SbB @ Final Four: KU-Memphis Live Blog (1st Half)

Long vs. Deep

Welcome to the NCAA Men’s Basketball Championship Game, otherwise known as The Last Chance to Make Back the Money You Lost on Your Brackets. Brooks has descended on San Antonio for the pinnacle of amateur sports, the podium for the purity of the human spirit, the reward for young men’s desire to succeed for the pride of their scho…

… no, but seriously, Brooks is at the Alamodome tonight for the game. We’ll be getting live reports from him all night. You can see his weekend report at FOXSPORTS.COM.

I will be your master of ceremonial snarkery, Tuffy. I’m drinking beer from Wisconsin tonight, so expect the repartee to be plodding and painful but fundamentally sound.

I have declared this matchup to be Ballistic: Long vs. Deep in honor of the incessant drilling by analysts and announcers that Memphis’ players are long and tall (which is just directionally long) while Kansas’ bench is so deep that Jessica McClure once fell in and required $2 million in rescue equipment and a nation’s love to get her some PT.

Also, there’s every chance it will stink as bad as Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever. The last eight championship games have had one thriller, one decent night of entertainment, and six stink bombs.

Having said that, we’re rooting for these collection of men that have offed the hopes of elderly columnists and lazy analysts that found poetry in Kevin Love’s familial connections and passion in Tyler Hansbrough’s constipated face while Chris Douglas-Roberts, Brandon Rush, and Derrick Rose frantically waved their hands at the crowd.

Here’s a taste of the weekend’s festivities from Brooks:

Memphis fan

This will leave an unfortunate burn pattern in the morning.

Walking to the game (from Memphis?)

This was taken on the way to the Alamodome. If the dragon had a vote, he would have been removed with lasers five years ago. Fantasy mercy killing.

Sizzler Sisters at Alamodome

I’m sure they were great, but they’re no Sizzler Sisters.

Sizzler Sisters in Canada

Oh, and in case you thought I forgot…

Memphis and KU cheerleaders

Tuffy provides.

I’ll be back at 9:15 pm ET to deliver the CBS-approved storylines and make a prediction. Until then, let me know in the comments below: who ya got?

Prelude to an Advertiser Kiss has started with a Pavlovian reference and the always-brave chalk lover, Clark Kellogg. While we wait for the game to start (shortly before midnight), let’s enjoy more San Antonio flavor from Brooks:

Final Four Elvis family

The Graceland breeding program in the 70s had unfortunate effects on the local population.

Final Four Memphis Tigers fans

The Eighties were grrrrrrrreat! (Okay, that’s really cute. I hope they have many litters together.)

Final Four Memphis fans light up

When they find the third Musketeer, they’re going to be too sweet for words.

Here are your CBS-approved storylines (updated during pregame show):

  • Derrick Rose endorses Frosted Flakes. Frosted Flakes and Gummi Bears. Breakfast of champions.
  • Bill Self never puts any pressure on his players ever (when the camera is on).
  • Clark Kellogg names the entire Memphis squad as important. Way to be brave, Chalk Kellogg.
  • Memphis? Free throws? What do you mean? There’s no such narrative here. Move along.
  • Bill Self’s toupee is held on by melted gummi bears; look for this story to turn grotesque in the second half when Derrick Rose has a sugar crash.

huh. 3 Doors Down spells their useless band name with a numeral, but Coke Zero spells their useless drink name with a word. Fascinating. Is it time yet?

Prediction: Memphis 73-67. I’ve always liked Long over Deep. (Don’t judge.)

First Half
20:00 Christ, the commercials are done? I’m not ready! Viva Viagra?

Brooks update: The arena is 70-30 KU fans. You’d travel, too, if your other choice was to stay in Lawrence. (We kid from love, Jayhawks.)

15:30 9-5 Memphis. Chris Berman has been working on a Seal reference for Derrick Rose’s bank shot all week. Also, he will be eating gummi bears during the highlights tonight, but that’s coincidence.

Billy Packer thinks Chicago is the size of a large McDonald’s Playland and all Chicago players have one court to share. Could he declare the game over soon and head to the airport? Thanks.

Kimbo Slice is an Internet sensation, but so is Tay Zonday. I’m not watching him every Saturday night all summer.

15:10 9-7 Memphis. KAAAAAAAAAAAAAUN! is long. Shouldn’t he be a Tiger?

12:00 13-13. Not that this has been a rough tourney, but this is the first time in the Final Four that I’ve had to figure out what to do with a tie score. It’s been a frenetic first half, but you won’t be surprised to know neither team is shooting over 46% from the floor.

Brooks update: Roy Williams has seats on the floor (yawn) and has on a Kansas lapel pin (WTF?). Brooks is working on a picture because I keep insisting.

7:00 Kansas 24-21. Joey Dorsey’s length scares women, children, and Kansas big men. However, Memphis’ defense doesn’t scare anyone. Why?

Brooks update: The Memphis Tiger has been “backstage” for an awfully long time; that’s why. Did someone move his litter? Someone get that cat a towel.

Aaaand there’s the Roy Williams Kansas lapel. A Carolina fan behind Brooks swore rather loudly when the same shot was shown on the Alamodome video board.

4:00 28-28. CD-R has started spinning up on his drive. No one’s statistical data will be safe. Back up! Back up!

0:00 Kansas 33-28. Spinning down… spinning down… eject. The half ends in a staggering collapse of fatigue and hackery. Still, fifteen minutes of decent basketball tastes like Evian compared to the toilet-to-tap crap we’ve been sucking down recently.

If Kansas can hold the ball long enough to shoot the ball, it goes in. Even if Memphis can get off a decent shot, they’re better off shooting a free throw. Up is down. Left is right. Einhorn is Finkel. Finkel is Einhorn.

Let’s pour enough Coke Zero down the throats of these young men to fire up a comatose elephant and get a little more energy in the second stanza. I’ll join you on the other side in a new thread.