Greetings from the basement!

I’m coming to you live from the bowels of the Lawrence Joel Coliseum.  If they hadn’t put decorative blue curtains all over the place, I’d be afraid someone was going to hang me from a ceiling and use a car battery to shock me into telling secrets I don’t know. I wish I was joking.  But oh well…there’s a basket full of Snickers bars.
Anyway, I had a really interesting moment today–the Tom Izzo presser.  That was even more interesting than the Bob Knight presser in a people-watching sort of way.  The Knight presser was, well, Bobby Knight.  The Izzo presser, however, was full of Midwesterners, a group with which I have limited experience.
Clarification–I have limited experience with white people from the Midwest.  Man, they all sounded like characters from Fargo.  The accents were something I’d never heard in person.  Kinda cute, to be honest, and I’ve never classified a group of people as cute.
Black people from the Midwest are different.  They sound like me–Southern.  Because, well, they generally are.  Hooray Great Migration!
Time to find my hotel.  Long day of games tomorrow.
And thanks to anyone that made it to the chat.  It was a lot of fun, and more than my mother showed up.  That made me feel much better.