Because nobody has any stones around here, the winner of the math competition will play me in the grand finale to determine who is getting hanged. There it is.
You are already hanged you low life.
And not for any arithmetic gymnastics or anything.
Because you earned it.
By God you are as thick as 2 short planks. You are not in a position to make a play to the folks in the peanut gallery, trying to maybe get hung or maybe get off Scott free.
It is precisely that sort of crap that buried the Mojo deep last season as Deepster resigned, unresigned, re-resigned, appointed another Judge on his way, not out the door, didn't really leave, just took up residence on the heckler's bench.
Now he picks fights with the folks on the Providence board so that the urine soaked (himself and his Friar board buddies after the opening vollies of their pissing contest) can bring that nonsense over here. He apparently intends to sit on that heckling bench and to be gum on the bottom of the Boneyard's collective shoe for as long as they deign to give him internet access over in the memory wing of the old folks home.
You were hung, you have been sentenced, and you are duty and honor bound (should the words duty and honor still have residual meaning for you) to follow through.
You were hung. Start posting like it. It was a fairly comprehensible sentence. Not too difficult. Not too harsh. Pretty much on point in terms of the tie in between the offense and the sentence.
You fall short in this and we bow out, ignominiously, and it is on you, entirely. Unless of course you intend to cling to Deepster, that other drowning soul, and you both sink into the stygian depths together.
I can hear it now, "It wasn't my fault. The maths and the arithmetic. Deepster did it last year, too! It's not my fault."
But, you see, this was a year about redemption. This was the year to let the Mojo lead. The year to follow last year most spectacularly. Dominant! Undefeated! Remembered for generations as the most complete NCAA team. EVER!
14 and 0. Dominating..... Hook in and hang on was all you had to do.
But, no. You had a better plan. Leaving a big poo stain in place as you dove into your little G League mud puddle of a post.
And now, as we enter the Tournament, you have another, better way to salvage another banner.
I don't even have a hangman to carry out the verdict of my court.
Well, I sat on the Bench once. This year.
Might could have last year, too, if that schitzo, Deepster, could have kept his doses of medication straight for even one day, during his resignation tour last tournament.
I gave you Justice. It was properly derived. So far it is not being properly carried out. Let's see if you guys can hold onto it. My work is done, here.
I'm out now. Start shopping for next year.