If this is March, then it must be time for the NCAA Tournament!

I am convinced that the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament is the greatest sporting event ever created.

Where else can you have millions of men openly discussing bubbles without public ridicule? What sporting event has as much opportunity for scrutiny for those who get invited to dance and who end up sitting at the kiddies’ table (NIT)? 

The NCAA Tournament consists of more than just 64 (65) basketball teams getting together and playing a tournament. NO! It turns countless millions into believing that they somehow have some semblance of a statistical mindset and out smart their competition. But its much, much more…

There is a rhythm…a pattern…a symphony that takes place within the media domain as well as the office water cooler that is like music to my ears. Let’s take a look at the masterpiece that is the NCAA Tournament and break it down as we would an 18^th Century Symphony.

FIRST MOVEMENT: This particular piece of music starts out, slowly, almost pianissimo; first there is the week before the conference championships where prognosticators and bracketologists begin to surface from their Unabomber-like shacks and start to infest the television and airways with their opinions that they seem so confident with. They come loaded with information on the teams that are “on the bubble” and need “X” amount of wins, or to go at least “X” number of games in their respective conference tournaments to secure an “at large” bid.

This is where we, as the average sports fan, start to hear the moos from the office as all walks of life begin to answer the cattle call that is “The Bracket”. There is a cattle-wrangler in every office. I am that man amongst, who madly makes copies on Monday morning to get the office hype going and the pool total growing.

SECOND MOVEMENT: The second movement in this musical masterpiece begins almost staccato, a quick, upbeat rhythm that brings a pep to the step and a quickening of the heartbeat as the conference tournaments wrap up and we await the secret order of the selection committee to come out of their liar and proclaim those that are welcome to their annual ball and those who simply did not do enough to impress their lordships to add them to the list.

“CRASH”…. The cymbals echo through the sports world as people rejoice, parties ensue, and hopes and dreams are crushed all at the same moment.

“BOOM”… The tympanis roll throughout the theatre as some coach from some big conference whose team likely left a few too many games on the table still feels that he/she needs to defend their team, all while personally introducing the entire country to their backside, likely removing any respect that was given him prior, and create instant media fodder that will be used to give praise by the teams’ “homers” and absolutely ridiculed by the rest of sports nation.

THIRD MOVEMENT: This typically is the tumultuous section where the music sounds like an electrical storm more than music.  This is where the media follows a very distinct patter.

The Monday following “Selection Sunday” discussing the teams that did not make it and the teams that squeaked in at the last minute.

Tuesday and Wednesday everyone needs to discuss the glass slippers and the “Cinderella” that they are taking to the dance. Upsets become the hottest topics among friends and often becomes debates that will even continue beyond the game actually being played and a victor decided.

[Stop…Tangent/Random Thought]

What I find most interesting is that beyond the “experts” who are willing to get on national television and radio, announce their picks and live or die by them, these two days are primarily used for what can be called nothing more than “fishing for leads”. If we all sit back and really think about, it is likely that you too are involved in some mid-week fishing. This is where we throw out our “Cinderella” theories to our most trusted friends (which at this time of the year is the guy who you think has the most knowledge about NCAA basketball) and see what type of response we get. A similar analogy would be when you have been dating someone for a while and you think they may be worth it. BUT… before it goes on, you need your friends to meet this person and get their take on the individual. This is the same concept except that you are throwing your potential upsets out there to either be accepted and build your confidence or absolutely laughed right out of the conversation, in which you turn to the next team, or the dating analogy, the next number in your black book and begin again.

[End Tangent/Random Thought]

You toss and turn over the feedback from your friends and co-workers. You have filled out, trashed, and re-completed a copy of the bracket at least a half dozen times, all the while knowing the first one you filled out was probably the best (you know this because you think this very thought every year as you turn in your final draft of your completed bracket and swear that next year you will simply fill it out, first shot, and call it day) and now you have so over-analyzed this thing that you make Mike Greenberg of Mike & Mike seem like he knows what the heck he is talking about.

You grit your teeth, bite your lip, and decide you are ready to do it… You are going to submit your bracket. Doubt and remorse immediately kick in the second it leaves your hand. The need to scream and yell “No, Wait…I…I…” comes and goes quickly as doubt and remorse slowly creeps into every thought in your mind. It is done; whether you win or lose, the last 72 hours pouring over the bracket is done. Finished.

FINAL MOVEMENT: The music feels like it is almost complete. All it needs now is one last push to go from a soft melody, ever increasing as the tournament continues to push closer to the first tip-off into a full fortissimo ending with the whole auditorium being moved to its feet.

You are excited…you are anxious…You are either rearranging your schedule so that you can check your favorite sports site for updates and/or you are streaming your favorite sports-talk radio shows for details and updates. 

Now…you may even be among the most extreme of cases, being a person who has either saved vacation days so that you can sit around, drink beers, and stare at a tube all day or systematically and methodically developed a serious flu over the past few work days, often start with a light cough on Monday and by Thursday are in the deep throws of an ailment that prevents you from working.

Either way, the tourney is up and running as you continue to burn and seethe as you watch all the picks you made on your first sheet win and your over-analyzed bracket fall to pieces in front of you very eyes, one game at a time.

The music increases to a crescendo, the Sweet Sixteen…the Elite Eight…the Final Four… The Championship Game…

The music is double fortissimo. The crowd is on its feet, cheering, applauding, whistling, and even screaming as the masterpiece reaches it’s final, triumphant chord.

The musicians take a bow; the players cut down a net;

The conductor lays down his baton; the League hands out its trophy;

The critics write their articles about the performances.

The sports media write and discuss the performances.

The audience will file out into the streets and discuss amongst themselves their thoughts.

The bracket-junkies will head back to work and discuss their brackets, the referees, the coaching, and the players…

....And all will talk about how much they cannot wait for the show to come around again next year.

See you next time on…. The Grumble