Tonight at midnight, teams across the country will be doing some version of Midnight Madness. (A few teams also did this last week, because they don't care about the sanctity of the Madness. For shame.) The events vary in name: "Hoosier Hysteria," Minnesota's "Tubby's Tipoff," Wisconsin's "Night of the Grateful Red" and so on. The names are eclipsed in silliness only by the things the coaches have to do in front of the student body -- things like rising from caskets (Billy Donovan) or riding in on motorcycles (Tom Izzo) or doing the Soulja Boy (Jerry Rice, countless others).

It's a crazy night of hoopsness. And guess what: Ben Howland doesn't play that s---:

Howland has never embraced the idea of Midnight Madness, which makes the first day of NCAA-sanctioned team practices more like a televised recruiting show than a workout. What Howland wants when practice is officially allowed is, well, practice. "There's not much time until the first game," Howland says. "I don't want to waste a practice."

Fun? Silliness? Get the eff out of here, son. Howland doesn't do "fun." Tonight he's going to make the Bruins run sprints for three hours. Then they'll shoot free throws until they make 1,000. In a row. Then they'll clean Howland's summer home -- it got quite dirty this season, you know -- with nothing but toothbrushes and dish soap. Read the nametag, J'Mison. You're in Ben's world now.

For the record, USC's Tim Floyd isn't doing Midnight Madness either, but that's less because he detests flash and more because he misses O.J. Mayo so much. Midnight Madness? More like Midnight-Eat-Ice-Cream-From-The-Carton-And-Watch-P.S. I Love You.

Related: Pac-10 Basketball, Midnight Madness