I’ve officially rejoined society and this millennium with working Internet—finally! Go ahead and crack open a beer — it’s only fitting with this week’s theme:
- College Football Is Back: My team is off to a 1-0 start, so here’s hoping we don’t F it up against Maryland this weekend! S-O-U-T-H, F-L-O-R-I-D-A, South Florida, South Florida, Gooooo Bulls! (Never said we were particularly creative.)
- Pro Football Is Back: Tomorrow begins the most wonderful time of the year — the pro football season! I’ve been dreaming of pigs in a blanket and cheese dip and soft pretzels since February … because clearly, it’s all about the food.
- Fantasy Football Is Back: I’m making up for lost time last season and in two leagues this year. (Plus a pick ‘em pool, but who’s counting?) Obsessing over individual players for the next 4 months will definitely not annoy my friends. Not one bit.
- FOOTBALL.: Didja hear? Like a kid on Christmas, I will be that incessant chatterbox and fill up on candy (or beer) to the point of explosion. You’ve been warned.
The time is upon us once again — the time when I cling desperately to a crumpled piece of paper, when I am anxious and nauseous and can’t control my emotions, when I make everyone around me wallow in my misery too. “March Madness” is so alliteratively angelic, but I prefer to call it “March Sadness” instead.
Year after year, I make my picks. I create a mix of Cinderella stories with longtime favorites. I agonize over one singular matchup to the point of red-faced frustration. I am convinced when all is said and done, that this is going to be the year: I will not fuck this up.
And then it happens.
This year’s dream-killer award goes to Pittsburgh. I put all my balls in one bracket, and I thought that pushing a fellow Big East team to the Final Four would be a cause for celebration. Oh, me of little faith. Pitt screwed the pooch … rather, the pooch screwed Pitt. The Butler Bulldogs came in and crushed all hopes of salvaging my first round’s 22-10 record.
I huffed and I puffed, and all that fell down was my miserable excuse of a bracket selection. Down to the floor it dropped, along with any hopes of winning my pool’s sweet, sweet pot.
This isn’t new for me, so I shouldn’t be surprised. Every year, I do relatively well in the first round. Last year, I was 26-6. Then the second round will come, and all is shot to hell. My championship picks get pulverized, and I curse myself for what could’ve been.
I know I’m not alone here. Which team has made you sad this March? And which teams do you still have left, that you’ll be cursing come Thursday?
Note: For anyone reading who is sitting on winning picks, you know what you can do … and how to get there.