I am a sweaty person. Not just a little, not merely a light sheen of perspiration on hot days or after after exercise, but sweaty. Rivulets become torrents become a full-body drenching at the first sniff of 90 degrees or after the mildest of exertions. I am a disgusting human being, more liquid than man, my sweat visibly soaking through shirts and even, on special occasions, the heavy denim of jeans. No one wants to sit next to me on the subway, because they will stick. No one wants to guard me in basketball, because they will slide right off my body like it’s a stone thick with pond scum. Sweatiness is my curse. All of this is to say: Sean Miller, I get you.

Not only did Miller have to watch his sixth-seeded Wildcats fall 65-55 to Wichita State, but he was ridiculously uncomfortable going so. Maybe it was the tension of being down to the underdogs all game, or the bright lights of the arena, but already by midway through the first half, the Arizona coach had melted.

So, yes, the obvious answer here is a good, absorbent undershirt, even just an a-shirt to avoid overheating. And check the materials on the shirt—without knowing for sure, it looks like Miller went for some poly blend. Stick with cotton, or, if you know it’s going to be hot as shit, spring for linen.

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But it was too late for Miller. Arizona team managers were actually dispatched back to the hotel to fetch a new shirt for Miller to change into at halftime. It worked...briefly.

It is slightly weird that basketball and hockey coaches have to wear full suits (though not nearly as weird as baseball managers wearing uniforms). This is the price we all pay on occasion.

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The Wildcats’ loss—they were overwhelmed by the Shockers’ swarming D, which should present real problems for Miami—means Miller’s out in the first round for the first time in a decade. At least he gets to go home to Arizona’s low humidity.