Funny Friday: March Madness Edition

This is one of those deep dark confessions times that will end in laughter. If we were in person and I was telling this story, you might start out believing that this is a serious, deeply personal story, and then when I got to the end, you would look at me incredulously and burst out laughing.
I'm giving you this warning up front because body language and tones are absent from blog posts, as evidenced from the fact that this is a blog.

Can you tell it's Friday? This is how Bek's Brain operates at the end of a long week.

moving on to the actual story.

Introduction:
Once upon a time I was in high school. This was sophomore year, my first year in high school with actual other classmates {yay homeschooling!}, and really my first sustained interaction with...boys. Yep. Family of girls + homeschooling + only one guy my age on the island we had just moved from = steep learning curve in 10th grade! Oh, did I mention that my class had eight guys!?!?!? Yeah. Steep learning curve.

Background:
My church's classical academy is pretty awesome. Intense and awesome. We have one dance every year...it's a ball, literally and figuratively, and we invite our parents and teachers and the mayor of our city, and we all have a dinner and honor people and dance the night away...until about 9:30pm. Truth. {Usually we all go to Red Robin afterwards, because what's the point of dressing up if you can't strut your stuff, right!?}
So this dance is called our Ambassadors' Ball, because we are all ambassadors of Christ and we like to dance {I'm sure there's a deeper, more spiritual meaning for the name, but like I said, I joined in 10th grade and never found out}. The Ambassadors' Ball happens in May, because then it's finally starting to warm up enough to wear ballgowns.

Scene:
Math class, one of the best parts of the day. Also truth. I loved {and still love} math, and I loved {and still love} our math teacher, Mrs. C. She is one of the most patient and fair teachers ever, and she makes The Best Rolls In The History Of Rolls. Also truth.
I think that we were enjoying said rolls when I hear some male classmates talking about "the dance" and how exciting it all was and how they were looking forward to "who made it" and things like that. I was slightly confused, but said nothing {Insert Mark Twain quote here: "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and confirm it."}.

So there I am, minding my own business, enjoying my roll, and my bestie comes and sits next to me and asks "So are you excited for the big dance?"

And I think to myself isn't it a bit early to be thinking about the Ambassadors' Ball in March!? And so I say as much, and Lola looks at me incredulously and says "Not our dance. College basketball!"

And honest-to-God this is what passes through my head: Aww, the basketball players have a dance! That's sweet...and weird, but ok. They have a dance for everyone in their league. That would be fun...but I'm still confused.

So I say to Lola: "The basketball players have a dance?"

And she bursts out laughing.

And I kinda laugh too, but am still bewildered.

Lola enlightens me: "They call the big tournament 'the dance.'"

Oooooooohhhhhhhh. Right. That makes perfect sense. Not.

And that is the story of how I learned about basketball, their dance, and yet another reason of why I don't follow sports.