Monday's....Margarita: Wastin' Away, One Post at a Time

What can I say?....while on vacay, a margarita goes down so much more smoothly than...meatloaf.

Sixteen years ago I wrote a letter. I was nearing the end of my years at UGA and had a bug in my britches over an article I'd read. It seems one Mark Bradley had it in for a man I held in high esteem - Dean Smith.

In the spring of 1993, Dean Smith was one of college basketball's greatest coaches...but had managed just one national title. Bradley thought Cincinnati the better team and threw the Heels to the curb and Deano under the bus.

My letter scolded Bradley and ensured him that he would be eating a slice of "humble pie" by the end of the tournament. No doubt drawing from my over confident collegiate cognizance, the Tarheels beat Huggins' Bearcats on their way to an impressive national title run. To help you gain the visual - it was aided in part by a Chris Webber TO....problem was Meechigan didn't have one to spare at the time.

I've searched my "archives" (aka - the deepest depths of my closet) for the actual letter. No luck. But trust me - it was quite the masterpiece. Nothing like those AJC forums that devolve into a crap load of claptrap. It was well written, to the point, succinctly versed...and undoubtedly had a lasting impact on whoever was Mr. Bradley's intern at the time.

I mention this only because later today UNC goes for another nat'l title tonight; possibly their second under Roy Williams. UNC is my pseudo collegiate basketball dance partner...you know since as a native Athenian the Dawgs rarely provided the exposure a pre-pubsecent mind could really grasp hold of for longer than a season.

That and Mr. Bradley is now following me in the "tweetosphere". No, he never responded to my letter back in 1993. Not even when the Tarheels proved up to the challenge against a difficult regional. Not even when one of the greatest coaches in the history of the game cut down the nets in New Orleans after defeating Meechigan's Fab Five.

Not even when my humble pie was fresh from the oven. A dallop of Cool-Whip Mr. Bradley?

There's a small chance Bradley may read this. Maybe he'll respond below. Maybe he'll hit me up in a "tweet". 

Maybe not. Regardless....Go Heels! Spartans mothers have too high of expectations...

Add these to a cool pitcher and stir well:

• Yoculan's GymDogs reign'd supreme in the NCAA regionals behind the leadership of Kupets and McCool. Kupets was selected Southeast Regional Gymnast of the Year. Now it is on to the NCAA Finals in Lincoln Nebraska Thursday. 
• While on the subject of women's sports, Maya Moore ran away with the women's NCAA player of the year honors. Kid grew up within miles of Bernie, but he takes no credit for the talent she graces the hardcourt with.
• Speaking of ending a sentence with a preposition, check out MikeinValdosta's comment to this Logan Gray profile for a great joke...
• Steve Hummer has a nice piece on our new hoops coach, h/t PWD.
• And as usual, bulldog in exhile puts into words my exact feelings on the hire much better than I could muster my own damn self...
• The Diamond Dawgs had a tough weekend, dropping two of three to LSU. They look to rebound against Winthrop at Foley Tuesday and Wednesday.
• But the men's tennis team defeated Alabama 4-2 at Dan Magill.
  
• David Hale has a feature on the J-K-G front; if you're unfamiliar, #95 may try to make it more recognizable this fall.
• The Senator has the latest in KiffyBaby's recruiting saga from Pahokee...
• I can't decide if Greg Gumbel is just an idiot or legitimately got punk'd. Maybe you will have better luck. Either way though....this puts the friv in frivilous.
• And lastly, speaking of gettin' punk'd...if you missed the now legendary Mike Campo teaching Terrance "Less Would Be" Moore a lesson in humility, check out the first bullet in Hale's Thursday links. 
• Mr. Campo, your cash is no good at Bernie's Bar. Well done my friend. Well done.

If there's a site more beautiful than your little girls enjoying a heated pool beside the beach you just left, begging you to take a dip as you finish your (very) cold beer...brother, I don't know what it is. I'll take five more days of this before I meet you in Athens reader. Don't forget your canned goods. 

As a matter of fact waiter...I would like a refill. 

Gotta go! Salted or unsalted?

Bernie