No One Appreciates Me. At All.: It's time for a Maryland montage

Through much of this college basketball season, Maryland was the underdeveloped and uncertain grade schooler of the ACC, taking tentative strides toward, and away from, respect. It is the dance called coming of age, my friends. A one-eyed king in the myopic early-season world of special-needs teams from South Dakota and Long Island, the Terps seized up when the ACC bullies donned their wedgie gloves.

While the cooler kids cavorted, the Terps stayed home, flexing in front of the mirror and forlornly rifling through Details magazine. Sometimes they would sneak down to the school gymnasium and look in on the others through the cranked-open windows. A waft of pepperoni, Aquanet, and "Love Bites" would glide over them like a blue dolphin.

But one day, things changed. Forever. The girl next door passed a note to the Terps during fifth period social studies. They put the paper to their lips and breathed deep. It smelled of lilac and yellow cake. It smelled of her. After opening the note, the Terps' heart skipped a beat. She was wondering if they could be the ones who emerge from a frantic pack of ACC suitors to take her to the social event of the year. Some call it a sock hop. Some call it a shindig. Personally, I call it a dance. It is a dance of exceptional proportions. So I shall call it The Large Dance. In keeping with the size, you know.

The Terps went home, looked themselves over in the mirror. But this time, they looked different. We don't look half bad, they said to themselves. Why are we always so afraid to fail anyway? Why do we worry what the others think?

And right then, right there, something snapped.

And they began to train. Focused now, the cockiness slowly gave way to confidence, which built on itself like an extremely positive blemish outbreak. And last night, their training to this point culminated with revenge on Florida State, the nasty kid with the Napoleon complex from down the way. It was the first time these Terps took all the punches of an equal and returned them twice over, all the while keeping safe that note from the girl next door.

Now, Terps, it's decision time. Before they can be a lock for this dance, they must confront the Billy Zabka of the ACC -- North Carolina, who will await them Sunday at the abandoned condom factory. Or, as I call it, Comcast Center.

This is their biggest test yet. Do they have the guts, the will, to go all the way? To push BEYOND THE LIMITS!?!?!

Only a montage....will decide.

And the game, right, the game. But now, the montage...sing along if you know the words. Which you do. You also may listen along here. Montage, go...