March Madness; Pick crazy

You're probably more likely to get struck by lightning then being able to pick the entire opening round of the NCAA Tournament. The odds, which this time of year are shaky at best, are thunderously, and factually 587,000 to 1, not in your favor.

So when filling out your bracket you shouldn't think like a college basketball expert; especially one that rattles off stats and RPIs like it's their job. Get in a bracket challenge with your mom and you'll soon find out that it is nothing more than a crap shoot. 

Roll the dice because there is no way your going to make a ripple if you don't get a little crazy. It is called "March Madness" for a insanely good reason.

No pick is safe. Doubt the most obvious. Stare in the mirror, shave half your face and then reconsider that #5 versus #12 matchup again. 

Everyone thinks Kentucky or Syracuse is going to win it. They are number one seeds, they are supposed to win it and prove all the "experts" right. But that would just mean there are a million experts in this country. Don't go with the flow, because that flow is stale.

Turn off the television. Sit in the dark. Eat nothing but Cheetos for whole week. Then pick the tournament.

You'll either look like a genius or you'll be a thorn in your English teacher's side with the amount of "coulda", "woulda", "shoulda"s you say. Either way you'll have to sit in the corner of the classroom with the dunce cap on. You're singled out for being the person that made that pick, with no regrets, and either they hate you for being right or laugh at you for being wrong.

Race hamsters. Change your name. Draw on an Anthony Davis unibrow with a crayon. But remember there are 5,608,500 brackets on ESPN (2011 numbers) lightning should strike at least once, right?


(Ha! That was a trick... Doubt everything!)

THIS ISN'T SO HARD

ESPN’s March Madness guru Joe Lunardi teaches a class at St. Johns University called (and I couldn’t make this up) Bracketology 101. All the protégés learn the ways of ‘The Bracket’ in hope of one day beating their receptionists in the $4 buy-in office pool. (While they will base their selections on FG% and PPG, their receptionists make them with colors, mascots and point guard handsomeness in mind; yet it’s usually a pretty even matchup.)

But this year, even without the receptionist to brag to, I sit atop the mountain of sports geek’s brackets in the 99.9^th percentile on ESPN.com.

Have I figured out the secret code to college basketball? Am I the next Schwab? Can Dr. Pure continue to pull these names out of a hat only to gain untold amounts of pride? Or will I fall from grace? Will my bracket dismantle much like my little cousins at a Chucky Cheese birthday party (especially Elizabeth)?

Oh, you’ll never know.