That wicked stunk

Well, that sure was a long way to travel to suffer such a stinging and humilating loss. There's no amount of chowder or Samuel Adams that can dull that harsh reality.

We should have seen it coming, we really should have. Any time there's a game with a big fat albatross hanging around its neck, in this case Providence's 17 game conference losing streak, our opponents are in luck, because the Cards are here to cure what ails ya.

There was a lot to ruminate on during the train ride back to snowy Boston. Despite the dramas of the game, much centered on whether the Cards are simply fated to this while led under Pitino. They'll be moments of scintillating basketball and excitement, but don't get your hopes up, because the trap door loss is coming like clockwork.

It feels like that's been the dynamic around the program for a long time, and it's getting wearisome. Yesterday was a game the Cards should have won, had to win. Once again, the Cards failed to execute down the stretch and saw the momentum of the season come to a screeching halt.

Aside from that, Mrs. Lincolns, the trip has been fantastic. Boston is a blast and we intend to live up our final day to the fullest and bask in the anonymity of a town the couldn't care less about college sports.

We'll recap our not so excellent adventure tomorrow, where we tackle such subjects as Peyton Siva's disastrous decision-making skills, Gorgui's hilarious affinity for goal tending, bogus illegal screens, officially banning the word "sharpshooter" from ever being attached to Mike Marra's name, a Boston bartender that lived up to my wildest dreams of what a Boston bartender would be like, a Providence dance team that's truly "special", and rank the best clam chowder in the Northeast.

See you then. Go Cards.