Why Bracketmania Is Not for Me: A Contrarian's Point of View
Last year for the first time in years I did not fill out a NCAA Tournament Bracket ahead of the actual tournament.
If felt liberating, it gave me peace-of-mind as I watched games. I actually rooted only for teams I really wanted to win as I stuffed my face with cheese fries, potato skins, steak sandwiches and cheeseburgers, as opposed to rooting for the teams I needed to win. It actually allowed me to kick back and really enjoy my cigars as I watched four games at a time at Ticket's Sports Bar in Northern Kentucky.
All around me were people with their brackets laid out in front of them screaming at the TV screens. A lot of people had multiple brackets; all marked up in front of them.
I have to admit the idea to skip doing brackets was not mine, although I wish it was my idea. Last year Kyle Whelliston wrote a column about why you shouldn't enter your office pool that was published on Midmajority.com.
Whelliston describes how he would fill in the all the pairings as a kid when they were announced and then over the weeks fill in the winners. If a team he liked (always a mid-major) won he would fill them in with bold letters, with all caps and maybe even underline it. If a BCS team advanced he would write them down maybe using a pencil in real small letters, hoping they might disappear.
"Each naked tree branch on my bracket was a place where new spring leaves soon sprout and unfurl," wrote Whelliston. "When the champion was crowned, I could look back on my bracket and recall all the emotions I felt with each game. I still have most of my brackets from the eighties; each one is a map to my NCAA memories."
When I read that last year it really struck a chord with me. Whelliston's poetic way of describing a better way to enjoy the greatest sporting event in the world had to be better than the frustration of watching my predictions go further down the toilet with each round.
It can be absolutely maddening to watch a 20 year old player miss a buzzer-beater, or commit an untimely turnover or foul, in the closing seconds of a tight game playing for a team I really don't want to win, but since I picked them in my brackets, I was obligated to root for them.
Now for those of you not familiar with Welliston, he is the mid-major king. He eats, sleeps and writes about everything mid-major and he has no time to waste on Duke, Pittsburgh, Texas or any school above the redline, which is his way of separating the big boys and the so-called mid-majors in the world of college basketball. He bases his redline on how much money schools spend on college sports.
Years ago I began to think something was wrong. I would study college basketball, more than most people I know, but when the NCAA National Championship game was concluded I found that I lost in my office pool to people that knew a lot less than I did.
The difference between the office pool brackets and the ones that played out on the court were monumental. Watching the NCAA Tournament especially in the latter rounds was pure torture.
About four years ago I was sitting around a table with Lance McAlister, a popular sports talk-show host in Cincinnati, Richard Skinner, who used to be the Cincinnati Post's UK beat writer and Dan Peters the associate head coach at Ohio State. It was a round table discussion about college hoops at a Northern Kentucky sports bar. We had the cigars going, beer flowing and good food everywhere. It was quite an assortment of basketball knowledge.
About 30 minutes in, I asked if anyone had ever won an office pool. As we went around the table, it was nope, nope, not even close and nada.
It became evident that if that group can't accurately predict a sport they are heavily involved with on a regular basis, then there is no reason to enter the office poor with an expectation of winning.
Trying to predict random events on a basketball court is about the same as going to a casino and playing a slot machine.
I know there is probably a guy in your office that is the office sports nut. He always has two screens active on his computer at any given time. He has his work on one screen and a sports web page going on another, that he can minimize when the boss comes by.
He will come by and solicit you to join the office pool. It will be tempting because all the cool people in the office will be playing.
But this year, tell him no. Tell him, you want to enjoy the tournament this year and root for the teams that you really want to win. Maybe even do what Kyle suggests, fill out your brackets as the tournament progresses, printing the teams that you really like in big bold, colorful letters and the ones you do not like in a small dull number two pencil creatively misspelling them.
Leave the office pool to all the people that don't pay much attention to college basketball until the tournament. After all, they usually win the office pool anyway.
Try it, I did and it made watching the tournament a lot more fun and you may just get them all right this year.