I keep getting older, Spartan basketball players stay the same age

I started to feel old last night. I watched my beloved boys in green and white earn their way to the national championship game in an awesome show against UConn. Instead of Mateen and Mo Pete I took in the sweat soaked, glistening bodies of Suton and Morgan. Sure, Mateen and I are both past the 3-0, but those that don the mesh jerseys keep me forever 22.

I remember that Monday in 2000 like it was last week. Carrie, Eric and I watched the game at the now-defunct Plum Crazy in Haslett, just a few miles from what is now my alma matter. In a move that could have been fully expected, Carrie and I walked out with the bar banner that hung on the wall, charting MSU's path through the tournament. It was one of my many petty thefts of bar paraphenilia back in the day. I use to have quite the collection of shot and pilsner glasses back in the day. The 2000 bracket banner was the crowning jewel of my collection.

After the game, the two of us decided to drag Eric out to East Lansing for the post game celebration. The main stretch of Grand River Avenue was packed with people and cars. The vehicles could only inch forward through the thick, drunken masses of students, not that any driver wanted to leave that cloud of complete joy quickly. We joined the parade in complete julilation and I took the opportunity to do a little truck surfing across the street from my university. It was the kind of excitement that only that particular occasion could bring. We were Spartans and OUR boys were the national champions!

Now, nine years later, I cannot recapture the exact emotion I had that day. I'm too old to have that kind of emotion. I'm too sober these days to have that kind of experience. But, I remember. Oh, how I remember. I think of my little brother being able to experience what I did back in 2000. I find myself jealous of him for a moment, pouring out of some college bar in to the crowded streets of East Lansing, high on alcohol and complete and total pride and joy. One more game, and he can have that. I hope beyond hope that he will have that and that I can remember what that felt like.