Julius Hodge woke up sore Monday morning. I know this because I'm a man -- in the literal sense, not in some macho who's-the-blond-in-the-corner way.
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I speak from experience, an experience shared with, oh, about three billion other men. All ya'll dudes who have ever been blasted in the package, give me shout out -- in agony.
Yeah, I know. I'm wincing, too. So is Hodge, North Carolina's fine senior swingman. He was the victim of a sucker punch to the, uh, groin area in the first half Sunday night during Wake Forest's 55-53 victory
The Deacons' previously angelic Chris Paul did the honors, from behind no less. The two were jostling for position and, you know, with so much on the line this month, the previously sainted Paul couldn't help himself.
It was the dirtiest play of the season. Paul has been called the mayor of Winston-Salem. In that moment, he was the agent of Satan himself. Sorry to Gottlieb you, Chris old man, but there it is.
Thing is, no foul was called. The fans at the RBC Center saw the replay in luxury suites and TV monitors on the scorer's table. Hodge's brother came out of the stands to yell at Paul and had to be restrained by security.
Cable sports networks showed the assault over and over. Three billion men were telepathically conveyed the experience. You see, each one of us in the brotherhood felt Hodge's pain in some small way. It's written in to our hereditary contract.
Thank goodness Wake Forest did the right thing and suspended Paul for Friday's ACC Tournament opener. With that decisive act, the school showed a huge amount of what Paul tried to hit. It's not likely the Demon Deacons will lose their opening-round game, but Paul is their best player. A No. 1 seed arguably still is riding on the results of the conference tournament.
I am now sure the term "going balls out" was invented by a cloistered, octogenarian nun. No man would ever conceive of such a phrase.
I'll be at four conference tournaments this week gauging the tensile strength of the NCAA bracket. So stuck in a hotel room in St. Louis waiting for the Missouri Valley Tournament to tip, Chris Paul falls in my -- how to put this delicately? -- lap.
So now we know March is here, round housed right into our living room with a despicable act. Tournament berths, shoe deals, NBA draft position, millions in contracts are at stake, flat-out desperation to win at any cost.
A few years back the NCAA eliminated the so-called "$100,000 free throw" by instituting equitable distribution of NCAA Tournament revenue. Apparently, it wasn't enough. Money divided by 31 Division I conferences is still money.
I just got done watching a full season of my daughter's seventh-grade basketball team. I saw scratches, elbows, scrapes, a technical, even trash talking. One point guard seemed to use her lengthy ponytail as a weapon to whip against defenders who got too close.
