9 comments A Defense of Gus

In terms of fanhood, I'm in the middle of the pack when it comes to college basketball. I know the big names, some details and the general way things work. But without a rooting interest, I find it nearly impossible to pay attention to the regular season. There is, however, a cure. And that's Gus Johnson.

At nearly identical times, Bengoodfella and I tweeted polar opposite thoughts. While BGF railed Gus for his yelling during the Pac-10 Final, I proclaimed that I was watching the game merely because Gus' voice was guiding my experience. Upon seeing our debate, frequent commenter Koleslaw took Bengoodfella's side. Feeling childish, I had to defend Gus' honor.

At heart, I'm an immature fan who gets caught up in the emotions of the game. Think Mark Cuban, minus the money and the whole owning the Mavericks thing. With no attachment, I can't let myself go. As much as I enjoy being a Jay Bilas-like objective observer, I need to have a specific interest in the game (whether it's gambling or otherwise). If not, I have to feel the energy. I have to be able to experience the glory, the pain, and tension of every moment as if I were sitting in the second row. The announcer is that tool. Even though I know it's a tie game, the shot clock is off and the Pac 10 title is on the line, the enormity of the moment almost necessitates reinforcement.

If the announcer is cannot deliver the emotion, I cannot quite feel the enormity of the moment. Ultimately, these miniscules games are meaningless in the grand scheme of things. But when Gus Johnson interjects his obnoxiously loud intensity, he forces you to feel the moment. Even though the game may be one of many greats in the realm of college basketball, you cannot get off the couch and tear yourself away.

This is why I love Gus. He makes the unentertaining entertaining. He makes the mundane exciting. He brings relevance and pressure to already pressure-filled moments. I cannot object that the screaming and yelling is over the top. But without it, it's hard to remain as emotionally invested. And that's what draws us to sports. It's because we care. It's merely entertainment, and that's what Gus Johnson brings.

I am not ignorant. I understand that the majority of this blog disagrees. I sure as hell know that BGF does. So I'm ready for your rants and criticisms. Let the argument begin.

10 comments 3 Weeks To Go

Do you ever get the feeling that you can't quite express what you're trying to say? I'm not just talking about writing. Sometimes you're asked a question, and you realize that you're answer doesn't quite represent your internal monologue. It's frustrating, to say the least. Well that happened to me just this morning. I made a valiant attempt to argue that Chris Paul and Dwight Howard would leave their original teams, just as Garnett, LeBron and Melo (will) have done in consecutive seasons. But then I re-read the post and recognized my folly. It's not that I do not believe in what I'm saying; I do. But to spare you the agony of reading what I had written before, I decided to scrap it completely.

I'm not sure why I felt so obligated to get that off my chest, but I feel a million times better now that I have. Almost as good as John Starks when his dunk over Michael Jordan immortalized him in the eyes of Knicks fans everywhere. So much so that we somewhat forget his horrendous game 7 shooting performance. But to top off this moment of honesty, I must admit my pure dejection. No more football. Basketball is in its annual mid-season "nothing really changes too much in the standings because teams are not playing with complete urgency" stage. Same with the NHL. The college basketball season, despite its grandeur and intensity across college campuses, has no lasting impact in the general sports world. To most, college basketball is defined by two things: March Madness and Gus Johnson. Baseball, at least, is close to the beginning of its season, but still too far away. Pitchers and catchers reporting, while a momentous occasion, is only a marker on our baseball calenders to indicate that "we're almost there!"

Everything is either dead or at a standstill. That's what makes the end of the football season even more painful. We have to the college basketball conference tournaments before the juices start pumping and the chatter becomes audible. So for the next 3 weeks, I will remain dejected as I mourn the loss of football. The loss of Gregg Easterbrook. The loss of meaningful NFL Live shows at 4:30 in the afternoon.

In the meantime, I'll be honing my pickup basketball skills with everyone else whose holding onto the glory days of high school. Maybe I'll take up the English Premiere League, although that's a large project in itself. I'll struggle to come up with things to write about. Maybe the NBA All-Star game, but that's about it. So NFL, I bid you farewell.