This probably would’ve been my first post of the day on any other day– narcissist Jim Nantz giving an uninterested college kid his fucking tie, a tradition as forced as his Sunday Masters sign-off from Butler Cabin, the name of which rather remarkably auto-returns Nantz himself:
But yesterday was not an ordinary day. We had a National Championship to celebrate. Kris Jenkins’ game-winning, National Championship-winning, greatest-shot-in-college-basketball-history three-pointer to celebrate. I still haven’t wrapped my head around this. I’m not sure I’ve even started. But, I have to blog about something other than one of the greatest sports moments of all-time. So, even though I know it was blogged to death yesterday, I’d like to talk about Jim Nantz and his fucking tie.
— Daniel Gotera (@DTGoteraKHOU) April 5, 2016
Ew. I have cooties. I now have cooties after having watched that. It’s the only physical response the space-time continuum would allow me to associate with what just happened here. It’s a personal Final Four tradition. Sick. That’s the category of tradition pedophile priests like to talk about before putting their victims into uncomfortable positions. It’s a personal Final Four tradition. I have chocolate and watch late-night cable with one underclassman– congratulations! No one wants your tie, Jim. NO ONE. Certainly not Ryan Arcidiacono, whose only possible use for it may be Christian Grey-ing porn star Mia Khalifa, who tweeted about him all tournament long and whom he finally followed yesterday – slide into those DMs, baby, you’re a National Champion – just before what I can only imagine was a troll follow of Marcus Paige:
Nantz explaining that his tie – HIS FUCKING TIE – means a lot to him because his father taught him how to tie a tie is the weirdest, most self-indulgent shit I’ve ever heard. It’s literally one of only three things fathers are equipped to teach their sons: 1) how to throw a baseball, 2) how to tie a tie, 3) and how the boy bird is attracted to the girl bird and he gently implants his phallus into her cloaca while a bee flies around, buzzing with excitement.* This is not unique to the Nantz family. I imagine Ryan’s dad also taught him how to tie a tie (and Ryan, about to be a Nova grad, can assuredly tie a Windsor better than Jim anyway). He doesn’t need this ritualistic bonding exercise to feel complete, and he certainly doesn’t need Jim’s cheap tie as “something to take home.” Just look how creeped out this woman is as she walks by Nantz attempting to establish a hierarchy with the college male:
She just vomited in her mouth. And also probably got cooties. Which is the appropriate response.
*Still working on my delivery. Have a little time.
UPDATE: Just thought of this, but I’d LOVE to see him try to pull this at the Masters and hand out a yellow tie to go with the Green Jacket. They’d whisk him off Augusta property faster than they did with black guys in the
1950s 1980s. 1990s. What year did Tiger Woods start playing in The Masters?