The NCAA came down hard on Syracuse University, laying down on the school a laundry list of sanctions that is worse than actually doing laundry. I heard the news and like most things, Googled how to deal with it. What came up was Kübler-Ross’ stages of grief, which are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, dopey and sneezy. The following is a journal of my process:

Just like Bill Clinton, I’m going to deny, deny, deny. You’re going to kick Syracuse out of the NCAA tournament — that’s like kicking Tommy out of “Rugrats.” Well, if I’ve learned anything in this life, it’s that if you feel strongly about something, repress any emotion attached to it and it will eventually go away.

There’s a way to reverse this. According to “Accepted,” the film on the college experience, all we need is a rag-tag group of kids to fight in court for what they believe in. Once we find Lewis Black, we’re golden.

Anger. Yes, I’m angry. If they take away 12 scholarships, how am I supposed to earn a spot on next year’s roster? How does the NCAA blame the 2015 team for mistakes made in 2008? That’s like me being kicked out of SU for missing third period gym. You can’t just erase Jim Boeheim’s win total — this isn’t my browser history.

Who gave the NCAA this power? Its been watching us for eight years like Clay Aiken in “Invisible,” and now all of a sudden its dropping the hammer? There’s so much rage flowing through me — can human beings go super saiyan? I saw a blonde hair in the shower yesterday, and I don’t think it’s from my American Girl doll. Hopefully my 600-word Facebook status will resonate with my friends and family.

I’ll do anything to get us into the tournament, NCAA. Anything (wink). I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but if you reinstate our basketball team, I will watch the entirety of the series “Ugly Betty.” If you put us back into the tournament, I will watch the full series and write a paper on the merits of the performance of America Ferrera — without the help of athletic officials, so don’t even say it.

If that’s not enough, I will do what Gandhi did. In order to make a difference, I’m going to grow a mustache. Every day until we are reinstated, I will grow my facial hair of justice until it is a triumphant symbol of Syracuse basketball — or until my mom tells me it’s gross.

I feel like Eeyore right now. And they made poor Jim Boeheim retire. You don’t kick the crazy uncle out of the Christmas party — he’s been there for 40 years.

Weren’t we already sanctioned with this hellscape of a winter? I don’t go to class, shave, shower and now Syracuse isn’t allowed to play in the postseason. According to multiple T-shirts on kids I don’t like, “Ball is Life.” If this is true — as most things printed on T-shirts are — what is the point of living?

I’m going to my room, eating 10 bags of Doritos and refreshing Twitter.

(Three pints of Half Baked later)

You know what, this isn’t so bad. This actually frees up a lot of time for me to get back to my herbal tea garden. There’s a silver lining to everything. I know this because Bradley Cooper lent me his playbook. The world of Minecraft is so vast, I think it’s about time I explored it.

Maybe I can finally take a step back and stop caring so much about sports. I mean, it is just a bunch of guys wearing shirts of different colors right? Caring for who wins a game is pretty pointless — maybe I should start reading again.

Wait, I just found a Rakeem Christmas highlight reel on YouTube. Be right back.

Danny Cuneo is a junior television, radio and film major. The NCAA has monitored his column for 18 months. It runs every Thursday in Pulp. He can be reached at dacuneo@syr.edu.

Published on March 19, 2015 at 12:01 am