Burnside's Take on the Madness

It's the Monday after selection Sunday, and I am already sick of all the amateur predictions floating around. Go ahead, get out your magnifying glasses and study the numbers, but let's be honest, your grandmother who picks teams based on her favorite color is probably more likely to take home the cash than you are. There's a reason it's called March Madness; you think you got it all figured out, then all the sudden, your final four team gets knocked out in round one (major salt). I just can't stand all the overpaid T's (enter Jay Bilas, among others) who give you their unwanted, not to mention typically faulty, opinion on how to fill out your bracket. Don't get me wrong, brackets are legit. I typically take a quick glance at the history books and go by my gut for the rest of my picks (ie Muskies snippin nets in Indy), but March Madness is about a lot more than this.

What do I think when I hear the words March Madness? Well first off, I think of the trumpets from off in the distance, tooting the oh so familiar CBS jingle. The heart rate is already on the rise, until I view a little One Shining Moment. I nearly cry myself into submission as I envision Crawdaddy and the boys hoisting the hardware in T-minus 3 weeks. Then I hear the golden tones of Bill "Onions" Raftery, and Gus "pyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyurrrrrrrrre" Johnson. Chills is an understatement, this is getting out of hand. Then I tune into some action, and notice a 5'10" white guy knockin down 30 footers en route to taking down the big boys. I proceed to hurry to my backyard, throw up a couple fade away air balls, realize the slipper doesn't fit, and head on in to catch some more action. I see the Muskies takin care of business as usual, getting to the sweet 16 and beyond. I then begin channel surfing for some UC Bearkittens action, only to discover the CBI is only broadcast in 3rd world countries. Fianlly, wake up the next morning with Charles Barkley telling me, "it wasn't a dream, it really happened" (Space Jam, anyone?).

I've said it once, and I'll say it again: it's the most wonderful time of the year. That's enough commentary from me for one day...now back to unveiling some presents. Burnside, GONE.