Why are Bucknell and Holy Cross playing for an automatic bid to the NCAA tournament? These teams are horrible. I've watched better high school teams. I think Holy Cross combs the refuse of the worst parties in the known universe (on Caro St.) to get players 4-12 for every game. And somehow Bucknell is worse. I hate to break this to HC fans, but if Keith Simmons were any good (as opposed to the best player in the Patriot League and future third best player in the suburban Boston over-40 They Call Me Rubberneck League), he'd be playing in a better conference, like the MAAC or the NESCAC.

Meanwhile, Bucknell started a guard who cultivated an Ed Grimley look. I don't know if he lost a bet, but I hope to God that he isn't doing this because he thinks it's a good look. It tells you something about the quality of the team involved that the announcers just wondered how you get the vernacular pronunciation out of Worcester. And one of them just said "Pahk the cah in the pahking lot." Good. Make light of the accent, jackass. It's not my fault the game sucks and the teams suck. Drop dead.

If you haven't had a chance to watch any of this game, the paint is currently being dominated by a guy who looks like a cross between Mungo from Blazing Saddles and the Golem of Prague with as little athletic ability as you could imagine a college basketball player possessing. He flows to the ball like Randy from My Name is Earl doing the robot while Mr. Roboto plays in the strobe-lit room, only in real time and under normal lighting conditions. I'm only exaggerating slightly when I say that 00 for Holy Cross looks like a cross between Quentin Tarantino, Boo Radley and the Missing Link.

Then there is the festival of uggos that these schools parade out as cheerleaders. I think my watch stopped when ESPN2 showed the Bucknell group. I understand that these schools aren't drawing from the same talent pool that a USC or Florida has available, but even still...yikes. I wouldn't want to run into them in a dark alley. To say nothing of the line of but-her-faces in belly shirts with "Beat Bucknell" spelled across their beer guts.

I'm guessing at least one of these girls will be rejected with the six simple words: "I'm not gay, but I'll learn" at some point in her life. With apologies to Sir John Gielgud, the butler from Arthur, but you'd think you'd have to frequent bowling alleys to meet women of the same quality as the type haunting the Hart Center tonight. I almost feel sorry for the third-tier Congressmen who will make these young ladies their third-rate mistresses in the next decade.

Holy Cross point guard Torry Thomas is a resident advisor on his floor. Can you imagine Magic Johnson, Oscar Robinson, Pete Maravich, Larry Bird or any legitimately great college basketball player being an RA? Maybe I'm biased because my college RAs included a girl so nice that her administration was ironically referred to as a reign of terror (what can I say? I rolled with a dangerous crowd), a hippie that was one more story about Phish tour away from a grim death, an Asian girl who was afraid of her own shadow and the girl who is forever remembered as the woman who dated Bed Head, whose nickname ought to be self-explanatory. I don't know how I ended up with so many female RAs, maybe the school figured I was less likely to burn the dorm down that way.

I have to sign off here, as the announcer just informed me that a rebound was manly. If I hear Linda Cohn ask if Bob Knight is as talkative as he was last night in her best coy manner one more time I am going to storm the set in Bristol like Maximus busting out of the tunnel in the Spanish arena. Instead of shouting "Are you not entertained," I'll be shouting "You're With Me, Leather."

Before I go, I have this to say to the Bucknell coach: "I'm not buying any goddamn Bushmills I don't need Flannery." I'm sorry, but the guy looks like he was scared out of his wits one day and never quite recovered. By the way, that is a quote from State of Grace, a movie every man in America should see, especially with St. Pat's coming in a week and a day.