The odds are against us, and I know that. But I will admit, every year when I fill out my NCAA bracket, I hope it is my year. I think it is my year. I believe it is my year. After all, who hasn’t been afflicted by the Gambler’s Fallacy at least once in their lives? For nearly twenty-five years (give or take a few), I have printed out or grabbed a black and white tournament bracket from the photocopied stack in the faculty room; and with hope and a prayer, I pore over the possibilities that will lead me to victory, to the top of a pool of hopefuls.
No, I do not predict game outcomes based on any real knowledge, as time to actually watch much regular season play or develop any informed opinions eludes me annually. Not that “informed opinions” would help, anyway. Rather, a belief that my blind selection process will, this year, produce a winning combination always seems to spark a scintillating and seductive hope. One of these years, it is going to be me, I just know it. But truth be told, this is a bit like turning off all the lights in an enormous room, throwing a marble, and believing I can walk straight to it. Yeah, really not much chance there.
As the kids filed into school yesterday, I saw Mike. Mike is our man who generously collects brackets and maintains a running score of everyone’s college basketball divinations. Dressed in his typical sweat suit and sneakers, I noticed him standing in the hallway near my office, further from the gymnasium than I typically see him. Now’s my chance to glean an update, I thought. “Hey Mike,” I said, eyebrows raised, hope glinting in my eyes, “how am I looking in the tournament pool?” Mike turned his head to face me, smiled, and just shook his head. My heart sunk. I swallowed. “Am I . . . at the bottom?” I asked. Mike headed toward the nurse’s office. Over his shoulder, he said, “No. But close.”
Next year will be my year.
I’m going to make it to that marble if Villanova wins, or at least be close and maybe recover my five bucks! Last year I was second from the bottom which is the WORST place to be. LOVE the conversation you captured at the end of your post, Lanny. So funny!
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This year has been a series of “Oh, no”s for lots of March Madness followers. Who’d a thunk it? While I was reading this, I thought you were going to say that this WAS your year, because of all of the upsets. Keep hoping! Root for our home town team Villanova on Saturday.
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Nearly same conversation but my man is Steve.
🙂
And I am a little bit higher (through luck more than research) in my bracket. Go Nova!
Kevin
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I know nothing about March Madness, but I enjoy the buzz of excitement it creates amongst teachers and students. A common ground to reach some of them. Way to stay positive, maybe next year will be your year.
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Every year my daughter who HATES most organized sports always has the best bracket in our family. My husband and son put time into their selections, I just went with what Barack Obama picked this year. My daughter is coming out on top again this year. Go figure!
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Given the upsets I imagine it’s blind luck to be at the top.
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