Please stop the NCAA tournament cliché madness

Maybe it's because of all those years working at newspapers in North Carolina, but there are quite a few clichés associated with the NCAA tournament that seem to be used more with every passing year. And they also seem to irritate me even more every year.


Let's get one basic common error out of the way. If you, like I do most often, call it the NCAA tournament, the first "t" in tournament is lower-case since the official name is the NCAA Basketball Championship. And why would you refer to the event as "the NCAAs" if you'd never call the ACC tournament "the ACCs" or the NIT "the NITs"?


I don't object to a cliché when there is some logic to it. Sweet 16 to describe the regional-semifinal round is probably overused, but at least it makes sense: It's the round of 16. Elite 8 or Great 8 both are valid, although I prefer the regional finals. 

Obviously Final Four makes sense, but it's funny when people talk about Final Fours before 1982 since the name was not yet used. Back then, it was referred to as the "NCAA Basketball Finals."


The Tar Heels played in the last one that was called the "NCAA Basketball Finals" (above) in 1981 and the first that was called the "Final Four" in 1982 (right).


But there are plenty that irritate me and make little sense.


In 1939, the Illinois high school basketball tournament started using March Madness as a nickname. Please, let's let the Illinois folks have it for themselves! Unfortunately, I believe it was Brent Musberger who started using it to describe the NCAA tournament while covering it for CBS and it's become very popular.


I've just gotten tired of this phrase and wish people didn't use it as much. It's also become a lot less valid since just about every Final Four is played in April these days. The Tar Heels won the 1957 title on March 23 and the 1982 title on March 29. But the other titles all have come after March: April 5, 1993, April 4, 2005 and April 6, 2009. 


Of the next seven Final Fours, every championship game will be played in April and the only semifinal day to be played in March will be March 31, 2012.


Sometimes as kids we didn't always get a date to the big dance and being able to go was a big deal. So somebody unfortunately came up with the idea that getting an NCAA tournament berth was similar and decided to call it the Big Dance. Sadly, it's caught on.


While I can see arguments for March Madness, I can't see any valid arguments for the Big Dance. It's not a dance, it's a tournament! And it's spawned countless other phrases. Teams that earn a berth are said to be "dancing" and being added to the "dance card." Hate it.


In the weeks leading to Selection Sunday (a phrase that makes sense), we hear a lot about teams being "on the bubble." That's overused, but it makes sense. Years ago, CBS used to use the phrase "on the fence" instead, and on the bubble actually seems more logical.


Of course the most irritating part of this year's NCAA tournament is that -- barring a miraculous run of four wins in four days by my Tar Heels in Greensboro this week at the ACC tournament -- it won't include my Tar Heels. Then again, they could become the first program to win the NCAA title one year and the NIT the next.

A possible solution for this rushing-the-court problem

The NCAA has to do something about crowds rushing the court before somebody gets hurt, particularly in places such as College Park.

I was overjoyed, of course, that Maryland defeated Duke on Wednesday night at the (Corporate name redacted because I hate corporate names) Center. But when students are storming the court like that, it really is dangerous for the visiting team.

It didn't help that the clock stopped with less than a second left to allow more students to gather at the edge of the course just before time expired.

I see no reason to ban rushing the court as long as it is reserved for big victories over a team ranked much more highly than your team. But I've seen students rush the court when the victory wasn't big enough.

Here's my compromise: Once the game clock goes to all zeros, the shot clock starts. No fans are allowed on the court until those 35 seconds have expired. That gives the visiting team time to quickly shake hands with the players and coaches on the other team and hustle to the dressing room before the mayhem begins.

If fans storm the court before the shot clock expires, the school is warned. The second time it happens, the home team forfeits that game.

The SEC has a system in place that fines schools when fans storm the court. Unless they pay the fine by increasing student fees, I doubt that this is going to change the behavior of students (didn't seem to stop South Carolina students after the Gamecocks upset Kentucky). But students who are proud and happy about the big win aren't going to want that victory to be forfeited.

No, you can't control what the students are going to do. But if there are rules with teeth in place, you can bet that places where there is a problem, such as Maryland, will take steps to make sure this doesn't happen again.

I'll say this for Duke: I've watch Carolina's games at Cameron Indoor Stadium the past four years and haven't seen the Cameron Crazies rush the court once. Wait. I guess there's a reason for that. :)

As for the profane chants at Maryland games? Those are, of course, over the top. And it should be pointed out that they also are yelled in unison. It's not one or two rogue fans. But I better not hear any Duke fans complaining about them.

If you've ever been to Cameron Indoor Stadium for a game, you know what I'm talking about.

I remember covering a Duke-Florida State game during the Charlie Ward era. Ward was about to make an  inbounds pass in front of me when a Duke student leaned over me and yelled something about two feet away from Ward.

I won't say exactly what was yelled, but he basically asked if Ward performed a certain sexual act on Seminoles football coach Bobby Bowden. And he was extremely direct with his query.

Ward didn't even flinch, to his credit.

But if he was in that mob scene in College Park, he probably would have. And he played college football!

NIT game in Carmichael?

Because of renovations that are supposed to be made at the Smith Center, I'm hearing that Carolina athletics officials have decided to play any NIT home games in Carmichael, although nothing has been announced.


If that happened, I'm crossing my fingers that a game will be played the weekend of March 19th-21st because I'm in town anyway to run the Tobacco Road Marathon.

I was so excited talking about it that my 16-year-old son asked me If I'd rather watch UNC win a national championship in the Smith Center on the big screen or see a men's game in Carmichael. Because I never thought it would happen again, I might lean toward the game in Carmichael.

Some of my fondest memories as a kid are going to Carolina basketball games with my dad. 

The top memory? No doubt it was March 2, 1974.

I was sitting on the aisle along the front row behind Mitch Kupchak when he made the inbounds pass from the baseline to Walter Davis, who banked in a 35-foot jumper at the regulation buzzer to send the Duke game into overtime. I then ran out on the floor and patted Walter on the back. If you ever see the tape, I'm the kid wearing blue jeans and a yellow Adidas T-shirt. It capped a comeback from eight points down with 17 seconds left (with no 3-point shot) and the Heels won in overtime 96-92.

A game there would be terrific.

I'll try to ignore the fact that the official name of the facility inexplicably has been changed from Carmichael Auditorium to Carmichael Arena. 

Reports on records should be fair to past athletes/teams

It always irritates to me when I hear that an athlete/team earned the most wins/medals in the history of the event and there is no attempt to make a fair comparison to the effort that was surpassed.

NFL teams play more games than years ago. College athletes can play four years now while years ago they could play only three. There are countless other examples that show that feats by today's athletes aren't as impressive as they sound because they are given more chances.

Tyler Hansbrough is one of my favorite all time Carolina basketball players and I'm proud that he's the school's all-time leading scorer. But he played four seasons and 142 games to get his 2,872 points. His career average of 20.3 points per game isn't even in the top five in Carolina history.

Lennie Rosenbluth leads in that category with a 26.9 average, but his 2,045 points is only fourth. Rosenbluth played three seasons, including for the 1957 national champions, and the three players ahead of him played four seasons.

The latest example of my frustrations in this regard comes with the end of the Winter Olympics and reports that Canada broke the record for most gold medals in a Winter Games with 14 and that the United States broke the record for most medals in a Winter Games with 37.

That's all correct. But with the addition of snowboarding and other events, there are a lot more chances to win medals.

Canada's 14 gold medals beat the previous mark of 13 set by Norway in 2002 and the Soviet Union in 1976.

Since Canada had 86 chances to win gold and only won 16.28 percent, its effort isn't nearly as impressive as the Soviets' accomplishment in Innsbruck. It was better than Norway's 16.25 percent of the gold medals in Salt Lake City (13 of 80). But the Soviets won 35.14 percent of the gold medals since there were only 37 available in 1976. Wonder who won the half-pipe gold medal that year?

As for the the Americans' record of 37 total medals? There were 258 medals awarded, so the USA won 14.34 percent of the medals. That beat the 36-medal effort by Germany in 2002, when there were only 234 medals available. That means Germany won a higher percentage with 15.38 percent.

Canada and the United States should be proud of their respective medal hauls in Vancouver, but their efforts clearly weren't as impressive than the records they beat. Regarding the gold-medal record, it's not even close.

How many reports will put the records in perspective? I'm still waiting for the first one.