Winters for Three....

What does someone, who has dedicated so much of his time and energy to basketball, do after the season ends?
Mope around in dejected purposelessness?
Actually begin focusing on that little annoyance called classwork?
How about reigniting all of the old friendships that went to waste over my various roadtrips.
Zilch, nada, (chuckle).

There is no such transition for this beat writer and obsessive-compulsive observer of all things Davidson. After spending nearly 18 hours of my weekend compiling video clips, I feel like I have a pretty good feel for Davidson's offensive sets. Although I still don't know what it means when the players yell "Duhneely," I have figured that it is some effective formula for putting the ball in the basket.

Heck, after watching all of this film, I don't understand how an opponent doesn't completely key on all of our tendencies. Ian trailing the play, Brendan's drive-pullups, J-mo on backdoor baselines, Kenny driving the paint on big guy seals. After a while, it really begins to get boring seeing all the same guys keep shooting that ball into that hoop. Maybe I should dedicate my time to something more productive, like my research paper on Maurice Barres and the rise of French nationalism at the turn of the century...or not. I can watch Brendan hit one more reverse layup. And one more. And one more...

Have I said anything in this post? Perhaps, but it surely seems self-evident. Although most of what writers say is self-evident to the people who are smart enough to already know it. In that case, consider yourself an intellectual....