April 13, 2006
Hoops, drinks and drama
On the evening of the NCAA finals, I dropped the ball.

Jill Brooks
INtake columnist

Basketball is in my blood; unfortunately I have a low resting pulse for such things.

My grandfather played basketball for the Hoosiers long ago, but I am the sorriest excuse for his legacy, ever.
People ask when and what position he played and I shrug saying, "Beats me, but his photo is up at Assembly Hall."

Musical instruments took over the hoop dreams of our immediate family; poor muscle-toned grandfather, he tried.

The night of this year's final NCAA game I was invited to Ruth's Chris Downtown by a group of guy friends.
I'd steered clear of the concerts on the circle, energy-sucking talk of basketball and tornadoes up till then.
I vacillated all day about going out, worried about finding decent parking and hair practicality during strong gusts of wind.

My friends, of course, had tickets to the game; I, of course, did not.

The evening carried more of a drinking theme for me, so I packed "going out" attire in my car just in case.
After work I made a split-second decision to meet them. Split-second decisions are my modus operandi.
Not wanting to drive home first, I parked across the street from the Bourbon Street Distillery and ever-so-slyly changed clothes in my car (modi operandi: the plural form).

I lagged behind a group of intramural-player-looking men, and we all made our way on foot through the streets of March Madness.

I was talking on my cell phone; I was looking pretty stylish; I was the only woman for miles and I was walking fast!

Hundreds of cars carrying fans filed into parking garages. As I stood ready to cross on Market Street, a young man ran up to me, before God and all basketball fanatics, yelling, "Miss! You dropped your purse!"
I was that girl, and not in the Marlo Thomas kind of way.

I was the dumb-phone-walking-talking blonde wearing really cute pants and not paying any attention to her surroundings. Sporting events are tough on me.

I clutched my purse, happy to still own a credit card.

At Ruth's Chris I found my friends and there we drank and took photos with friendly people wearing LSU clothing. (LSU was in the tournament?)

Later, leaving the women's restroom after a lipstick check, a woman clad in UCLA gear said, "Honey, is that your camera sitting on the sink?"

"Yes, ma'am, and I'm taking it and my fair weather attitude home now."
I learned of Florida's win on NPR the next morning.

Go Hoosiers.