Penicillin Anyone?

News of "vacating" our 38 win season does not come as a shock. It was predictable.

And if we Tigers are nothing else, we're predictable.

Predictably never reaching and sustaining greatness.

Predictably and irrretrivably stuck in a mediocre conference.

Predictibly mediocre. Yeah, that's it. And we like it that way. So we've got that going for us, which is nice.

No, not shocked. Not heartbroken. They did that to me long ago. Now it's just laughably sad.

When news of the investigation first broke, I commented on this blog that I was thankful we lost to KU lest we'd face the prospect of surrendering a national championship.

That's right, folks. We were one free throw away from having to open the trophy case and handing back the gold to whoever the heck you hand it back to.

And now the record books have been purged. And in a way, I feel that's appropriate. Maybe not purged, but sanitized. As it relates to Memphis, only one man is recognized again as taking us to the Finals - Clean Gene Bartow. Dana and John are examples of what will always be when you play it on the edge.

In an act that seems strangely just, John has to vacate 38 wins from his won/loss record, too--which means he is no longer the winningest coach at the U of M. Who is? #21. A guy whose love for his school, city and team could never be questioned - Larry Finch.

At the last, I have two things to say about this - one, if you bought a Final Four shirt from the Tiger Bookstore, thank you for the business and "they ain't no refunds!"

And two, for my friends who hail from the land of my birth, the Commonwealth of Kentucky, you'd do well to heed this warning:

"When you go to bed with the whore of Babylon, don't act surprised when you wake up the next morning with the Clap."