Well guys, it happened again. I picked all of the wrong Cinderellas and my bracket is officially on the way to being busted. I wasn’t even going to play this year, but then my ex-roomie pressured me into it and well, who are we kidding, I was going to play anyways.
It all began when I thought it would be fun to start a group with my freshman year dorm. Now, four years later, I am still the commissioner of this damn thing, which now consists of the original group plus all of the stragglers we picked up along the way throughout college.
The problem always begins when I spend WAY too much time filling out my bracket. I take it too seriously and am unable to just pick a freakin’ team at random. I sit there mulling over whether UNCW or Yale will be the team to pull off the upset and you can bet your bottom dollar that I’ll pick the wrong one. And then, when a team like Purdue gets ousted by the University of Arkansas at Little Rock, I want to just throw in the towel. No offense to UALR, but you’re a satellite school. A freakin’ satellite school just ruined my Sweet 16 on day one, DAY ONE. And, don’t even get me started on Arizona.
For the gazillionth year in a row, I’m officially at the bottom of both of my brackets and my blood pressure is through the roof. But, you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. I will toss and turn over my bracket decisions every god damn year making one bad pick after another, selecting all of the wrong Cinderellas and putting way too much hope into a long-shot. But, when it pays off, and it will pay off, it will be one hell of a celebration.
Until then, I’m going to stay far away from the world of sports gambling.