It's the equivalent of the Lakers-Celtics rivalry back in the day. I'll pull for my dad's alma mater, but will also express joy that a school which consigns collegiate athletics to their proper place can still reach the championship game in its specialty, over and over over.
I've been meaning to write something more substantive here for some time. But the end-of-semester frenzy, together with other stresses of both a personal and professional nature, made it impossible for me to find the time. And, just when I was finding the time, I screwed up my leg in such a way that the most painful thing for me to do has been sitting at the computer for an extended period of time. Not to mention that my body's antibiotic-aided attempts to fight off infection have periodically drained me, at different junctures throughout the day, to the point where I fall asleep wherever I am. So, my dear readers, you can thank my straitened circumstances for not having to read strange musings on the meaning of May '68 for today's Left or any of the micro-stories I've been planning to compose. Be warned, though, that I'll be sharing material of that potentially mind-numbing nature as soon as I'm 100% healed and caught up on the various tasks I've deferred. In other words, around the time the Olympics starts in China.