Under the Big Red Sky

Some would say that driving for five hours each way in a process that gets you back home at 6 a.m. to ensure the following few days will all feel like a Vegas Sunday, only to see your team lose by 17 points is insane. Crazy. Absurd.

But they're dead wrong.

Last night I got to see Cornell play in the Sweet Sixteen.

That is something I never thought I'd get a chance to write, much less do.

Yes, we got blown out. We were, frankly, overmatched. The first half kind of felt like this (h/t to Simmons). It was like watching the smoke monster tear through the Anothers.

But goddamnit, I was there. I hopped in a car, drove to Syracuse knowing that I'd have to drive back immediately following the game, and watched Cornell play in the Sweet Sixteen.

Of course it was a home game. Let me tell you, I've been to a Texas-Oklahoma football game. And that was like being strapped under a jet. Now, I don't know if it was the fact that this was a dome and the sound was bouncing down from the roof, and I don't know if you can say that it was the same level of noise.

But it was close. There were points last night at the Carrier Dome -- when Cornell cut the lead down to six, for instance -- where I thought the place would achieve lift-off.

What a crowd. That was amazing.

Some of you from other schools might think that it's no big deal. But for a school like ours, this has never happened before. And it will be years before this happens again. It is unprecedented.

But I was there and I got to see Cornell play in the Sweet Sixteen.

And that, my friends, is priceless.