The Conspiracy, Part 8: Persistence

"Stop staring at me!"

The voice was unmistakable--it was the panic that sounded out of place.

"Tell me", I whispered--admittedly, it was kind of creepy.

"No!"

I persisted, the voice, a little louder.  "Tell me now!"

"No, LEAVE ME ALONE!"

I had never seen or heard Chewy like this.  This was too good to pass up.

The Conspiracy, Part 7: The Bottom Of It

Another loud roar from the living room.

As I tried to get work done on Saturday night, I couldn't concentrate.  For some reason, there were a number of controlled explosions coming from the vicinity of the new television set.  I was jealous that others were getting a chance to enjoy the new fruit of my labors but work had to be done.

Still, I couldn't figure out why everyone was so into whatever was going on.  The Stanley Cup playoffs had not started yet.  No NBA playoffs.  My family isn't into the Minnesota high school scene for basketball or hockey.  Hell, my family could usually care less about sports unless it was Nate and the Golden State Warriors or Danielle and the Twins.

"Go Gonzaga!"

The Conspiracy, Part 6: Leaving Las Vegas

The plane started to rumble again.

Uggh.  I hate flying.

As I squirmed in my seat, my Dad looked over.

"You know, I could fall asleep if you would stop grabbing the seat in front of you."

And I could sleep if the plane would just land.

"Why are you so jumpy today?"

"Today?  I'm always this way on a plane."

The Conspiracy, Part 5: Vegas

Not again.

I looked at the machine.  Then I looked at my beer.  The beer was full.  In fact, it was my first one of the day.  And at my age, you don't start drinking in Vegas until at least lunchtime.

But the machine was my concern.

You wouldn't expect someone to be concerned about a video poker machine that was displaying a royal flush.  But the fact that it was the third one of the weekend, brought me pause.  Like maybe I was passed out in my hotel room and this had all been a dream.

Why Not Gonzaga?

Welcome to the annual exercise that needlessly occupies a lot of people's time, creates frivolous rivalries, and makes otherwise calm individuals start raving lunatics.

Yup, it's Gonzaga-bashing time.

The once perennially-loved Cinderella of the March Madness phenomena has now become a pariah. 

Can't win the big one.  Doesn't play anyone.  Overrated.   In 2013 when Gonzaga received the school's first ever #1 seed in the Big Dance, they were the fashionable pick to be the first #1 seed to lose in the first round.  They fed those naysayers by only beating #16 Southern by 6.

The Conspiracy, Part 4: Oblivious

There is something about crutches that can change your perspective.

As I packed for my (somewhat) annual trip to Vegas, I was practically giddy.  And I don't get giddy.  Mildly amused, yes.  Giddy?  I'm not a Dickensian character (look it up if I lost you).

When you spend a whole weekend stressed out trying to pack, maneuvering around on your crutches while trying to make sure you have packed additional items to assist your movements (except ibuprofen--that is already a staple in a Vegas first-aid kit), you realize what you take for granted.  Hell, you realize how much you take actual walking for granted.

Not even HE could wreck my mood now.

The Conspiracy--Part 3: Execution

Villanova won it last year but are they strong enough to repeat?

North Carolina was strong except when they lost to Indiana.  Same for Kansas--until they lost to TCU.  Duke is Duke.  Good, sometimes great.  Lose first round one year.  Win the whole thing the next.  Kentucky is always dangerous...except when they are not.

It was making my head swim.

I hated the uncertainty.  How to make sure I had the perfect picks.  Which, when you really think about it (and I obviously was not), is ridiculous because I have never even had mediocre picks.  There has to be some kind of model that will help me.  For &%#(*&'s sake--I'm 1-11 against the one person that hates college basketball.  Doesn't follow it.  Doesn't know it.  Could care less--even when she wins.

I needed help.  Probably as much mentally as intellectually.  I needed someone with a pure basketball intellect.  I couldn't believe I was even contemplating the extreme option I was about to undertake.

"You must be thinking about me again"

The Conspiracy--Part 2: The Dogfather

She hated these moments.

As much as she needed the help.  As much as she wanted this whole thing to go away.  She really didn't want to take this step.

Danielle looked up at the door and took a deep breath.  Just as she raised her hand to knock, the door opened slightly.  The face of a nine-year old peered out.

"Come in.  He's been expecting you."

"Really, Izzy?  I mean, really?  Am I supposed to believe you are like his henchman, or something?"

"Be quiet Mom.  He might hear you.  The last thing I need is to be on his (*finger quotes*) list.  Besides, it's my room.  I come with the scenery."

"Where's your brother?"

"Inside--someone has to fan his Royal Furriness"

The Conspiracy--Part I: The Meeting

Danielle was impatiently waiting for her children to get in the house after the 3:30 daily deposit by the school bus.

"Hurry up and get in here!  We need to talk"

Without taking off his coat, Nate headed to the garage and grabbed his basketball.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to play basketball", Nate said as he started dribbling in the kitchen.

Danielle grabbed the ball.  "Don't give me another reason to want to put you up for adoption.  I already have plenty.  I told you before school that we had to have a family meeting after school while your Dad was still at work."

"Is this the NCAA thing again?"