Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Beware the Ides of March Madness

“To invest absolutely everything in something that means absolutely nothing,” was a phrase I heard on ESPN Radio a while back. That is an accurate way to describe sports. Sports fans understand that it really doesn’t matter who wins the Super Bowl, the World Series, or the NCAA tournament. At least intellectually they do. This does not stop them from painting their bodies and wearing shorts to a Packers game in January. I don’t care how much cheese you eat, brass monkeys are putting on long johns in Wisconsin during the playoffs, Well Diggers Local #327 has special posterior polar fleece allowances in their contracts for this time of year, and Witches have…well, you get the idea…
A general sports fan watches the games for the competition and the athleticism. The fanatics make a particular team their most important emotional investment. When their team is playing they ignore spouses, kids, chores, nuclear threats, and half-naked swimsuit models, unless it is during a commercial. It reaches religious proportions. The gospel according to Vince Lombardi is quoted. The commandments of Coach K are espoused. The Curse of the Red Sox was exorcised with more prayer than Max von Sydow threw at Linda Blair. The trials and tribulations of a Chicago Cubs fan make Job look like a slacker. Okay, I overstate a bit, but that is what sports fans are: over the top.
There is a single question I can ask to see if you are a true sports fan. Do you own a small radio with a single earphone that you can inconspicuously wear on your body? If the answer is yes I am willing to bet that at some time you used this ingenious device to listen to the game at a family event. Most of us can get away with this for a while. The problem arises when it is a close game. Screaming “Alright, baby!” and leaping into the aisle to do a happy dance when your guy buries a three-pointer at the buzzer is frowned upon by most folks at the wedding. Except the father of the bride, who cannot believe his daughter scheduled her wedding in March, dancing there beside you.
The NCAA Tournament has started up and it is a huge thing these days. Car companies design sales around them. The words “March Madness” are used more often than the words “That is not what we meant when we said stay in touch with your constituents, Governor Spitzer” were said in New York recently. There are scientific studies proving the overall productivity of offices drops dramatically the Monday after the brackets are announced because the office pools take precedence over selling stocks, designing software, and even staying in touch with your constituents (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
I have to admit I truly love this event. Where else can a person hear names like Luc Richard Mbah a Moute, Nikita Mescheriakov, Alexis Wangmene, and Longar Longar without having a United Nations security clearance? Where else will perfect strangers hug each other like reunited brothers returning from battle just because a guy with an overactive pituitary gland was able to shove a rubber spheroid through an iron ring (with authority). Where else can you hear professional broadcasters say things like: “He has been absolutely dominant at both ends.” or “The tip is controlled by the Trojans.”?
I am a Kansas Jayhawk fan and have been for quite a while. This means I have experienced the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. I know exactly where I was sitting as I watched Danny Manning get his 18th rebound as the clock went to triple zeros against the Oklahoma Sooners and win the championship in 1988. Also, I couldn’t sleep when Jacque, Jerod, Paul, Scot, and Raef got beat by Arizona in 1997. My wife and I still gauge the level of disappointment for anything which happens in our lives against that night.

Me: Well, honey, I didn’t get that promotion at work.
My Wife: Gee, I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted that job.
Me: I feel really horrible. I don’t know what I’m gonna do now.
My Wife: We may have to sell the car with gas prices being what they are.
Me: I know. That raise would have made a huge difference in our lives.
My Wife: Does this feel worse than when KU lost in ’97?
Me: Oh, no…no, no, no…heck no!

Christopher Pyle considers Bucknell a dirty word, and will not wear, or allow his wife to wear, any clothing bearing a Jayhawk image during gameday because of his belief that it jinxes the team. He can be reached at occasionallykeen@yahoo.com, but not until Monday.

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