It’s confession time. When we were younger, math was our thing. We loved numbers even before we started school, and eventually we were part of the math team for several years. Our parents thought we would do something math-related with our lives, like become a statistician. Instead, here we are, using letters instead of numbers and finding Google Images of boots falling from the sky to demonstrate the notion of “odds.” Odds are a tricky thing to calculate. But based on that formula, we’re going to say that Kansas’ chances of coming back from 9 points down with 2:12 to play in last night’s championship game were about 6 percent. That, however, is still better than the likelihood that Fasolamatt would win a prize during a halftime drawing while seated at the head RandBall table of our watering hole of choice. But both of those things happened. Fasolamatt won two T-shirts and a radio (a later winner claimed a DVD player to go with his handsome T-shirts), while Kansas took home a national title for the first time in 20 years. The longest odds defeated, though, still come in at a two-way tie between Fasolamatt getting his kids to go to bed by 8:10 on the night of the title game and the entire bill for our table somehow coming to just $36, despite the fact that there were two appetizers, a full meal and 12 drinks ordered. Fasolamatt had the chicken wings in honor of his brethren at Buffalo Wild Wings in Lawrence. We digress. It was a fine game, a little sloppy, and we all know fundamentals doomed Memphis in the end; there’s nothing a scrappy 5-10 point guard hates more than poor fundamentals, so even though we were going for Memphis and future Timberwolves guard Derrick Rose, we had to admire Kansas for finally exposing that flaw. Back to odds: What are the longest odds you have ever overcome, whether it be to win a prize, win a game, wiggle out of some sort of situation (looking at you, Joker), find your pants, etc.?

*Um, what was up with Roy Williams?

*Do Bobby Jenks and Nick Swisher of the White Sox really have bleached facial hair? If so, Stu wonders, what is up with that?

*Bromance.

*There’s never a good time for an appendectomy, but there certainly is a bad time. It looks as though Nick Schultz will miss the entire Avalanche series.

Fasola-link; the demise of the semicolon.

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