SAN ANTONIO -- If this is going to be the best Final Four of all time, as the seedings suggest and the spin masters insist, it better get better in a hurry. Because Friday was all about ugly.
Sometimes ugly is good. My Mohawk, for example. So ugly, it's good.
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| Rodrick Stewart pounds the floor after fracturing his right kneecap. (AP) |
This happened as Kansas was wrapping up its public practice. Thousands of fans were watching as the Jayhawks went from the high of a dunk drill to the low of Stewart's career-ending injury.
"It's disappointing to have this happen," said Kansas junior Brandon Rush. "It's bringing us down right now, but we'll have to rise above it and go out and play our game."
As Stewart was writhing in pain on the court, another kind of ugly was happening down the hall that led from the floor to the locker rooms: Larry Brown was giving interviews.
Yes, that Larry Brown.
The Larry Brown who has coached, or almost coached, or tried to coach, every program in this Final Four, along with half the franchises in the NBA. Brown played for North Carolina and wanted to replace UNC coach Bill Guthridge after he resigned in 2000. He didn't get the chance, probably in part because he did coach Kansas and UCLA ... and got both schools in trouble with the NCAA. Brown took the UCLA job in 1979 after interviewing for the opening at Memphis -- then known as Memphis State. He and current Memphis coach John Calipari are thick as thieves.
What I'm saying is, Brown has a vested interest in all four teams. He's a nice story, if he weren't Larry Brown. But he is, so I'm not going to tell you anything he said Friday. Other than his disclosure that he will wear black at the games, so as to not lean too far in any direction. Great idea, Larry, but here's a better one: Go away. Watch the Final Four from a television set. It's on CBS, you know.
Speaking of CBS, you know how we do that cheesy emotional One Shining Moment montage after the championship game? UCLA point guard Darren Collison attacked its character, having the nerve to say, "Personally I'm kind of tired of the music. I'm not trying to be mean, but it's just ... you hear it so many times."
I was going to suggest Collison try to actually win a championship before denigrating my favorite song, but I didn't have the chance. Because Collison was now hearing the song one more time. Sitting next to him on the podium, teammate Kevin Love broke into lyrics.
"The ball is tipped and there you are ..."
Love can't sing. But he can shoot, with range extending to 90 feet. Love wowed the crowd Friday by drilling shots from half-court, 70 feet and then the entire length of the floor. The physics of throwing a chest past 90 feet, and doing it with accuracy, are absurd. Memphis' Derrick Rose has spent a few minutes with Love in San Antonio, and he thinks he knows Love's secret.
