Saturday, March 24, 2007

MARCH IS MY FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR

There are several reasons for this statement. The obvious one is that spring is teasing us. I can't stand the dreariness of winter, and I understand why suicide rates go up around the holidays, especially in cities that are constantly subjected to atrocious weather, like Seattle. No, cold weather is for saps. There are few feelings better the one you get when you take that first drive of the year with the windows down. A convertible would be preferred, but I have not afforded myself that luxury at this point in time. I digress. The real reason March is so enjoyable for me is that I am able to indulge completely in the exquisite ceremony that takes place every year. I am referring, of course, to the NCAA championship tournament, and the conference tournaments that lead up to it. It's like an entire month of Superbowl Sundays. There is simply nothing like it in the realm of professional or collegiate sports. The parity in the world of NCAA basketball is so great, that amazing upsets and great games are always ensured. Being a fan lets a person break completely loose. If you are lucky enough to have tickets, I recommend that you get a hotel room close to the tournament's whereabouts, even if you live in the same city. Make sure to stock up on booze and other provisions. The NCAA conference tournament experience is not defined by basketball alone. Grab friends and attack the city. Stay up late, visit unfamiliar bars, fraternize with strangers, trash hotel rooms, drink constantly, sleep in, and miss the first game of the next day. The games themselves are amazing. Aside from the twelve dollar beers and hicks from Columbia that have made the two hour trip still morosely clinging to the hopes that their pathetic team might somehow luck their way into the big dance, there is not much to dislike. If you leave the arena at the end of the day with your voice intact, you are not doing it correctly. There is something cleansing about the whole ordeal. there is something very real and altogether humanizing about coming together with thousands of other individuals to get excited about something that has no real consequence. When it is all over with, you should be worn out and dirty, wearing stale clothes from the night before, with a great sense of satisfaction. Try as you might, this satisfaction will not be enough to hold you over until next year.
The NCAA tournament is an entirely different animal altogether. It is highly unlikely that you will be able to follow your team around the country to watch their games, so you will undoubtedly have to settle for watching the games at bars with strangers, or intimate gatherings of friends in the den of whoever is unfortunate enough to have the largest TV.
Filling out a bracket for the NCAA tournament is a fool's science, much like meteorology. Anyone that claims they know whats going on in this area is completely full of shit, or a complete idiot, or both. The years in which you think you have it all figured out, you have some kids from some backwards school like George Mason playing possessed for 2 straight weeks and somehow finding themselves in the final four, as was the case last season. Of course, they were on borrowed time. They were housed by a Florida team that later back doored their way into a national title. Naturally, it was fun to see these kids from Virginia knock out perennial powerhouses like North Carolina and Connecticut, but it would also have been nice for them to put up a fight in the semifinals. In short, they fucked the brackets of an entire nation save for those faithful idiots turned geniuses that picked George Mason to go all the way.
March turns any decent fan into a raving savage that barks orders at his TV and flops across the couch whenever a call goes the other way. Everyone turns into a coach. Throw cash bets into the mix, and the NCAA tournament can turn a normally composed individual into a blathering numbskull in the span of time it takes for an errant in bounds pass to turn into a dazzling buzzer beater. It's because this one is for all the proverbial marbles. You lose, you go home for seven long months to think about what could have or should have happened differently. It sounds simple. Just win six games in a row. Whittling sixty five teams down into one national champion is simple in theory. However, each win down the line becomes exponentially more difficult to achieve. The entire tournament is one month long gauntlet and it takes a lot of skill and even more luck for a team to come out on the other end unscathed.
All of this is what makes March so intense. Throw a spring break and copious amounts of alcohol into the mix with the great basketball and good weather, and there isn't much not to like about this time of year. It is an experience that one should be completely committed to. No half assing this business.