Broken In Brief: Area man unable to think of network based signs to wave at NCAA tourney

INDIANAPOLIS—As he eagerly awaits the start of the third round of this year's NCAA March Madness basketball tournament, area attention whore Garret Johnson finds himself afflicted with writer's block. The local scourge of televised sport has been unable to think of any basketball or college-themed signs that incorporate the three letter call sign of the network broadcasting the event, CBS.

“How am I going to get on TV unless I come up with a good enough sign,” a tense and jittery Johnson said. “Just look at the teams playing: Kansas, Louisville, Arizona, and Michigan. Not a goddamned C, B, or S anywhere. Some lucky bastard watching the Memphis bracket is going to get on camera with a ‘Can’t Beat Syracuse’ sign and I’m gonna be stuck trying to wedge Arizona into mine. Maybe I can just make an announcer reference. Something that says ‘Hi Gus Johnson’ or ‘Indy loves Dick Enberg’, but that’s just scraping the bottom of the barrel. Wait, it’s Michigan State. ‘Can’t Beat State’. Fuck, does anyone even call them ‘State’?"

Friends and family say this is the most distraught Mr. Johnson has been since writer’s block struck him before the 1995 Colts/Steelers AFC Championship Game. It was at this game, an eventual Colts loss, where Mr. Johnson resorted to just waving around a giant CBS logo in a vain attempt to get on camera. They say he was nearly inconsolable when the sign “Colts Beat Steelers” came to him in a dream on the drive home.

“They’ll never put me on if I go waving a giant logo again,” Thompson moaned. “These televised corporate suck ups have to appear to be grassroots and heartfelt, not just nakedly commercial. Maybe I’ll have to sink to depths I’ve never had to go to before… maybe I’ll be one of those jackasses who dresses up in a bizarre costume. If I jump around and caper they’ll have to put me on. Or something religious, maybe. What's the deal with that 'John 3:16 shit? Anything to do with Dick Vitale? No?” he finished, trailing off into emotional waling and weeping.

His family hopes that by going back through some old game tapes and camera pans of audiences, Mr. Johnson will jog his memory and get those creative juices flowing. Some are even holding out hope that this ordeal will cause him to grow up and learn to watch a sporting event without toadying to a conglomerate in return for 3 seconds of face time, but they acknowledge these hopes are remote.