So in a nutshell, I always join my dad, uncles and cousins for a men-only trip to NYC for the Big East Tournament. We’re all inherent Pitt supporters despite birth location, current location and/or collegiate alma mater. The majesty of the story is that the only blood relative of mine on the trip was my dad. In short, all Pitts students, my dad and his fraternity pretty much married everyone in my mom’s sorority. Keeping us kids in a pretty tight age range, they all had kids around the same time and raised us to call and know each other as cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews. Now that the sons are all of drinking age, getting married and having kids of our own, we join our dads for the trip, who have been going pretty much since they were in college. With Pitt out of the tournament before our plane even landed, the trip took on a different dynamic than years prior. Below is what I experienced while I was sober enough to see what I was typing into my phone. Bartenders in NYC love how Pittsburghers get down. Enjoy.
#BigEastUpdate 18: never actually existed due to lack of sleep and lack of full sobriety and consciousness.
