Well, fairy tales don't always come true---that was proved again last night. Cinderella went to the ball, but, on the way, she had a tragic accident---and was eaten by the Big Bad Wolf from another fairy tale. I am of course referring to the N.C.A.A. basketball championship game between Michigan State, the representatives of the downtrodden masses and folk hero for Everyman, and North Carolina, that well-oiled machine and wearer of the black hat.
Sorry, folks, but that's the way the old basketball bounces and virtue doesn't always triumph. The Tar Heels did a demolition job on the Spartans, building up an insurmountable 55-34 halftime lead and then coasting in neutral in the second half to an 89-72 romp. And they did it with surgical precision at mach three speed. I have never seen quicker--and so many---hands stealing balls, blocking the lanes and controlling rebounds. It was the consummate team performance with all starting five and a host of talented subs all making it look oh so easy.
Michigan State had become a kind of symbol for our hard times of today: a working class bunch of over-achievers rising to the occasion and surprising the sporting crowds with their path to the final. And playing in Detroit, that urban symbol of today's malaise, was the perfect setting to play out a potental morality play.
Life does not always provide storybook endings, as we have all learned. So, our condolences, Cinderella, but our admiration for the Big Bad Wolf from Carolina. I sure don't want to meet him in the woods!
Overall, the Worst. Tournament. Ever.
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