All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongue as the Spirit enabled them. — Acts 2:4
I am not a composed observer of basketball. Movies? Sure. Opera? Musical Theater? Yeah. Concerts? I go with the quiet sway or foot tap. But basketball? I’m what you might call demonstrative.
At the half, it’s UNC 35 – WSU 21, the largest lead of the game, on a three pointer by Ty Lawson as the clock winds down. My eruption was something unintelligible, but put into written word, looks something like:
Hunh! Hoo! GRRRrrrYYYYYYEAAA! Unh. Unh. Unh. Unh. Mf ha. Mf ha Mfa. AAAha Ahuh, Aha aha aha. WOOOOOO HOOOOOO!!
The dance was a hybrid Blues Brothers/Tiger Woods/PsychoT Celebration… and it was ugly.
LET’S GO HEELS!
[Update: Wooo! UNC 68 – WSU 47. And the March-stache reappears.]