Mike Tranghese prepares to say goodbye to the Big East Conference after thirty years of service, only ten of which were spent mangling it into a hybrid beast unrecognizable to those who loved it.

[blows on pitchpipe, hums, taps microphone]

It won’t be easy - you’ll think me strange
As I try to explain what happened
Even though you’ll still hate me after all that I’ve done

You won’t believe me
All you will see is a league of sixteen
Although you only care for the [original] nine
At least eight play football for you!

We had to let it happen, we had to change
Couldn’t stay away from fall TV appeal
Looking down to the South, wanting all of that cash

So I chose football
Running around, grabbing anyone new
Even if they played no hoop at all
With weak academics, too …

Don’t cry for me, Eastern Seaboard
The truth is, you’ll never leave us
Even when St. Johns
Must play Blue Demons
We broke our promise
But you won’t leave us

And as for Cardinals and Notre Dame
Sure, I invited them in
Though it seemed our league name would no longer make sense

Though they brought bowl games
They are not the solutions they promised to be
The answer was here all the time
With Catholics, Pitt and Orange, too …

Don’t cry for me, Eastern Seaboard
In time, you’ll see we still love you
When you retire down
To north of Tampa
Thank me that UConn
Must play South Florida

[straightens tie, wipes eyes]

Was it all too much?
There’s nothing more I must explain to you…