The March Madness Diaries: Pt. 2

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From about the fourth grade to my last year in college, I would always begin the school year by declaring to myself: “this year will be different!”. On that first day of school, I would walk in to class with my head held high because I knew that this year would be the year that everything would fall into place; that a cruel world would show me its kind side and I would walk away victorious. I imagine this is what it must be like playing for the Georgetown basketball team for the past few years. Every one of these past couple or so years was supposed to be the one; Georgetown would be the dark horse team that finds itself, somehow inexplicably, on the cusp of glory. And on each of these years, they always come up short. I think the one thing that truly makes college basketball great is the fact that there is no real logic to it; there’s no formula that guarantees success or domination, hell even teams like Duke or Indiana or Kentucky have off years or years where they come up short more often than not. The rigorousness of a one-and-done tournament, much like life itself, teaches these kids the valuable lesson that life can be unfair to you no matter how much you think you deserve to win. And yet, on the flipside, this tournament teaches us that no matter ho small you are or how many write you off, you can rise to new heights an shake up the world. Tragedy and beauty, yin-yanging it in harmony. 

My bracket is meaningless now (it happens), and that’s ok. Now, I can fully pay my attention to these schools and stop pretending I care about programs like Indiana or Ohio State and enjoy watching LaSalle or Florida Gulf Coast act like kids in some kind if a store after pulling off big wins. And while yes to some extent it is kind of a bummer to watch teams like Gonzaga or Georgetown, whom I think are perfectly fine teams, buckle under the weight of their own pressure when it matters most, but that’s what makes any sport worth watching–the unassuredness of it all.

But I mean what do I really know, I’m just some guy who likes yelling at people to get a ball in a basket.

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