So Carolina won. The spoiled NBA-ready brats who got their first coach fired won the title. Good for them. It would have been too sweet to see them blow a 15 point second half lead.
Too bad they don't award championships for heart and class. Our shots just didn't drop tonight, but our guys played to exhaustion, and there's not much else you can ask from them.
Rashard McCants is still a no-class punk, who disappeared in the second half, but took his shirt off in a typical "look at me" stunt. He's the guy who writes P.O.T.Y (Player of the Year) on his shoes, which is fine as long as we're all clear that the P stands for Punk.
If it wasn't for Sean May, these clowns would be nowhere near the title game.
Thank you Coach Weber. Thank you Illini for a memorable season. I will never ever forget that Arizona game. I will never forget your Final Four victory on Saturday.
Dee. Deron. Luther. James. Roger. Jack. Warren. Nick. Rich. Shaun. Fred.
You made us all very proud. You played old school. You passed up good shots to take great shots. You played intense defense. You were the best of what college basketball has to offer. You had the heart of a champion and never, ever, ever gave up.
Thank you. Let's do it again sometime.
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