I’m high … on basketball. Try to bring me down to your level if you’re not on mine. That is the away message you’ll find on my Thefacebook.com page if, for some reason, you get stuck between the letters Ac and Ad. If I am being too pushy or too pressed, oh well. It’s March, American Idol only lasts an hour, and the National Invitation Tournament is second helpings to me.

No disrespect to College Park’s finest, but if the Terrapins made their bed, then let them lie in it. And I said “them” — not just John Gilchrist. I’m not knocking the Terps, but the NIT doesn’t compare to another ACC/Big Ten Challenge. This is what college is really about. Not last-minute cramming, 24-hour pizza binges or banging frat parties. It’s not about spring breaks in Cancun, Mexico, or putting beer cans on top of recycle bins instead of in them to let everyone know you’re an underage drinker. It’s not about skipping lectures and barely going to discussions, hiding your early warning grades from your parents or pretending Route 1 is M Street.

It’s all about March. It’s about putting what little money you have in your Chevy Chase Bank account into a pool. It’s about history you can watch being made, not that of which Bill Raftery or Len Elmore can remind you. It’s about watching Rick Pitino make the right decision to leave the Boston Celtics and become the first coach to lead three different schools to the Final Four. It’s about Bobby Knight turning so red in the face he looks like the Kool-Aid man. It’s about Bruce Weber’s triumph over tragedy. It’s about Karl Hobbs and the George Washington University Colonials getting another shot to upset an Atlantic Coast Conference squad. It’s about Bill Self and the rest of us tournament watchers getting a geography lesson and learning that Bucknell is in Pennsylvania. It’s about disliking Coach K even more after seeing his face for 30 seconds during every TV timeout. It’s about hating TV timeouts. It’s about the truth.

It’s about the 2003 NCAA champions expecting their boy Gerry McNamara to hit a 3-pointer and send the game to double overtime, instead falling to Vermont in the first round. Vermont?! It’s about having your bracket bust wide open as the Kansas/North Carolina matchup is no more. It’s about University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee coming from nowhere, saying, “Remember us, we’re the new Salukis.” It’s about another year of, “Where’s JJ?” as the Boo Devils fall before there are four. It’s about players like Taquan Dean disregarding doctors’ orders and showing true determination. It’s about Salim Stoudamire’s pull-up jumper with 2.8 seconds left. It’s about Iowa wishing Pierre Pierce could have acted a fool after the season ended. It’s about watching cheerleaders no longer have a reason to stick one finger in the camera. It’s about screaming “And one” at your television as you expect Kentucky to wrap the game up with a free throw, instead of having to watch a replay of an incredible last-minute shot for five minutes, and then watching Tubby Smith’s team lose in double overtime.

It’s about being able to walk around this campus with any school color that isn’t red, because, truth be told, just because you attend this university doesn’t mean you’re a Terrapin. It’s about forgetting the Indiana Pacers are returning to the Palace of Auburn Hills since the Ron Artest ordeal. It’s about watching Mateen Cleaves rock his green-and-white Spartans warmup shirt minutes before. It’s about life, life in March.

It’s about schools on the cusp of being considered Division II upsetting good ole Dickie V and the top seeded teams. It’s about fate no longer resting in the hands of boys, but in grown men. It’s about watching those men leave the pressure in the locker room and bring their passion onto the hardwood. It’s about those men having to face the media with no way out. It’s about seniors whose collegiate careers started with 65 but ended before St. Louis.

It’s about the love of college basketball, and nothing else. Not girlfriend. Not boyfriend. Not beer pong. It’s about the phrase, “Ball or fall.” And after April 4, it’ll be about the possibility of a white boy going first in the NBA draft. Maybe next year it’ll be about us “bracketologists” realizing that women can be found on ESPN. Next year … next year.

Adina Ferguson is a freshman letters and sciences major. She can be reached at adf04@netzero.net.