As the NCAA Tournament concludes tonight with the National Championship game, Erik Crosier offers the only two ingredients you need to achieve your Zen: a ball and a hoop.
Carlton Suede is about to dunk the ball. Without an ounce of grace — his mutt of a mother used to call him “our clubfooted son” — he is rising through the lower ether. Above the marshmallow-thick white soles, higher than the tense, ribbed socks, surpassing even the shiny mesh culottes of his despairing opponents. [...]