For people not familiar with that word, it is a simple reference to Winona State University. Here is how you say it:


It helps if you slur it a bit as well.

So what do you do to "enjoy" a national basketball championship by your home town team? Well when Winona State University beat Augusta State University 87-76 to claim the Division II Men's National Championship this past Saturday, I discovered the answer.

I came into this past Saturday fairly aware of what I was getting into, but with alcohol, you just really never know. 3 shots of whisky here, a beer bong of Old Style there, a handful of mixers all around, and a couple of steaks off to the side with remnants of a party ball or two beside it; this is how we spent the time from noon to 5 PM. And I am not complaining.  If I do have one complaint from it all, it would have to be this:

No more pig piles.  They are utterly and completely useless.

The thing about the championship was this: everyone become united.  The homeless dude that just happened to walk by our game of bags became my best friend of 15 years, and I ran into a handful of old guy friends that, given the right amount of time, I probably would have slept with. Even physical objects became appealing, and I am quite sure that I made love to a grill.  On the subject of food it also became everyone's new best friend.  "I LOVE YOU JACK DANIELS STEAK!"

As the hours went on, the fact of the championship became even more real. As all of the food disappeared, the alcohol took more effect, and my friend's mindset was fixed to reenacting that awesome three-pointer the Winona's center made to claim the lead for the first time.  Sadly, this ended up in another pig pile, but hey, when it comes to national championship basketball, even fans have to make sacrifices.

As the sun disappeared, just like the shot I had of waking up tomorrow morning to go back to my girlfriend's house, hibernation and exhilaration kicked in. I wanted to sprint down the street for the nearest bar to see if I could sneak past one of the bouncers, but instead I stumbled up to my friend's apartment saying, "Dude, I need one of those power naps." I couldn't tell you if I got the nap in, but I was soon woken up to the near deafening sound of a girl trying to get into my friend's bedroom pleading, "I DON'T WANT YOU TO THINK THAT I AM A DRUNK BITCH, LET ME IN!"  Sorry girl, too late.

As the morning came to, I did not.  My friend woke up claiming that "His mouth was in the desert", and that, "He was buried in sand." Although this wasn't true, the fact that his sub sandwhich, in which he got one 1 bite out of, was completely gone was true.  Again, even fans have to make sacrifices.  As I gathered myself and my shirt that was wrapped completely around my head and headed out the door, I could not remember all that much from the night before, but I did remember this: