Sandwiches, Bitches.

Note: I am not in the habit of using that word to refer to the second person plural. If anything, I say "y'all."

To understand "sandwiches, bitches" you first have to read "Space, bitches."

Read it here.

(OK, anything that is even mildly complimentary to Meeechigan must be accompanied by this.)

Remember Meeechigan: You lost to THESE GUYS.

Heh heh. So that joke led into this one:

Read Part Two here.

So with that intro, I declare: sandwiches, bitches.

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I went to a small college in the Midwest that hasn't been good in basketball since the early 1970s. They got good this year, and a fellow alum and I made a bet with two guys at work who graduated from Illinois State, not exactly a powerhouse but a good team in the same conference. The wager: the basketball game between the alma maters. The prize: a Jimmy John's sandwich.


So our school won, and we crowed a little about our impending sandwich. All had agreed in advance for a double or nothing when the two schools met again later in the season. And we won again. Two sandwiches.


Over the weekend the conference tournament happened, with my school seeded #1 and Illinois State #2. We agreed before the tourney started that if the two teams met in the tournament, there'd be another sandwich on the line. I figured hey, it's tough to beat the same team three times in one season, but worst case scenario, I come out with one sandwich.

You may have seen the game (broadcast nationally on CBS) on Sunday:

Sandwiches, bitches.

That's right. Four sandwiches. A bonus sandwich to taunt those poor suckers.