Women's Hoops Blog

Inane commentary on a game that deserves far better


Friday, January 12, 2007

Ah, the Happy Valley. Whenever women's basketball gets boring, we can always turn our eyes to central Pennsylvania. It's a never-ending source of Shakespearean drama.

There was a basketball game last night. The Lions almost won, but didn't. Almost upset the ranked Buckeyes, but didn't. Almost got Rene her 600th win, but didn't. They were just a few seconds from a huge win, but instead their season slipped further into irrelevance.

The real drama, however, is off the court. Picture this.

A University President, hat in hand, walks slowly down to the athletic department. Enters Maureen's office.

"Um, so, Rene... Mrs. Portland... we were just wondering... if you'd like to see more of your grandkids... if you'd like to spend more time in the Poconos... we'd make you a very generous offer. We'd throw you a real nice party."

(Rene's pupils begin to glow red.)

"We'd even make sure that your successor was a supporter of yours, one of your favorites."

Rene bellows: "WHAT SUCCESSOR?" President drops hat. Retrieves it. Apologizes. Leaves, hurriedly.

What successor? It just so happens that Suzie is back in town. Yes, as soon as she was fired this summer (or as soon as she quit, as she is now fond of telling the local papers), she put her Minneapolis house on the market. "Pete! Get off the damn internet and start packing. We're heading home!"

To do what? Oh... who knows. Hang around her alma mater. Do some color commentary. Wait for a coaching job to open up.

She gushes on the radio about her mentor. "Maureen has done so much for the game. Maureen has done so much for so many kids. Maureen is a legend." Suzie is like a J.V. cheerleader who looks at you with a pert little smile while she hides a dagger behind her back. "Please Rene. I love you. Don't make this hard."

But for Maureen, relinquishing her post, even to Suzie, would be an admission of guilt. It would mean that that liar Jen Harris and her dyke lawyers and the sleazy left-wing gay-agenda attack press and those idiot lavender fans had won.

She can't do it. She just can't do it.

When Rene is alone late at night, does she ever question herself? Does she wonder if maybe she was wrong? If maybe she went too far? If maybe she shouldn't have treated all those players the way she did? Does Maureen Portland doubt?

No. I don't think she does.