Heading to Gotham

New York City and the Big East Tournament, here I come. 

I thought out it for a little while, but then history and my childhood got the best of me. I've always been a fan of college basketball and with March upon us, it can only mean one thing: The Big East Championship.

I know I've written about this tournament, the greatest week in college basketball, several times before. But I thought I would relive a few fun memories after purchasing my train ticket to Penn Station this morning to catch the quarterfinal round in New York City.

Sports was my life growing up. But basketball was my favorite. I was a junkie, staying up late Monday night's to watch Big Monday, which way back then featured teams from the Big East and capped off with the Big West (a conference I actually had the opportunity to be a part of for several years as a communications director), tipping off at midnight.   Yes, I remember seeing UNLV at UC Santa Barbara and the flying tortillas.  I may have been the only one up on the East Coast, but it provided a talking point during my career in California.

But back to the Big East. Hands down the best tournament. I got hooked as a follower of Syracuse in the days of "The Pearl," Howard Triche, Stevie Johnson, Rafael Addison. I loved St. John's with Mullin, Louie, Walter Berry, Willie Glass and the immortal Bill Wennington.  Didn't like Georgetown, but boy were they tough with Ewing, Thompson and the Hoya Paranoia.  Pitt with Miller, Charles Smith and Jerome Lane's back-board breaking style came a bit later, but they were the Big East.

It was enough to draw me in as a college hoops junkie and now, for the third time in the last five years, I am heading down to MSG to soak in the atmosphere and childhood love of mine.

Train leaves at 6:45.