The month of March kind of sucks with few exceptions, including March Madness. Who doesn’t love throwing a few bucks down, filling out a bracket with well-researched or completely random picks, and maybe possibly getting a huge ass prize at the end?
I thought I did. Until I turned into a complete monster.
Here’s some background. I don’t know much about basketball. I really only liked watching it when I was in college and I was surrounded by other belligerent college students. Go Bonnies!
Around 2008, I acquired an extreme bracket talent. No joke, I was ranked 30th out of all of Facebook at one point, with absolutely zero knowledge. Where is Davidson anyway? Fast forward a few years to 2011, I had just started my first adult job, filled out a bracket and stunned all my new coworkers. I won $180. The next year, REPEAT. Thanks, Kentucky. Everyone I worked with was scared of me. I’ll even add a few months later, I picked the winning Kentucky Derby horse, I’ll Have Another. I WILL Have Another, horse, on your dime.
This year I was riding high on my 9/9 correct picks the first day of games. I made some clutch decisions: Harvard over Cincinnati, Pitt over Colorado, etc. My boyfriend will vouch that I was stressed when we went out to dinner when one of the games was on. A few upsets didn’t hurt me THAT much. I was still afloat, much like this.
Then it all crumbled. I was like Jack into the ocean. Kansas, my champion pick, blew it against Stanford. I’m not sure what sound came out of my mouth at the buzzer but it was something like a roar and a screech. I punched my bedroom door. Thank God I was home alone. It didn’t stop there. Creighton lost. Villanova lost. Basically if a team was seeded between one and nine, they lost. Crying Kansas kid, I’m with ya.
So now I’m out $10, my blood pressure hasn’t returned to normal and I’ll be angry through the first week of April.