Check out that bikini, all black and whatnot. Reminds you of Cheryl Tiegs in her prime, her early-twenties, doesn't she? Look at the thousands of college-aged babes in bikinis tickling their toes in the sand. You can see more different colors of bikinis than there are colors in the 64-pack of Crayola Crayons. Study their bronzed skins glistening under the afternoon sun. It must be a global bikini convention or some other celebration. Notice the gentle breeze blowing their hair just slightly. Look up at the all baby blue sky. Don't ask why.

Look at that college kid: He's wearing a blue and green thong with an Eagle on the front. Even he doesn't look out of place or uncouth today. If there was ever a day to wear a thong in public, this is it. Thongs get a pass on this occasion.

See all those surfers standing on their sticks, gliding across the aqua-marine water, the signature sight of the Gulf Coast of Florida. There must be five hundred surfers out there. It might be the most ideal conditions for surfing in the history of the ocean. Twelve foot swells with tight tubes are rolling in. Luscious white caps tumble here and there.

Gaze towards the sand again: No way. Can't be. You see Annette Funicello, Frankie Avalon and Eric Von Zipper, the stars of the famed 1950s movie "Beach, Blanket, Bingo." They made the trek to Fort Myers to join the once-in-a-lifetime celebration. Von Zipper is still acting weird but that's cool. Anything goes today. Everything is cool. Be who you always have been and always will be, Von Zip.

Listen to those tunes the Beach Boys play up on the beach deck a few feet from the light tan sand. Yes, they're pumping out "Surfin' Safari" and "Little Surfer Girl." Of course that makes sense.

In the sand in front of the band notice all those tall guys with gaggles of gals in those bikinis gawking at them, caressing their biceps with one hand and holding pen and paper in the other. They're in hot pursuit of boyfriends and husbands, as well as autographs for themselves and their little brothers back home.

Chase Fieler looks a little mischievous. You conjure up the image of him ruining Georgetown's season with that one-handed, out-of-nowhere alley-oop dunk that sparked his team, a #15 seed, to the tournament's biggest upset. Sporting a sleeveless "National Champions" muscle-man T-shirt, flimsy flops and dark shades, you discern he's not thinking about dunking today. Women are on his mind. In another area of the sand nearby you see Brett Comer, the best passer in the college game. A flock of women are making passes at him. 

Up near the Beach Boys set, coach Andy Enfield stretches out in a beach recliner. Next to him in the same position is his supermodel wife, Amanda Marcum Enfield. In her bikini she looks like a supermodel. Get the picture?  Look at them sipping pina coladas taking in the wildest scene in the history of American beaches.

They're celebrating near their university, Florida Gulf Coast, two days after capturing the NCAA men's basketball championship. Hoop pundits have labeled the run by the Eagles the most shocking upset and championship in the history of American sports. No one disputes that. No one disputes anything on this fine day at the beach. They know and you know that there will never be a sports story again as amazing as the one this team wrote by winning the final game in Atlanta at the Georgia Dome.

Look at the college students dancing. Fruity drinks flow. There is beer. College professors dance and actually act sort of normal-incredible. The ocean refreshes. The Beach Boy tunes penetrate the souls of everyone partaking of this day of all days.

You wonder to yourself if this ranks as the most exciting and boisterous celebration in the history of American colleges. You think back to the best college parties you participated in as an undergraduate some thirty years ago. There were countless spectacular ones that you remember fondly like the one in decide not to go there. You are an adult now, past middle age and a little more mature than you were then, although college friends who are now your best friends insist you aren't.

You render your final verdict: Yes, this is the greatest college party of all time. Win a national championship out of nowhere in hoops, return to a college full of gorgeous babes, become so popular you decide which one you want to fall in love with. All this under the Florida sun with a slight breeze blowing, seeing it all through your new pair of slick shades wearing a sleeveless national championship t-shirt. Yes, this is the most beautiful beach blast you will ever see anywhere, anytime. And this is the most marvelous March Madness of all time.



Remember to keep your posts clean. Profanity will get filtered, and offensive comments will be removed.

Start Your Own Blog

Start Now

Truth & Rumors


  1. 1
    Kerr 'absolutely expects' Knicks offer
  2. 2
    No return timetable for Lightning MVP
  3. 3
    Yankees, Mets, Red Sox among Hanrahan hopefuls
  4. 4
    Smush Parker allegedly punches high schooler
  5. 5
    Tuukka Rask takes blame for Bruins' Game 1 loss

SI Photos