DETROIT -- On command, when a local kid named Durrell Summers lifted off and nearly decapitated Stanley Robinson with a vicious dunk, a moving wave of green-swept humanity rose and rocked. Yes, your honor, this was a ridiculous homecourt advantage, a home-FIELD advantage of about 45,000 local crazies in a 72,500-seat football stadium, an advantage in ways freakishly unprecedented in the fiercely neutral extravaganza known as the Final Four.
Ford Field is guilty as charged.
And not a soul with a conscience should complain about it.
Ford Field is guilty as charged.
And not a soul with a conscience should complain about it.
Late in the first half of an incredibly entertaining national semifinal game, players from 
Gotta love
PHILADELPHIA -- Uh, oh. Jeff Adrien was posing for the cameras and woofing, enjoying this blowout a little too merrily. You could say it was a "Yo, Adrien!'' moment in Rocky Balboa's city, and while Connecticut was comfortably en route to a 92-66 rout of Texas A&M, my eyeballs instinctively shifted to Adrien's coach, 
























