Well, I’m still not over it. I’m ready to say that Chalmers’ shot is the biggest play in college basketball this side of the century. It’s just unfortunate that it came from a coaching gaffe.

(Preface:. Notice how I don’t even mention the fact that there was overtime. There was five extra minutes for another chance with plenty of time to make up what went wrong. But in sports it’s all about one or two defining moments in big games. That’s what we remember. Like it or not: That’s how it is.)

I feel as if I’ve been beaten to a metaphorical pulp.I might not get over this for a week. Maybe two. Seriously: How do you lose that game? I’m not even a Memphis fan and I really have the urge to end a lamp’s life right now.

With the end of the college basketball season, I just saw some “kaysh” (as the kids call it) blow away in the wind with Memphis’ nine-point lead that vanished with less than two minutes to go. Is it just the few bucks that I threw into the casual office pool or two that

I’m upset about? No, but it’s definitely part of it.

But seriously, Chalmers … wow, what a shot. That was probably the biggest shot in NCAA Tournament history. Yes, I really do think it’s better than Keith Smart winning the game for Indiana in ’87 or Jordan sinking the 17-footer for Carolina in ’82 — neither of those shots were 3-pointers amidst a total clustered messed of a play.

I kind of just watched the whole thing unfold before me, almost pessimistically clairvoyant about what was sure to happen. Of course this shot was going to fall. Of course it was. I haven’t caught a break in a close game for the better part of a decade. And I love it. It’s become expected.

That’s really is part of what this Tournament is all about: Breathlessly rooting for teams that you couldn’t care less about for 50 weeks of the year. How fraudulent. How inspiring. How self-fulfilling … until they lose.

Memphis was that team for me. Did you pick Kansas to win it all? I had to take the Tigers. Had to. Here was a team that was four points away going into Monday’s championship game with an undefeated record.

Now picture this: Memphis played last night’s game as an undefeated team …and lost the way they did. Would Memphis would own the biggest choke job of all time? Uh, most definitely. Amazing how losing can actually save your reputation in that respect. I still wish it would’ve happened though — what a story that would’ve been.

Make no mistake about it: It wasn’t a Kansas “Komeback”; it was a Memphis Meltdown. A choke job. A larynx-clogged, drama-filled performance from Chris Douglas-Roberts and Derrick Rose, who went 1-for-5 in the final minute from the charity stripe.

It’s funny how the momentum changed so quickly at the end of regulation. Sherron Collins hits that 3 to put Kansas down by four points and all of the sudden it feels like Memphis can’t get out of the gym quick enough.

Don’t you think there’s a collective energy, a universal karma that sweeps across the country when we watch these games? Don’t tell me that Memphis couldn’t feel everyone begin to hold the air in their lungs once those freebies weren’t falling.

But what’s worse about this? It was just bad coaching. Bad, bad coaching. It’s one thing for a team you’re rooting for to lose because of the play of the opponent, it’s another when a coach or an official leaves a urine stain on the game. Memphis coach John Calipari had two options that could’ve helped Memphis get the win: a) He could’ve you know, fouled Kansas before they had the chance to get off the 3-pointer; b) Cal could’ve called a timeout with 2.1 to go after Chalmers’ heel-kicked 3 fell through the nylon.

But those of us pulling for this team were not treated to good coaching. We were left feeling a little empty, a lot in shock and begging for something different. I hate that marred feeling. It’s unnatural.

Still, as weird as it sounds, I do love this pain. I know sports mean something to me because of how they make my body feel. My hands shake with uneasiness as I move them across the keyboard to type these words right now.

As an audience, we were treated to Ty Rogers’ ridiculous 3 that won the game for Western Kentucky (I had Drake). We also saw the magic of Stephen Curry, who took Davidson (who I had losing in the first round) to the Elite Eight and almost knocked out, yep, Kansas.

I’ll be ready to do it again next year. To feel that bittersweet pain all over again.

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