By Melissa Mc
My bracket is incomplete; I’m clueless about the teams, the seeds or their opponents. I don’t even know where the Final Four is this year. Check my pulse or give me some medicine — something must be gravely wrong with me that the refrain of the CBS Sports music doesn’t cause me to do a jig in the middle of my living room floor.
My malaise may be driven by the fact that my alma mater sucked — a #2 seed last year, they fell into the abyss of basketball mediocrity. My husband’s made it as a #7 seed and he is seriously gloating.
I can also attribute it to the fact that I will be in a mini-van with my family traveling half way across the country for spring break during the majority of the tournament. I’m trading brackets and buzzer beaters for Colonial Williamsburg and The U. S. Capitol. I suppose it is a far better tradeoff than neglecting my kids for three consecutive weekends.
But since I can’t cheer for my home team – I will be rooting for the Kansas Jayhawks. Because “Rock Chalk Jay-Hawk” is the best chant in college sports, even though I don’t have a clue what it means.
It’s still March Madness, baby, even if I’m a little less “mad” about it this year.
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