The Worst Case

I happened to go to an Ann Arbor bar last night. Readers may recall that Ann Arbor is where the University of Michigan -- often the focus of this blog's analytical endeavors -- is located. The basketball team of said University had a game last night against Utah State in the NIT, and there was indeed a basketball game on the various televisions scattered around the bar: Niagara-Florida A&M. At some point during the night a man in a Michigan hat approached the bartender, who nodded and went to the box-and-wire filled cabinet all bars that have televisions also have and fiddled with some stuff. Channels were being changed. The Niagara game blipped out of existence. In its stead was the Red Wings game.

If there had been no Wings game, the man would have asked for the Pistons game. If there had been no Pistons game, the man would have asked for NASCAR. If there had been no Wings game or Pistons game or NASCAR the man would have asked for the World's Strongest Man or bass fishing or possibly The View. At no point would the NIT flit across his neurons -- or those anyone with any sanity at all, really -- even to be dismissed with a short sharp burst of self-mocking laughter. The NIT does not exist. There is no NIT.

It's with some concern, then, that our athletic director hasn't announced anything in re: Amaker having honey smeared on his chest, a box taped above the sweetened area, and a rat placed in said box until he agrees to resign except "I won't announce anything until after the season." Does Michigan's performance in something that doesn't exist have an impact on Amaker's future? The implication is that it does, and therefore the implication is that a good performance can help Amaker's case. Furthermore, it implies that there is an Amaker case at all. There is no case. Michigan can win the entire freakin' Not Extant Tournament and it will matter not one bit. He should still have the rat thing happen to him, and if he's still recalcitrant we will connect small rocks to him with rubber bands and then hire dutch children to run away from him holding the rocks with predictable results.

This is the worst of all possible basketball worlds. If we had blown it against Minnesota earlier in the year or gotten swept by State or gone down to Six Guys With One Arm Between Them in the nonconference slate and finished the year a striking 12-20 and 6-10 in the league, at this very moment we would be doing the rat thing and the dutch children thing and if he still doesn't break we would be forcing him to drink just epic amounts of water and then providing only one possible outlet for the ensuing torrent, one that has a piece of paper on it that says "urination upon this contract constitutes a resignation from the Michigan Men's basketball head coaching job."

Instead, we wait. And if we can't find timbersports or the WNBA or Mind of Mencia, we might watch. But probably not.