March is almost over, which is a good sign because I don't think I can handle much more madness.
A quick aside: Putting things in historical perspective can be difficult, especially when a modern example challenges the perceived hierarchy. We tend to believe that the most recent instance stands alone, simply because it is the freshest in our memories. This, in turn, causes the "best ever" conversation to arise quite frequently; no one wants to relegate their opinion to the silver medal. "Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgandy" (2004) is the funniest movie of all time. No album can top "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" (1967). Taco Bell's cheesy gordita crunch is the ultimate late−night snack. These debates often disintegrate into a shouting match because, realistically, acquiescence is not an option.
Back to something more sports−related: So what would I say to someone who claimed that the 2011 NCAA Tournament was the greatest ever? I would first add some sort of baseless qualifier that it's solely their opinion and that it doesn't necessarily represent the beliefs of the masses.
Then I would respond that they're absolutely right.
We're just days away from tip−off time in Houston for the Final Four, and the reality is finally setting in: Either 11th−seeded VCU or eighth−seeded Butler will make the National Championship Game. This year's Final Four will be lacking a No. 1 or No. 2 seed for the first time ever, with No. 3 UConn and No. 4 Kentucky rounding out the field.
Cinderella's not just crashing the ball; she's driving the pumpkin carriage straight through the front door, mowing down the haughty aristocrats and leaving sobbing women and children in her wake.
A low seed reaching the Final Four is good. A mid−major low seed reaching the Final Four is great. But two mid−major teams seeded No. 8 or below advancing to college basketball's biggest stage? Those are near−impossible odds that, when executed, formulate an impossibly entertaining tournament sure to drive office workers insane.
Each March seems to inevitably be the season of chalk, when the top seeds plow through the weaker ones and upsets fall by the wayside. Raise your hand if you had just one No. 1 seed in the Elite Eight. How about three double−digit seeds in the Southwest Region's Sweet Sixteen?
I'm talking about first−round 5−12 games with a 4.5 average margin of victory or the 8−9 contests that were won by 3.5 points apiece. Look at VCU over Georgetown, then Purdue, then Florida State and finally Kansas; the Rams had little business even making the tournament to begin with, and certainly have no business being in the Final Four, but here we are, just two more victories from mayhem in Richmond.
The Princeton TI−89s nearly took down Kentucky before the Wildcats reeled off three more single−digit wins to give John Calipari another chance at choking away a national title. Evil stepsister Duke pleased a nation by blowing it against Arizona and Prince Charming Jimmer Fredette couldn't muscle BYU past Florida.
What about Butler's one−point win over Pittsburgh just days after a two−point victory versus Old Dominion? The Bulldogs are in the Final Four for the second straight season, this time sans Gordon Hayward, and I've developed a massive man crush on coach Brad Stevens and his enormous ears.
The brackets are shot, the pools decimated. Just two people on ESPN's bracket challenge nailed all four Final Four teams. Hell has frozen over. Pigs are flying. The month is full of Sundays. Grapes are ripe on the willow (That one's Croatian).
Nothing can dampen my spirits this time of year. Not miserable refereeing. Not atrocious coaching mistakes. Not the fact that announcers inexplicably decided that the opening four games would be called the "First Round."
And the year the madness supersedes 2011's, the cactus will grow on my hand (Polish).
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