Alas, poor Redick, I knew him well

I have to admit, I don't understand the joy people get from seeing Adam Morrison and J. J. Redick cry after losing in the tournament. As much as they both bug me, I can barely imagine the mix of adrenaline, exhaustion, and disappointment they must have felt at those moments.

Still, I'm allowed to make fun of them for losing--my prediction about Duke came true. Huzzah! So on we go with the poetry parodies, this one honoring the key also-rans who didn't make the Final Four by honoring Dylan Thomas as well.

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Coach K did burn and rave at close of day;
Brick, brick against the dying of the light.

Though Calhoun at his end knew dark was right,
Because his team had got no rebounds they
Sure did go gentle into that good night.

Redick, the last brick by, crying how bright
His frail shot might have danced in a white net,
Brick, brick against the dying of the light.

Wild men who dropped and missed the ball in flight,
And learn, too late, they lost it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Bruce Pearl, orange, who blinds with gaudy coat
And lose, two seed, to Wichita, then they
Brick, brick against the dying of the light.

And you, Morrison, there on the sad height,
Go to the NBA with your fierce tears, I pray,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Brick, brick against the dying of the light.