We All Are Wrong, Yet We Continue to Try...

Every year millions of my Americans complete an enjoyable process, in which we write team names in series of lines and boxes. Then we sit back and watch in angst as 18-22 year old men play a child's game in which they try to throw an orange ball into a metal circle that is suspended ten feet above ground more times than the other team does for 40 minutes.  Many Americans like to think they have the correct combination of teams to create a perfect bracket, though the actual odds of that happening are 1-in-100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. For those of you who were not math whizzes, that is 1-in-100 million trillion.

International affairs come in second place to March Madness.
Barack Obama and British Prime Minister David Cameron.

But not me. No, filling out the bracket is a miserable process. I overthink lay-up picks and underthink the halfcourt shots. I become enamored with a team solely because every one in my bracket pools and the experts have a popular choice. Instead of picking a mid-major like VCU, Butler or George Mason that completes their Final Four journey, my dark horse pick is usually gone by the end of the first weekend. It is a agonizing process to fill out my bracket every year, which is why I limit myself to only one bracket--as you should to if you have any integrity. 

I like to think I know basketball. I do my homework, and follow it closely (though I rarely write about it), but there is no way to know what team will go on to the next round in a single-elimination tournament like the NCAA Tournament. It is because said zaniness and no-sense order that those like myself, who pay attention to the game, are just as lost as everyone else from from the middle of March to early April in the realm of college basketball.

John Calipari's Kentucky team is the early favorite, but we all know what
that means... nothing.

So here's to you casual fan who will win the office pool because you picked Loyola (Md.) because you picked the team that would win if the mascots raced that a greyhound would dominate the competition. And to you casual fan who wins a lump sum of money between old college friends because you had a Wichita State-St. Louis-Harvard-Purdue Final Four because you had no idea what a Shocker, Billeken, Crimson or Boilermaker is or does. 

Here is my bracket, open to humiliation for all of the world to see. I know my picks are bad and do not be afraid to call me out on them if you please. Regardless of how you came to your Final Four, it has to be more correct than mine, thus closer to that 1-in-100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000.