======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
Every March I go through a familiar routine. As a man of the south, routine is comfort and change is scary. Much like a regular morning cup of coffee, my usual go at March Madness goes almost exactly the same every single year.
During conference tournament weekend, I watch my fair share of basketball, which is usually my first extended look at the sport aside from the occasional few minutes of a Saturday night game or a Duke-UNC matchup. Then the brackets come out, and via a combo of texts and tweets I whiningly let everyone know “I don’t know why I’m even going to bother filling one out. Just take my money on this wasted bracket.”
Is it to try to cushion myself from eventual disappointment and humiliation? Obviously. I pride myself on being a competitive individual; I’d be fucking pissed at coming in last in anything, no matter how little I follow it.
So I fill out my bracket, pulling up the match-up data and whimsically falling in love with teams. “Ranked 7th in the country in defensive points allowed per game AND playing in a tough conference? Great upset pick,” I’ll stupidly tell myself as I advance a team who I forget switched conferences three years ago. This goes on until finally I’ve talked myself into a national champion who I’ve then cursed into a 1st round upset. I credit solely my heavy hand for the Duke loss vs 15-seed Norfolk St. in 2012.
By the time that first tournament day rolls around, I’ve foolishly sold myself on hopes and dreams that maybe I made the right call and this one is a winner. In 48-96 hours, that hope comes crashing down like Enron stock. At first it stings internally like I drank bleach, and even hearing the words “How’s your bracket doing?” gives me instant PTSD. But after reality sets in, I realize I’m better for it. I knew I was going to lose, deservedly so, and now I can enjoy the rest of the tournament with no stress and no constant bracket checking.
Except…that’s not my reality this year. The Sweet Sixteen is set and your boy is right in the thick of things; not at the top of the points list, but most possible points remaining in both my pools. That’s too much hope for comfort and it’s got me on edge. Normally I’d have three days just eagerly waiting for some quality basketball games; now, however, I’ve got skin in the game with a bracket that’s still alive. I’m a bit shook.
I’ve been like Drew Barrymore in 50 First Dates, just going about my routine like clockwork, every year the same. However, with my bracket pulling an Adam Sandler and trying to creepily seduce me into something I know really shouldn’t work, I’m a little unsettled. Something tells me I won’t wake up pregnant in the arctic counting my bracket winnings; only crying on the floor after the national championship game.
Should I go about my normal routine like nothing has happened? Probably. But, there’s that voice in the back of my head. That one screaming “You’ve still got 7/8th’s of your Elite Eight in, you’ve almost hit payday!” If that voice sounds familiar, it’s because you know it too. That same voice is what told you that you might pass the multiple choice test that you primarily guessed on, or that the cop you just passed doing 15 over isn’t going to come after you. It’s the voice of false hope, and I know it.
However, I’m hooked. I’ve bought into hope. Yeah I picked these teams on a whim and this is sure as hell going to shit the bed on me like an infant with diarrhea, but I can’t help but hold out that maybe things go like I picked em. For me, March Madness always used to stand for simply 2-4 days of being literally mad in March, but at least for this week, I’m uncertainly walking on the tight rope to the light at the end of the tunnel. .
Image via Shutterstock
Respond
Kyle Bandujo
The artist formerly known as Crash Davis. My kid doesn't think I'm funny.
@kylebandujo
@bandujokyle
kyle.bandit
Anytime you see a story about me or my administration filling out a tournament bracket with “sources said.” DO NOT believe it. There are no sources, they are just made up FAKE media lies. Lightweight Obama filled out bracket each year. Should have been WORKING. Very sad!
I wouldn’t be shocked if this was actually Donald Trump, and if it is, fuck you. You never had any PGP. Still voted for ya tho.
Ride the wave until you inevitably crash and burn when Xavier wins it all.
Some fucker in the bracket pool that I organized this year actually picked Xavier to win it all. If he wins our pool I will be so pissed.
I’m in an 80+ person group with my fraternity brothers, and I am the only one who picked a team other than Villanova or Duke to make the final 4 out of the east region. I have no allegiance to Baylor University, but I will be cheering for those guys like my life depends on it this weekend
Sindarius gonna stomp them
Hell yeah! Sic ‘Em Bears. I’ve only got 6 of my elite eight still alive, and had ‘Nova in the final four. Upper middle of the pack, and hoping for a miracle.
Some guy at work tried tell me he got a perfect bracket one year. Yeah ok big shoots whatever you say.
Chance of having a perfect bracket is
1 in 9,223,372,036,854,775,808
So you’re saying there’s a chance.
I read ya
I had Nova vs Kansas in the final, with Kansas winning, and UNC and Arizona as my other two final four teams. My bracket took some major damage with Nova pulling a Nova and choking, but I emerged ranked #2 in my work league. Winner gets $600 so I’ll be a nervous wreck once again starting Thursday.
I didn’t fill a bracket out this year and I’ve never felt more relaxed in my life.
Saturday night 5/700. Sunday night 113/700. It’s over.
My bracket has gone to hell, but Duke lost, soooo it’s still a good day.
Same boat this year. I’ll save you a life raft when we both eventually crash and sink.
I had a nearly perfect bracket last year around this time. I think that was just karma for every other year when my Final Four teams all lose their first game.