It’s finally here.
I’m one of those people who will tell you that March Madness, from Championship Week to ‘One Shining Moment’, is the greatest time of the year. It combines the water cooler event status of the Super Bowl, with the edge-of-your-seat intensity of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, all the while managing to crown a true champion (further embarrassing the BCS). It is the tournament that gives us ‘glass slipper’ Cinderellas, ‘David vs. Goliath’ and Gus Johnson unchained. It’s the only way most of America will remember Northern Iowa or IUPUI, and turns 19 year-olds into immortals forever.
It’s also the time of year that billions are lost in productivity, as America falls victim to the quest for a perfect bracket. I’m one of those people who year after year enters the office pool, studiously pours over the teams and match-ups only to lose to Janet from accounting who picked Duke because it was her dog’s name.
As much as we celebrate the uncertainty of the big dance, and as irrational as it was, it used to drive me crazy. How could I finish behind my buddy Rubin every time? Intellectualizing the situation offered no consolation, until finally I stopped trying. Read more…