Maybe it’s my inferiority complex of living in the shadow of an internationally-acclaimed Ivy League school. I feel like the Los Angeles Clippers, who share a city with the Lakers.  

Maybe it’s the fact that if I think about Cornell, I think about people like Andy from “The Office.” Yes, we’re impressed that you go to Cornell, but you’re still a huge tool. 

It’s probably somewhere in between generalization A and generalization B.

I’ve never had to rationalize these feelings to anyone or properly balance them out to actually define my stance on Cornell, pro or con. It’s abstract in the same way you might not like someone, and then six beers later you’re making out with them in a bathroom.

Do you like them now? Ask again later.

On Saturday night, the time came for all of my conflicted feelings about Cornell to manifest themselves in a single decision. Going to the Cornell-Brown basketball game, who do I root for?

Is it a sellout move to root for them? Yes, in the sense that I might pretend there is some sort of IC-Cornell rivalry.  But to root against them just because I’m jealous of their Ivy League diplomas is more an indictment on my own self pity than on Cornell.

It sounds like a choice between Jurassic Park III and IV. One’s worse than the next. 

The loyal Newman Nation who pack Cornell’s Newman Arena sees no such gray area. The Cameron Crazies they aren’t, but they certainly rock the arena. The student section gets shot-altering loud, and they’re on their feet for all 40 minutes.

More unexpected than anything, though, the Big Red are good this year; better than they’ve been in 20 years. They got a vote for the top 25 poll last week. That’s the Division I Top 25, and they’re one win away from punching their ticket to the Big Dance.

When you print out your bracket in March, Cornell will be on it — right next to Duke, UCLA and Memphis.   

And when Cornell comes out as a 12 or 13 seed, I’ll be rooting for them because I’m on the bandwagon. It doesn’t mean I’m popping my collar or heading to Chi Psi tonight. It means I’m a fan of the Cornell basketball team.  

It’s not that I’ve reconciled any of my internal turmoil as much as just getting swept up Saturday night. I don’t know if it was all the red or the 11 Cornell three pointers, but it was just plain fun.

And transplanted from Chicago to central New York, who else am I going to root for in March? Syracuse has NIT written all over them.