What's grunt got to do with it?

I've been thinking a lot about grunting and flailing during March Madness.

In addition to the requisite athletic exertion by teams, there’s a veritable Olympics of the spectators – the hand waiving, gasping, forehead smacking, fist clenching, roar and grunting that comes with cheering a team on. It’s a lot of work.

And I can’t help but notice it doesn’t really GO anywhere, other than a vague feeling of gratitude that no one’s posting you and your gyrations on YouTube.

I’m kind of a spectator spectator when it comes to sports (I go to games to people watch. Sue me) but I do my own share of flailing without purpose. Today, my dog, who takes homeland security seriously, maimed a stray cat in my yard, and I had to have poor kitty put to sleep. Lots of mental gyrations here.

So I’m laying down a challenge for the armchair grunters and flailers – sports-induced or otherwise: How about after an exhilarating afternoon of athletic grunting and flailing, you channel those feelings -- be they celebration or despair -- by buying a net or two? 10 bucks, I argue, can buy a bit of mental peace. $20 may buy me back into heaven.

Even though I've already bought a fair amount of nets, I'm gonna go buy another one. For the poor kitty. Because my flailing isn't doing anybody any good. But buying a net will help a family in Africa that's got a lot more worries than I do.

This way, I can feel like I slam dunked something.

As I write this, we're 22 percent of the way to the goal. That's cool -- but it's still a ways from those nets.