There are many different ways to keep track of extended periods of time. The most common is the calendar year, which lasts from January 1 to December 31. Another is one's personal year between birthdays, commonly referred to as one's age. An important way to keep track of time for children and young adults is the school year, which is roughly synonymous with the TV year.

The most important way to keep track of time in this household? The college basketball year. From early November until, if we're lucky, early April, one or two times a week the heavens open and bestow upon us a Kansas Jayhawk men's basketball game. This basketball year looks to be a very promising one; we're the consensus number one team in the nation, we picked up one of last year's top high school recruits, and two of the players from our 2008 Championship team, who definitely could have gone into the NBA this year, decided to stay one more year. We had a lot of new players last year who were a little green, who have now had a year to settle in, gain some experience, and get used to playing as a team. It's a good start.

Sports, and in my case college basketball, can be a lot like religion. The only thing missing is that for the most part, sports don't answer any of life's burning questions like: Why are we here? How was this world created? What happens after death? But other than that, there are a lot of similarities. The team you root for depends a lot on where you're from and how your parents raised you. One of my earliest memories is jumping up and down with my mom and dad when KU won the National Championship in 1988. Things might change when you go away to college, and are introduced to new teams, maybe even different conferences, but it's hard to completely sever your ties with the team you grew up with.

There's an incredible sense of community. Even just watching the game alone in your home, you're connected with all of the other people watching the game. You know that you're cheering when they're cheering, groaning when they groan, screaming at the refs when they scream. Of course, you can always go to a sports bar or one of those restaurants with lots of shit hanging on the walls, or, if you're lucky, to the holy of holies itself, the actual game. In KU's case, Allen Fieldhouse. I've only been a few times, but I'm pretty sure the deep sense of awe and respect that suffused my spirit as I walked inside, found my seat, and then watched a game with 15,000 other fans, was not that much different from how people feel when they go to church.

Just like religion, you feel like your team is obviously and objectively the best. Everyone else who roots for other teams is deluded in some way. If they'd only sit down with you and listen, you could explain to them why KU is the best team. First of all, our first coach invented the game itself; he's like a prophet, bringing down a ball and a peach basket from heaven. And if someone disses your team? They're not just insulting the school, they're insulting you and everything you stand for.

Of course, like many religions, there are moments of clarity where you think, this is kind of strange. Why am I getting so much joy out of watching some strange boys play a game? But joy there is nonetheless, and that's what keeps bringing you back. There may be bad times, off seasons, blown second round games and overtime losses, but you know that deep down, the game will always be there for you, when you need it most.

Kansas is back in the top ten, and all is right with the world. We lost every single starter from the National Championship team, and there was a very strong understanding that this year would be a rebuilding year. We didn't have high expectations. But now we're on top of the Big 12, looking at a high seed for the tournament, and the hopes, they are a-creeping back in.

We mauled Missouri yesterday, and here are a few pictures; one from the game itself (that's John Brown, with the Championship trophy instead of the Bible), and one a t-shirt that was made up for the game. For reference, see, teams like K-State and Texas? They're rivals. Missouri? Is our enemy. We HATE Missouri. Every year, the KU students make up new and exciting shirts to mock and deride Mizzou (since we're no longer allowed to wear the "Muck Fizzou" t-shirts at the games), and this might be one of my favorites.

This will make sense only to my sister. To borrow a word from the TWOP Pixel Challenges: "THEFT!"



The only rivalry you're going to have, Hugs, is the one with yourself, trying to top that outfit.