manage to hurl in some bad jokes for you too because I’m most certainly a man of the people.

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March Madness is here. Like, for real here. It is my favorite time of the year and probably yours too. I mean, there’s nothing like a little unpaid labor making millions upon millions of dollars for universities who do everything in their power to keep those without it from having some. Those unpaid laborers are also playing some single-game elimination hoops for our entertainment. Since we have long ago been able to compartmentalize those facts, which has allowed us to enjoy said Tournament without guilt, we should all be incredibly happy. Expect, um, I am not.

I do have the opportunity to take in every single game going forward. There’s nothing that stands in my way on Thursday (I write these on Wednesdays, so when this is published the games will already be on and I’ll be watching) from watching the games as soon as they start. That is normally a good thing. The opposite scenario is the problem most people complain about. For me, however, having the ability to sit home and watch these games is the problem. As I have mentioned in previous incarnations of this column; I was a causality of cutbacks in January. It was a job I really liked. One that I thought I would be in for the rest of my life, actually. More importantly than my fictitious happiness gauge of employment, I made enough money that my family would be able to function like a normal family should. We weren’t rich or anything, but my mortgage would be paid, groceries bought and I would even be able to do something for my wife and/or kids here and there. It was, using hindsight especially, an amazing time of my life. It took me 31 years to get to that point of finding a good and somewhat fun job that I was good at… and I had it — until I lost it in January.

This isn’t to be a woe is me post. I’d prefer it to be more of a cautionary tale for my younger readers. Older folks are already probably jaded to the point of their eyeballs slowly attempting to escape from their craniums like me. They have been through what I am currently going through already. Some of them made it. Actually, I hope, because I hope the same for me, that most of them made it. They either found their way through this awful, sh–ty and often times counterproductive thing called the labor force or they just gave up. I feel like doing the latter right now. If I didn’t have two monsters that doctors swear came from my loins (liars!), I probably would have by now. I suppose, because stupid responsibilities, I should press on or whatever — likely whatever, but I am trying to pump you out of your gourds right now!

Here is what I am asking all you ungrateful lovers of the Internet to do for me going forward. And, trust me, it isn’t all that much. Find an idea of what career path you want to do early and take the proper steps to make such a thing happen. Want to be a sports writer person? Go to college for it, network, read a lot and do many other things. Want to be a teacher? Go to school to be a teacher. Want to be a carpenter? Go to vo/tech and school for it. So on and so forth. Don’t wait until you are too old or with too many responsibilities to do such a thing. Do I sound like your parents? Of course. Am I actually your biological father? Well, if you were born between 1998-2007 there’s a decent chance of that being so (I had a pretty solid run). If that’s the case: You’re grounded, Billy/Brenda/Whatever your name is, Nardone!

All of that probably makes me and A Column of Enchantment less cool than we thought we were (we never were, for what it’s worth), but it doesn’t mean your parents or I are wrong. It probably means nothing, honestly, because you’re not going to listen to any of my advice and just think I’m doing this because I happen to be in a real pissy mood — and you are right. Again, it doesn’t make me wrong. Also, I’m still not really giving you any advice.

I am going to leave you with some more warnings about life that you already know about but will refuse to acknowledge are a thing until it happens to you. Since we already touched on the workforce spitting you out regardless of abilities, happiness or circumstance, let’s move forward from there.

• No one cares about you.
• Money DOES buy happiness.
• Selling out is probably okay if it means the betterment of your family.
• Only refrain from selling out if you’re beyond reproach (most of us aren’t).
• Taking yourself too seriously is often viewed as a positive attribute in the professional world.
• Being self-deprecating is not as endearing as movies or others claim it is.
• You WILL be as bitter as I am today for at least one day in your life.
• Being a parent is awesome, but will also alter everything you ever thought about.
• Chasing your dream is fine ONLY if you have the talent to do it.
• Hard work will only mask — for a short period of time — your lack of education or ineptness.
• You WILL forget about this column about 10 minutes after you read it.

Well, that’s about it. I just spent over 1,500 words biyatching about my life while pretending to use my miserable circumstances to help teach you a lesson. I hope I did, but if we were to be honest with each other — and we should because we’re friends — I just wanted to biyatch and moan. Venting is awesome. I don’t vent in real life at all. I just eat sh– all day, every single day, because my slot in life demands of such — I guess. More so, venting on a laptop to people who will mostly think of me as a loser for doing so is even better. Although, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling a bit better after all of this. I’ll see all of you jerfkaces in hell. I’ll be the one biyatching about the heat.

Eh, I digress. Basketball — kind of not even close this week.