The above shot is my March Madness bracket. It’s how it starts, and how it ends.
Sorry to be a downer.
For years, I filled in all the slots, read newspapers for inside information, asked the “experts,” guessed here, guessed there. I probably did the Sports Illustrated pool for, oh, 15 years—never placing higher than 90th. I’m bad at doing these things. Really, really bad.
But that’s not why I’ve stopped.
I no longer engage in March Madness because I love March Madness. Specifically, I love the first two (main) days. I love Delaware 8, Michigan State 4 with three minutes go by. I love Mercer leading Duke, Manhattan ahead of Louisville, Harvard on top of Cincinnati. I’m an absolute embracer of underdogs, and the first few moments of the first few games of the NCAA Tournament are an underdog embracer’s wedding/Bar Mitzvah hybrid. There are no other moments like this in all of sports—where teams that have no shot (and no real business being here) scare the living shit out of Goliath. When asked, most people cite big moments for their big schools as their great personal March Madness moments. Not me. I loved this game. And this game. I had no affiliation—just a joy of the underdog underdogging.
So, no, I’m not filling out a bracket. Because I don’t want to root for my picks; I don’t want to root for favorites to stomp on ants.
I’m a Blue Hen, after all.
I’m all about underdogs.