You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
March Madness.
It’s a televised spectacle. It’s one part sports and one part national obsession.
It’s a leprauchan circumsizing himself with a sharpie.
It’s a potato chip mainlining heroin.
It’s cheap beers at theme restaurants with a million tv screens.
God Love America. I’m going blind grandma.
What is it you said I shouldn’t do alone in my room again?
Watch NCAA basketball? I can’t see.
We are a nation of sedentary excess. We love to plop our fat asses down on bar stools and eat greasy heart stopping swill while basketballs float through the air and rip nets across the nation.
We love to wash down 3’s with a cavalcade of beer.
We want to make love to the box and one defense. We want to slather it with cheese dip and gulp it down with fried pickles.
This Thursday, America is going to cut a line of 64 teams and snort March Madness up its nose.
Our heart is going to race like an indy car soaked in lighter fluid.
Thursday around noon, we are going to drive that nitro burning funny car into the wall of athletic extremism.
Someone better have EKG paddles standing by.
Someone with some medical knowledge better be on hand because by opening tip, my heart has an appointment with a flat line prompted by an adrenaline rush.
America is going to to watch CBS and ESPN and something called Tru TV.
We are going to sport jerseys and colors that are near and dear to our hearts.
We are going to watch buzzer beaters and floor busters and down to the wire finishes that rat a tat tat like a Chicago Mob Hit.
Let’s go to Virginia versus tiny Belmont Jim Nance will say.
And suddenly with :38 to go, the little team that could and the mighty team that should will be balls to the wall trying to advance.
One and Done.
It’s a crazy concept.
Anyone can win. Anyone can lose.
America is going to OD on Wildcats from Kentucky and Arizona.
The NCAA basketball tournament is a joyful slice of basketball bliss.
It’s apple pie and Chevy Camaros and a ball that swishes through a net.
But that’s Thursday.
Today is Tuesday.
That means we are all staring at brackets wondering what the F should I do?
Kentucky over Hampton/Manhattan is simple.
That’s a simple decision like should I breathe? Should I get the wife flowers on mother’s day?
What about SMU vs UCLA? So many blank boxes, so many choices.
What about Georgia State vs Baylor. It seems obvious, but is it?
What about Michigan State and Georgia, two teams that are similar.
MSU has 23 wins and 11 losses.
George has 21 wins and 11 losses.
One team is Big 10. One team is SEC.
Who the hell knows, right? Pick a slot, make a choice, move on.
Oh, that wrong choice could haunt you for the next three weeks?
Choose wisely grass hopper.
Yes siree.
It’s bracket time. It’s organized gambling. It’s office pools and prayers of hope.
This is the week when corporate America takes a national siesta. This is the week when workers will pick up the phone, cough, and tell their supervisor they have a tickle in their throat.
“Oh I’m really sick, boss.”
“Take care of yourself Earl.”
Earl smiles and then heads to Buffalo Wild Wings and begins slurping hot wings with guacamole chasers.
By the 6th game, Earl is a DUI waiting to happen.
Earl is a fire storm of vomit and incatations of bar evil that will be spoken forcefully into a toilet or a rear parking lot by a dumpster.
Villanova and Lafayette and LSU.
For basketball fans it’s Christmas.
For gamblers it’s heaven sent..
For workers, it’s a blue flu.
For TV Networks it’s cha ching.
The Final Four.
It’s America, It’s here, It’s Madness.
Life’s crazy™