Busting my Brackets

Since 1985, when the month of March rolls around I become ‘That Guy.’ You know, the guy:

·      Responsible for costing big business in the United States $1.7 billion in lost productivity.

·      Responsible for Americans wagering $70 million of their hard-earned money.

·      Responsible for the biggest time suck that isn’t Facebook. 

Yep, when March arrives I become the guy responsible for putting together the annual office pool for the NCAA Basketball Tournament.

Yeah, THAT guy.

‘March Madness’ is my annual Rite of Spring.  I’ve loved college basketball since I was 15 years old.  It was during the winter of 1970 on those special Saturday afternoons when LSU was playing in the SEC Game of the Week (yes, there was only one college basketball game on Saturdays back in the Stone Age).  Why the attraction to LSU?  Two words: Pete Maravich.  Greatest college basketball player EVER. (This is not up for debate until someone averages more than Maravich’s 44.2 points per game for their college career.  By the way, there was no silly three-point shot in those days.)   Back to the story…

My basketball pool is slightly different than most.  The rules are simple:

·      Select five teams in the tournament.

·      You can only pick one #1 seed (but you don’t have to pick any if you don’t want to).

·      The seeds of your five teams must add up to 16 or more.

·      Winner is determined by total victories of your five teams.

In the early days of my pool (before it was common to see a #12 seed defeat a #5 seed in the first round—1991, if you must know) the rules were slightly different.  You still selected five teams, but you couldn’t pick any #1’s.  The new rules were put in place immediately following the year that the butt-munch who always picked the four #2 seeds and a random #3 seed finally won the pool.  

What’s interesting to me is that every year—without fail—when people turn their selections in to me for the office pool they look at my face to see my reaction.  It’s like they think I know something they don’t.

Here’s what I DO know: I picked #3 seed Illinois in 1987 as one of my five teams.  They played #14 seed Austin Peay in the first round.  They literally played the first game of the tournament in a game that Dick Vitale said before the opening tip that he would ‘stand on his head’ if Illinois lost.  Final score: Austin Peay – 68, Illinois – 67.  Not only did I lose one of my five teams in the very first game played in the tournament, I was also mathematically eliminated from winning the office pool as someone else in the pool had selected Austin Peay…and his four other teams were exactly the same as mine.  Adding insult to injury, I attended the game in person.

Here’s something ELSE I do know: In 1988 one of the people in the office pool picked Kansas (a #6 seed) as one of their teams.  When he gave me the piece of paper with his five selections I said ‘thanks for the donation’ and then asked him what he was thinking when he picked Kansas.  I’ll bet you can’t guess which team won the tournament.  I’ll also bet you can’t guess who won the office pool.  Me and my big mouth.  From that point forward I quit mocking anyone’s selections because Karma can be an absolute b*tch.

So after 30 years of being ‘that guy’ how have I fared in the pool I organize?  Like I said, Karma can be a b*tch.  You can figure out the rest on your own.

I will, however offer you the guidelines I follow without fail when selecting my five teams every year.  For what it’s worth, I never, ever pick:

·      Teams starting with the letter ‘A’:  Alabama, Auburn, Arkansas, Austin Peay (dammit), Appalachian State, etc.

·      Multi-directional teams (Southwest, Northeast, etc.).

·      Teams from the Big Ten (Why?  Here’s your clue: Illinois.  Also, down here in SEC land we don’t formally recognize the Big Ten).

·      Georgia.   (Note: I always encourage people to pick their alma mater as one of their five teams.   I am a University of Florida alumnus, and I have to admit it’s worked out pretty well since Billy Donovan took over the Gator basketball program in 1996.  As a die hard Gator alum, I wouldn’t pick Georgia to beat a dead horse.   

Once in a while I’ll pick a highly seeded, highly favored team that I really can’t stand as one of my five teams (I’m looking at you, Big Blue).  I figure if they win (as they’re expected to do) that will help me in the office pool.  If they lose it makes losing a whole lot easier to digest and I’ll be totally honest: Sometimes it feels damn good.   

I knew one guy who always picked five ACC teams (he never won the pool).  And another guy who always took the time to do extensive research each year by pouring over power rankings, strength of schedule and the like (he never won the pool either).  Another who picked by how cute the name of the schools’ mascots were (she won the pool).  Or by the color of their uniforms (she won that year as well).

 

The NCAA Basketball Tournament, plain and simple, is a crapshoot.  Heck, even the NCAA itself has implemented two ‘play-in’ games that allows for an additional four teams to participate.  The reason is simple: Each conference has a tournament at the end of the year and should a team with a record of, let’s say 10 – 20 win it ‘muddies the waters’ of putting the 64 ‘best’ teams in the country in the tournament.  So now the NCAA has taken out four ‘insurance policies.’ 

Personally I think the tournament should open itself up to allowing every single college in the country to participate.  It’s not like the powers-that-be have a sure-fire formula for picking the 68 absolute best teams in the country.  And since 68 teams participate already, what’s another 280 or so?  With the potential for added television revenue, I’m surprised the NCAA hasn’t jumped on this one already.   

Besides if every school was invited to play, just imagine:

Colgate could appear on national television as something other than toothpaste.