When Bill Raftery yells “Onions” in March, it has a double meaning for me. Yes, there’s the ballsy, clutch late-game heroics.
But in addition: Cue the crying. Give me tears from players, spectators, parents, refs … whoever.
Apparently, some fans need a refresher in that March Madness tradition.
On Thursday, because the clock ran out on the Utah State-Missouri game, the TNT broadcast cut to a tearful Aggies cheerleader.
The lens lingered on the beautiful blonde — her chin quivering as she stifled an incoming sob.
It was a quintessential college basketball moment, but some viewers were annoyed that the network was specializing in the sidelines — or, perhaps, exploiting the young woman, who has since been identified as Ashlyn Whimpey.
“Bruh why does TNT keep showing the crying Utah State cheerleader?? Chill,” one fan complained on Twitter.
“Seriously, TNT? Highlighting a crying cheerleader?” one other quipped.
Oh, the humanity. Literally, the humanity. That’s the purpose. That is March.
Whimpey’s tears are a necessary a part of tournament coverage: She is an avatar for the raw emotion that March Madness delivers — encapsulating in a couple of seconds of footage what makes this tournament so rattling special.
Lately, college basketball has been subject to quite a few shifting norms, from the rule allowing players to make the most of their very own “Name, Image and Likeness,” to the transfer portal and the one-and-done.
Players don’t should stick around anywhere for 4 years anymore, and the musical-chairs rosters have fundamentally modified the sport. After which there’s the NCAA, which rakes in over a billion annually.
But when the Big Dance arrives, small moments like this remind us that underneath the massive money circus of school sports, there’s still an actual beating heart.
Many of the ballplayers aren’t moving to the following level. That buzzer-beater ended not only their careers, but in addition that of the cheerleaders, the band members and the senior who hyped the scholar section all season long.
Before Whimpey, there was Villanova’s Roxanne Chalifoux, who became the face of March Madness in 2015.
Dubbed the “crying piccolo girl,” she tearfully played on as her No. 1 Wildcats were bounced by NC State.
Fans were so enchanted together with her that she ended up on Fallon and got her own bobblehead.
In 2017, it was the ‘crying Northwestern kid’ whose on-camera meltdown became that yr’s meme.
That is what sports — especially the NCAA tournament — do: like a treacly Hallmark card, they make us feel stuff.
It’s not only concerning the guys playing.
In March, the tournament showcases, on a national stage, the complete ecosystem that exists across the hardwood. There’s the benchwarmer whose artful towel waving is as fascinating because the motion on the court, the creepy mascot (yes, I’m you, Friar Dom), the child within the band with the ridiculous hat, the praying parents in the gang and, yes, sometimes the crying cheerleader.
In 2020, the tournament went on an unthinkable hiatus on account of Covid.
In 2021, it returned in a pared-down, nearly crowd-free fashion. While it was good to have b-ball back, there was a palpable void.
These authentic, unscripted moments are an antidote to our obsessively filtered online presentations of our lives, where every little thing has been made to appear flawless.
They go viral because there are not any touch-ups, Photoshop or mugging for the camera. Just humans captured within the wild, letting themselves feel human feelings.
But don’t shed any tears for the crying Whimpey, who dates Utah State guard Sean Bairstow.
Now, she money in and get an NIL deal to show her very public tears into some scratch.
Kleenex, are you watching?
