At the craziest time of year for college basketball, Colorado senior Askia Booker, the Buffaloes’ leading scorer, took his ball and went home rather than playing in a tournament alongside his teammates.
Basketball lovers might call Booker a quitter.
I think Booker might be the last sane man in America.
It’s March Madness, and it stopped being about basketball a long time ago. Yes, we love hoops. But, truth be told, we love the NCAA Tournament more for the easy excuse it provides us to stuff our pie holes with pizza, goof off at work, curse Kansas for messing up our bracket or schedule a vasectomy.
Welcome to the Big Dance, where 67 college teams will seek one shining moment while the future millionaires from Kentucky kill time until their real big thrill on the night of the NBA draft.
WATCH:
A Colorado State team that won 27 games didn’t get invited to the Big Dance, which, if I understand correctly, was such a crime against the little guy it threatened to break Twitter with outrage from thousands of incensed CSU supporters who wouldn’t bother to make the 90-minute drive from Denver to Moby Arena in Fort Collins if Dr. Tony Frank were giving away frosty, 16-ounce mugs filled with Fat Tire at halftime.
What I’m trying to say is: We’ve all jumped in the deep end of the office pool. All of us, me included, are drowning in the sweet, wretched excess of buzzer beaters and Cinderella stories and diaper dandies who haven’t been to class since Christmas.
And then there’s Booker, who might be the last person in America who clearly sees March Madness for what it actually is: A rationalization to avoid getting on with life, or at least put off spring cleaning, for another month.
Way back in November, when this basketball season was young and the young Buffs were full of promise, a prediction for the NCAA field of 68 was issued by Joe Lunardi, employed by ESPN as a bracketologist. (Hey, it beats working.) Four months ago, Lunardi projected CU as a No. 10 seed.
Then all those pretty hoop dreams by the Buffs went straight in the dumpster. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Center Josh Scott got hurt, CU scored 33 points in a game against Wyoming and coach Tad Boyle got so frustrated he wanted to fight somebody.
The Buffs finished with a 15-17 record. But don’t blame Booker. He led the offensively challenged Buffs with 17 points per game. Anybody who has ever watched Booker on the court knows his competitive spirit burns hot. The 21-year-old guard played hurt down the stretch, with aching hips.
When Colorado was invited to something called the College Basketball Invitational, which gives 16 bad to mediocre teams a chance to start practicing for next season and sell tickets to meaningless games, Booker politely said thanks but no thanks.
In order to let his body heal, prepare for a pro career (most likely overseas) and give younger teammates a chance to play, Booker declined to participate in the CBI, a third-tier tourney that has been in existence since 2008 and is filled by squads that aren’t strong enough to get a lousy NIT bid.
The Buffs play Gardner-Webb on Wednesday night in the Coors Events Center. If you want to spend 15 bucks on a ticket or call Booker a quitter, that’s your business.
But I call Booker an American hero.
Oh, he is not a hero in the same way a Marine or a fireman or a first-grade reading teacher is a hero.
Booker, however, recognized third-tier March Madness for the silliness it is, then did what was best for him.
The NCAA will earn more than $700 million in television revenue from this year’s tournament. In office pools across the country, it is estimated fans will wager more than $2 billion; if you fill out a bracket and oppose legalized sports gambling, you might be a hypocrite.
After every NCAA tournament game, the players are introduced as student-athletes, as if they are about to be rushed off to cram for a macroeconomics exam immediately after the question-and-answer session.
This isn’t a game. It’s a job.
Booker politely and respectively told CU to take this job and shove it.
Good for him.
Mark Kiszla: mkiszla@denverpost.com or
