To be a sports fan in mid-March is a pretty great thing. Now one might argue that early September is the best—college football is finding its footing, the NFL season is finally, mercifully underway, and desperate MLB teams are vying for a playoff berth—but it’s hard to argue with the wonderment of March.
In March, your favorite NFL team is signing an offensive lineman you’ve never heard of and heading into the draft with “some really great ideas!” Baseball is so close that you can almost feel the soft, gelatinous belly of the man behind you pressing into your lower back as you wait in line for Buck Night hotdogs. And college basketball? Well, duh. It’s almost as if some sort of “madness” descends upon the whole sport, turning everyone around you—for a few weeks, anyway—into a rabid college hoops fan.
But here’s one thing I could do without in March: hearing about your fucking bracket.
Now don’t get me wrong. I love filling out a tournament bracket. I love pretending to know what I’m talking about when I analyze the competitors and decide that “Davidson’s defense is just too porous this year to make any real noise”, or, “Northern Iowa sure has a lot of black dudes for a section of the country that, well, really isn’t known for having a lot of black dudes.” I love the added interest that a bracket provides. Aren’t most sports inherently more fun when you’ve got a vested reason to watch? I mean, isn’t this why gambling is so goddamned popular?
All of that being said, I don’t give a sweaty hippo’s Doritos Locos Tacos-induced shit about your bracket.
I don’t care how cute it is that your grandmother filled one out, or that your wife did one out based solely off uniform colors or mascots. (LOL! Adorable!)
The president’s bracket can suck my cock.
Unless your bracket makes me money—and frankly, I don’t see how it can—I don’t want to hear about it. You blathering on about your picks is ALMOST as interesting as hearing your thoughts on the weather (“BRRRR. SURE IS COLD FOR MARCH, DON’T YOU THINK?”) or a topic that I find as equally detestable: your fantasy football team. Because unless we’re in a fantasy football league together—and we’re not, because I don’t play, because I’d rather be kicked repeatedly in the shins—I don’t want to hear about THAT, either.
OMG, HOW UNLUCKY IS IT THAT JEFF GARCIA PUT UP 45 POINTS FOR YOU, BUT IT WAS ON THE SAME WEEK THAT YOUR OPPONENT HAD VAI SIKAHEMA WHO PUT UP A GREATER AMOUNT OF POINTS? HOW WILL YOU SLEEP TONIGHT? DID YOU YELL AT YOUR KIDS WITH MISDIRECTED ANGER, BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE I MIGHT HAVE.
Your bracket is absolutely boring. I don’t care if it got “busted” in the first round when Pig Rape State scored a massive upset over Gonzaga. It’s really, truly, not worth sharing. Let’s keep the water-cooler talk focused on the important topics: that Tuesday night last week where you got black-out drunk, saw an episode of The New Adventures of Old Christine and confused it with Seinfeld, which was really weird because you’ve seen every episode of Seinfeld ever. Or maybe you can tell me about boils that you’re considering having lanced. I’d rather hear anything else, really.
And I know that there are those who will read this, and feel like I’m overreacting. “Why don’t you just not listen to people when they talk about their bracket?” they’ll ask, or “hey Brandon, how about you just shut right the fuck up, already?” and those are all very appropriate, very valid responses. But the thing is, it’s pervasive. I can’t log-on to my Myspace without hearing about it. I can’t get my nails done without hearing sweet Lin’s thoughts on Duke’s perimeter shortcomings. My grandfather is texting me—from the grave, mind you—to tell me why he picked an early ouster of KU.
It’s everywhere, and I can’t stand it.
Stop ruining what should really be an awesome couple of weeks, please.
I beg of you.
To hear ALL about MY bracket—j/k—follow me on Twitter @StanfordWhistle
Everybody in my face wanting me to join their bracket is beginning to feel like a boil on my butt. To each their own I guess, but I am like Lefty leave me alone.
So let me tell you about my granddaughers, eh?
Sure go ahead.
You people dont want to talk about youre brackets because you are afraid too put your money where your mouth is…losers and cowards…mine were 95 percent right last year an will be this year….come on cowards….lets see youre picks…lets see what youve got if your not to scared….go too vegas an bet on them like a reel man.
I like this.
Perry Ellis is going to average 15 points per game and KU is going all the way.
Not everyone is a gambling degenerate like you Craig. Who never posts any factual evidence to back his loser mouth about his betting, so who is the real coward shooting off his mouth?
We’ll see who the coward is Stupid Coward Dave….falls count anywhere no disqualification match in the school playground tomorow nite at 7:30…i will bring everybody I no to watch me put a roid/coke fueled beating on you….then you will have to tell me how great I am and that you wish you were the man i am.
Awesome!
I’m there. And I’m buying everyone a beer.
Yeah, nobody likes Bracket Guy. But everyone loves talking about how much they hate bracket guy. Trust me, I’ve been doing this exact same tired shtick for about a decade.
Sorry Mr. Rome, I don’t listen to you. My mistake for stealing your bit.
At least you don’t have to worry about him kicking your ass, he is all of 4’9″ tall
Greg……pick the play
ground, I will call
all
My friends from the
N.E., manny
my cuzin and ill help ewe
beat SuperStupidDaves
ass…….well
I won’t beat him but Ill
hold a KC STAR with tadays date and take
a pitcher of it so everywon nos
it’s fer real.
I love you Greg……ewe
can
count on me. I’ve got yer back.
Specially that ass, mmmmmmm
Thank you for being the one guy on hear who is reel
Thank you, Greg. I am reel. I’m reel good, reel good, reel smart reel right and the reel Hardley. And I’m reel serious about that azz of yours. Ewe bee reel fine and I live four the day you few me again. Love u
Stand in line. Evrybody wants me…I am the most famass and loved guy in the hole city.
But Greg, it’s me, Hardly, I’m your favurite. I’ve stood up four ewe against all the haturs! Please don’t treat me like won of yore bimbos! I have a jurnalisum digree from MU, I’m know won to bee trifled with. I warsh you’re corvette, shine your shoes, write your posts for tony….and I knead ewe.
Please be a little more discreet Hardlinator…Crack Barbie gets really jellous of my other bitches and can get reaaly mean…i wouldnt turn my back if i was you.