Bracketeering
My husband printed out our March Madness brackets this morning. Politics definitely entered my choices- like, hmmm, a team from Florida, the state that no longer mandates childhood vaccination…BUH BYE. Filling out my bracket reminded me of this blog post that I wrote in March, 2011 which I thought I’d share :)
“My early companionship with Jim brought with it a plethora of new experiences. Real half ‘n half. Homemade ice cream. Bicycles. The Gathering. And March Madness.
I was never a basketball fan growing up. In fact, basketball falls into the same category as ice hockey and football- I have never physically attended a professional game. I would have never gone to a college game in these sports either had it not been for when my classmates and I snatched up some season football tickets during my graduate school days at the University of Michigan (and had a BLAST, might I add, even though Michigan really sucked that year. In fact, have they even improved since then? Perhaps it was my presence way, way up in the student section back in 2005 that spurred their decline).
Growing up, the phrase March Madness was only used in reference to our frustrations at having to scrape ice off the car for the bajillionth time that winter. In no way was it ever used in conjunction with the words college basketball. Then I began dating Jim, and in February his eyes began to gleam and he clapped his hands together in excitement and anticipation every time he realized we were one day closer to March. Strange, I thought, but I attributed it to the devastating effects of seasonal affective disorder and poured him another cup of coffee. Finally, one Sunday evening I was at his apartment studying, and he pulled his chair RIGHT up to the television as the names of colleges were called and rooms full of boys leapt up and cheered like a bunch of girls. I had NO idea what was going on, and grew even more perplexed when the printer began churning out two pieces of paper, one of which flittered through the air and landed on my Endocrinology notes.
”Here’s your bracket! ! “ he danced. “My what? “That was eight brackets ago. And over these years, I have to say that I have mastered the art of completing a bracket.
While others spend hours analyzing statistics and pouring over message boards online, I select my bracket picks with an ease I wish I possessed for all other decisions in my life. I become consumed by the delightful power of reckless abandon. It goes like this: “Kansas #1 versus Boston U. #16. Duh, Kansas (circle Kansas). UNLV #8 versus Illinois #9. I live in Illinois, so moving along (circle Illinois). North Carolina #2 versus Long Island #15. Mmmmm, Long Island ice tea. . FOCUS FOCUS (circle North Carolina). USC versus VCU? Well, U comes before V in the alphabet (circle USC). GO USC! ! GO USC! !”
The whole process takes me about 30 seconds. Jim takes his time. From my observations, he seems to rely on his intuition first, followed by some light research for those difficult picks. He completes multiple brackets for good measure, one for the cat, and this year, one for the baby. The cat’s is easy (he selects all the teams with feline-inspired mascots), but he commented that without teams like “Our Lady of the Pacifier” or “Infant State, “ the baby’s bracket might be more of a challenge.
Just because I do my bracket completely half-assed does NOT mean I do not enjoy the tournament. If anything, my bracket gives me a definite leg up in my viewing pleasure. I now have a team to cheer on, an investment in the March Madness viewing experience. A happy marriage takes time and effort- enjoying March Madness with the husband does wonders for our union (as does waiting to watch the William Hurt version of Jane Eyre until he is down in the exercise room). And it’s plain ole fun!
Seeing how much enjoyment I’ve had in past years, I have tried to encourage my father to fill out his own NCAA bracket. My dad, an avid follower of English League soccer, Formula One racing, rugby, and cricket, usually responds by giving me a look that makes me wonder if instead what came out of my mouth was, “Hey Dad, have you ever tried hula hooping with a cooked spaghetti noodle? It’s AWESOME!” It’s truly no wonder that I had never heard of the real March Madness before meeting Jim.
To finish, remember how I said that I wish I could make all my decisions like my bracket picks? Wouldn’t it be great if every series of choices came in bracket form? I could really go for that. What movie should we watch next on Netflix? Well, let’s complete our Netflix movie bracket! Where should we go out to eat? Wishbone versus Orange? Frasca versus Four Moon? Cheddar or American cheese? French fries or onion rings? Boom boom boom- there’s no second guessing, no pointless time-sucking pondering. Just one juicy burger and a content belly.”
