Oh Naismithius, how you let me down.
The other day I beseeched you, the Greek God of Hoops, to ensure the Louisville Cardinals would return to the hardwood Wednesday evening.
You, and you alone — Or So I Thought — could and would make it happen, if only to assuage the angst of this long time acolyte.
But noooooooooo, you apparently used your powers to manifest the free throw shooting prowess of arch rival instead. My solar plexus throbs in pain from the blow.
You let me down. I have moved on.
In hopes that such faith shall be answered, I have now pledged my troth to Baller, Viking God of Striiingmusingnum, Brother of Balder, Viking God of Tonsorialism, Brother of Thor, Viking God of Hunkorama Popcorn Cinema, son of Odin and Frigg, the true and only (non-golfing) residents of Valhalla.