It’s Valentine’s Day, and here at the Daily, we love sports. In fact, the men’s basketball beat loves sports so much, it sent one of its own writers on a special assignment to find a soulmate in the Big Ten. You might be surprised to find out who stole his heart.
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I started my journey in Minnesota, toward the borders,
They’ve always had a thing for young sports reporters.
I should’ve just left, but Gophers wanted to have me.
I stuck around for a little, then said goodbye, 60-63.
I waved hello to the guys from Evanston next,
They wanted to talk, but I told them to text.
They didn’t have game, and I mean, like any,
They’ve never been taken to the dance — beat them by more than 20.
I wanted me a mate, I needed a spark,
So I traveled out west like Lewis and Clark.
I arrived at Pinnacle Bank Arena and I started thinkin’,
I’ll reject them at home later, but first I’ll do it in Lincoln.
Maybe I was being too picky, but I wanted the best,
The Nittany Lions clawed me but weren’t up for the test.
So I went to Madison, to get back at Ben Brust,
He’d been a former lover, but he’d lost all my trust.
But then I saw a fella and adjusted my game plan,
My new focus was getting me a piece of coach Fran.
He tried and he tried, but the Hawkeyes didn’t see,
That Coach McCaffery and me were just meant to be.
He left in a hurry, and I didn’t want to hinder,
He gave me his number and told me he’d hit me up on Tinder.
With that promise, I made do with Spartans and Boilermakers,
And continued my quest to find some new love takers.
I set up a date in the prestigious Assembly Hall,
But Yogi Ferrell served me up — the kid could just ball.
Still, I said ‘yes’ to blind date a handsome Coach Crean,
He was better off the court, if you know what I mean.
Then I returned to see Fran, just to meet his folks,
Our love was legit, all fun and some jokes.
But his dad didn’t like my type and finally blew the whistle,
Just a day before Fran and I would be Facebook official.
So I reluctantly sped off to the Buckeye state,
I prayed to St. Valentine that I would run into my fate.
And when Cupid shot his arrow, I nearly laughed,
“Really St. V, me and Aaron Craft?!”
But boy was he right, I loved the little guy in red,
We watched movies all night and ate tacos in bed.
He stole off the court too, but only my heart,
We’d talk for hours whenever we were apart.
He was the cherry to my pie, the day to my night,
The maize to my blue, the thrown chair to coach Knight.
He was the captain, and I his first mate,
He said I was good, I said, “AC, you’re great!”
When I went to his place, I teased the senior guard for a while,
But beat him in the end, because back-to-back rejections wasn’t my style.
He was mad for some time, but we got back on our grind,
My favorite No. 4 will always be my special Valentine.