Zag fans, get ready for same ol' ending

It's my favorite time of the year. Another season of Gonzaga hoops is on the horizon.

It's where fans' unrealistically big expectations at the beginning of the season bleed into disappointment, denial, and excuses four months later.

It's hilarious, sad, crazy and depressing. In other words: Terrific theater.

I can spare the fan base the ride right now with my season prediction.

The Zags will lose by a wide margin in the NCAA tournament.

Again.

They don't want to hear that, though. Fans think David still plans to sling a rock. Worse, they think David already slung the rock and has since morphed into Goliath.

(Notice the biblical reference, Jesuit scholars!) This is bad, but wonderful too, because it sets up the first ingredient to the ride: The expectations. And at the end of the day it's hard to feel bad for someone who dupes themselves on purpose.

IF UNIVERSITIES are a group of friends, Gonzaga is the guy who thinks the Hooters waitress actually likes him. You don't know whether to feel sorry for him or just play along and encourage him.

It's mean, but if you do the latter he eventually figures it out on his own.

"I don't get it," is the last thing you hear before the light goes on with this guy. "She only wants to see me at her work."

I'm still waiting for the Eureka moment from the Zag fans. They just refuse to have it.

I mean, good golly, who else is praised so heavily for something they did 11 years ago?

Non-sports fans, here's what you need to know: Gonzaga played deep into the NCAA tournament in 1999. Nothing near as good since.

They've had one good team since that magical run, but that team choked away a tournament game to an inferior opponent in such remarkable fashion, its star player lay down on the court and wept.

Not exactly elite.

BUT FANS still think the program is.

Putting this in comparison, it places me inside my boss' office asking for a raise, not because I've done good work lately, but because I wrote a hell of an English paper my freshman year in college.

"Wait a minute here," fan - which is short for fanatic - hollers. "If they're not great how come they sell out every game and it's impossible to get tickets?"

Because they're Tuesday nights in the dead of winter in Spokane. Not loaded with options here.

But I have to hand it to Mark Few, their coach. He has the best job in America. He's paid like an elite coach, given credit for wins, credit for close losses even, and no blame for losing.

Every interview I see him in reminds me of a sophomore girl smitten with the senior quarterback.

In this comparison the media is the undergraduate girl and Few is the quarterback. I explain this for the Jesuit scholars unfamiliar with dating dynamics. I mean, there's kid gloves, and then there are kid gloves wrapped in diapers and sprinkled with sugar.

THEY'RE SO desperate for a winner they're willing to pretend the Arena Football League counts for something.

"Well," I remember one of their homers saying on the radio after the Zags' blowout loss in last year's tourney. "That team would have beat anybody that day, they were playing that well."

Meanwhile, in that same tournament, Gonzaga's small conference counterpart Saint Mary's was quietly advancing.

I don't know what to tell you other than I remember a female Seattle Mariner radio host saying after another M's loss that it was good Seattle's young left fielder Michael Saunders stood in the batter's box and saw pitcher Mariano Rivera's amazing cut fastball without sobbing or soiling himself, so maybe those two should just date.

My prediction, other than another tourney loss this year, is the ethical and moral Few will eventually feel guilty and start donating even more money back to Spokane.

No Final Four appearances, but maybe in a couple of years Few will fund a much-needed resurface project on Interstate 90 near the Airway Heights exit. You know, the stretch of road where the ruts are so bad it feels like your car is water skiing.

Sorry Zag fans, your program is the exact opposite of Boise State football.

Two teams on the same road to elite, one fell down and cried while the other went ahead and set a place at the big boy table.

It's OK to be angry. It's an important step to acceptance.

Tom Hasslinger is the city reporter for the Coeur d'Alene Press. He can be reached at 664-8176, Ext. 2010, or at thasslinger@cdapress.com.