Unless you happen to root for one o' them "smart guy" schools like Princeton or Cornell, it's hard to feel intellectual about watching college basketball. Watching big guys put a ball through a little hoop takes 5, maybe 6 IQ points.
So imagine my joy on finding this New Yorker piece. It gratifies both my love of college basketball and my gigantic intellectual pretensions. I haven't felt this way since I read "Paper Lion"!
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