Atlanta ? Row M3, Seat 54.
My seat at the Final Four semifinal game between Kansas and Maryland put me below the free-throw line facing KU’s bench. I looked straight into the eyes of reserve Chris Zerbe.
It placed me so close to the maple-wood court that I could feel the vibration of players jumping around and hear the thud of each bouncing basketball.
For somebody who hasn’t experienced games in Allen Fieldhouse in a few years, the view was stunning. And as a noon-hour hoops enthusiast, the action was exhilarating.
“Stay calm,” I told myself. “It’s just five-on-five basketball.”
I took a swig from an NCAA-approved Diet Pepsi to calm my nerves. I decide to concentrate on something else, and so I stare at sports writer celebrity John Feinstein’s mismatched white tube socks.
Not even a fan obsessively yelling to the ESPN section, “Linda Cohn, I love you!” slowed my pounding heart.
And why should it? This was the Final Four, the center of the college basketball universe. This was hooptopia.
Yes, KU lost the game. But I will not lose the thrill of sitting at the table with more than 53,000 fans for this basketball feast.
Atlanta ? Row M3, Seat 54.
My seat at the Final Four semifinal game between Kansas and Maryland put me below the free-throw line facing KU’s bench. I looked straight into the eyes of reserve Chris Zerbe.
It placed me so close to the maple-wood court that I could feel the vibration of players jumping around and hear the thud of each bouncing basketball.
For somebody who hasn’t experienced games in Allen Fieldhouse in a few years, the view was stunning. And as a noon-hour hoops enthusiast, the action was exhilarating.
“Stay calm,” I told myself. “It’s just five-on-five basketball.”
I took a swig from an NCAA-approved Diet Pepsi to calm my nerves. I decide to concentrate on something else, and so I stare at sports writer celebrity John Feinstein’s mismatched white tube socks.
Not even a fan obsessively yelling to the ESPN section, “Linda Cohn, I love you!” slowed my pounding heart.
And why should it? This was the Final Four, the center of the college basketball universe. This was hooptopia.
Yes, KU lost the game. But I will not lose the thrill of sitting at the table with more than 53,000 fans for this basketball feast.
Atlanta ? Row M3, Seat 54.
My seat at the Final Four semifinal game between Kansas and Maryland put me below the free-throw line facing KU’s bench. I looked straight into the eyes of reserve Chris Zerbe.
It placed me so close to the maple-wood court that I could feel the vibration of players jumping around and hear the thud of each bouncing basketball.
For somebody who hasn’t experienced games in Allen Fieldhouse in a few years, the view was stunning. And as a noon-hour hoops enthusiast, the action was exhilarating.
“Stay calm,” I told myself. “It’s just five-on-five basketball.”
I took a swig from an NCAA-approved Diet Pepsi to calm my nerves. I decide to concentrate on something else, and so I stare at sports writer celebrity John Feinstein’s mismatched white tube socks.
Not even a fan obsessively yelling to the ESPN section, “Linda Cohn, I love you!” slowed my pounding heart.
And why should it? This was the Final Four, the center of the college basketball universe. This was hooptopia.
Yes, KU lost the game. But I will not lose the thrill of sitting at the table with more than 53,000 fans for this basketball feast.
Atlanta ? Row M3, Seat 54.
My seat at the Final Four semifinal game between Kansas and Maryland put me below the free-throw line facing KU’s bench. I looked straight into the eyes of reserve Chris Zerbe.
It placed me so close to the maple-wood court that I could feel the vibration of players jumping around and hear the thud of each bouncing basketball.
For somebody who hasn’t experienced games in Allen Fieldhouse in a few years, the view was stunning. And as a noon-hour hoops enthusiast, the action was exhilarating.
“Stay calm,” I told myself. “It’s just five-on-five basketball.”
I took a swig from an NCAA-approved Diet Pepsi to calm my nerves. I decide to concentrate on something else, and so I stare at sports writer celebrity John Feinstein’s mismatched white tube socks.
Not even a fan obsessively yelling to the ESPN section, “Linda Cohn, I love you!” slowed my pounding heart.
And why should it? This was the Final Four, the center of the college basketball universe. This was hooptopia.
Yes, KU lost the game. But I will not lose the thrill of sitting at the table with more than 53,000 fans for this basketball feast.
Atlanta ? Seats in the Georgia Dome’s upper reaches offer a fine vantage point for watching NFL football.
James Thompson, a Jayhawk fan since his days living in Wichita, found that out the hard way. He spent $120 face value for a ticket to the Jayhawks’ game today at the Final Four and assessed his position in the fourth deck of the dome Friday during KU’s practice.
It’s nearly the length of a football field away from Roy Williams’ seat on the bench. For Thompson, there will be no discerning whether Williams is feeling confident before tonight’s showdown with Maryland. He won’t be able to detect the rising tension of Terrapin players as they fight another KU onslaught.
Heck, Thompson will need binoculars to ID the type of fruit-flavored basketball that substitutes for the “o” in Final Four logo at center court. (It’s a peach.)
There will be about 20,000 people in the same predicament. It comes down to numbers. A crowd of 55,000 has to sit somewhere.
Know what? It doesn’t matter.
“A guy followed me up there to the seat,” Thompson said. “He offered me $500 for the ticket. I didn’t take it.”
Atlanta ? Seats in the Georgia Dome’s upper reaches offer a fine vantage point for watching NFL football.
James Thompson, a Jayhawk fan since his days living in Wichita, found that out the hard way. He spent $120 face value for a ticket to the Jayhawks’ game today at the Final Four and assessed his position in the fourth deck of the dome Friday during KU’s practice.
It’s nearly the length of a football field away from Roy Williams’ seat on the bench. For Thompson, there will be no discerning whether Williams is feeling confident before tonight’s showdown with Maryland. He won’t be able to detect the rising tension of Terrapin players as they fight another KU onslaught.
Heck, Thompson will need binoculars to ID the type of fruit-flavored basketball that substitutes for the “o” in Final Four logo at center court. (It’s a peach.)
There will be about 20,000 people in the same predicament. It comes down to numbers. A crowd of 55,000 has to sit somewhere.
Know what? It doesn’t matter.
“A guy followed me up there to the seat,” Thompson said. “He offered me $500 for the ticket. I didn’t take it.”
Atlanta ? Seats in the Georgia Dome’s upper reaches offer a fine vantage point for watching NFL football.
James Thompson, a Jayhawk fan since his days living in Wichita, found that out the hard way. He spent $120 face value for a ticket to the Jayhawks’ game today at the Final Four and assessed his position in the fourth deck of the dome Friday during KU’s practice.
It’s nearly the length of a football field away from Roy Williams’ seat on the bench. For Thompson, there will be no discerning whether Williams is feeling confident before tonight’s showdown with Maryland. He won’t be able to detect the rising tension of Terrapin players as they fight another KU onslaught.
Heck, Thompson will need binoculars to ID the type of fruit-flavored basketball that substitutes for the “o” in Final Four logo at center court. (It’s a peach.)
There will be about 20,000 people in the same predicament. It comes down to numbers. A crowd of 55,000 has to sit somewhere.
Know what? It doesn’t matter.
“A guy followed me up there to the seat,” Thompson said. “He offered me $500 for the ticket. I didn’t take it.”
Atlanta ? Seats in the Georgia Dome’s upper reaches offer a fine vantage point for watching NFL football.
James Thompson, a Jayhawk fan since his days living in Wichita, found that out the hard way. He spent $120 face value for a ticket to the Jayhawks’ game today at the Final Four and assessed his position in the fourth deck of the dome Friday during KU’s practice.
It’s nearly the length of a football field away from Roy Williams’ seat on the bench. For Thompson, there will be no discerning whether Williams is feeling confident before tonight’s showdown with Maryland. He won’t be able to detect the rising tension of Terrapin players as they fight another KU onslaught.
Heck, Thompson will need binoculars to ID the type of fruit-flavored basketball that substitutes for the “o” in Final Four logo at center court. (It’s a peach.)
There will be about 20,000 people in the same predicament. It comes down to numbers. A crowd of 55,000 has to sit somewhere.
Know what? It doesn’t matter.
“A guy followed me up there to the seat,” Thompson said. “He offered me $500 for the ticket. I didn’t take it.”
