Men. Oh, men. I have, today, been outside for most of it, either working out or doing massive amounts of the initial spring cleaning that any homeowner is bound to do. Since darkness fell, precluding said activities, I have studiously, and I myself emphasize studiously, avoid putting on the TV or turning to social media.

Why, you ask? Why, Horatio, would you not take the opportunity to see Coach K lose, again, coming up short of a national title in his last season, a last season we only know is his last because his ego wouldn’t let him walk silently away after a season, following the example set by coaches named Calhoun, Williams, even Wooden for God’s sake? For is not to our greater glory that we risk it all on a throw of the dice for a chance to bear witness to the demise of one of the greatest hypocrites of our time? To say that we were there, as though with Henry V at Agincourt, when one of the oiliest snake oil salesman ever to stride the plains of the NCAA met his demise?

To that I say thou art a fool. It is far greater to recognize that, when you have chose Texas Tech to beat Duke, when you have rooted for Arkansas to do the same, when you have seen Michigan State come close, yet fall short, it is you who must make the true sacrifice, you who must drink beer while your wife thrashes you at pool, (do not believe that woman when she initially shanks several shots, claims not to know “what this game is called”, and then offers to play you for $5 a ball, for she is a liar), or play video games, you must start binging ‘The Last Kingdom’ to distract yourself with disembowlings, in order to bring about The Greater Good.

And with that sacrifice comes your reward. No, not that of eternal paradise singing the praises of an imaginary deity who thrives on such nonsense, but something far greater. Nay, your reward is to bask in the knowledge that you did what needed to be done: you deprived yourself, knowingly and willingly, to ensure that Coach K slinks into retirement in the same fashion that a dog slinks away from the feces it finds on the side of the road and tries to consume, only to be hollered at by those who will not stand for such filth; tail tucked between its legs, looking back with eyes that hope that somehow, some way, that the end result will change.

But the end result doesn’t change, because if we’ve learned anything from ‘The Last Kingdom’, and these 5 beers I’ve had so far, destiny is writ large in the stars and foretold by gods old before our oldest stars were born, and it cannot be changed. Coach K was raised up only to be thrown down, justifiably and without mercy, and so he has been.