COLUMN: March's madness begins

One of the strangest events, yet most beautiful to the eyes of sports fans, gets under way this week.

And as a dedicated public servant I feel it is my duty to offer some helpful hints when it comes to viewing the crazy sports notion known as March Madness.

Now, before we delve into the matter further, some clarification is needed.

March Madness does not really mean you should, or will, spend the entire month of March being peeved. It’s not that kind of madness. Well … maybe a bit.

There are some things you are about to face that may well tilt you in the general direction of anger, but that’s why I’m here, to help out my fellow sports nuts.

First on the list of potentially maddening things is the office “pool”, a label that may start some on the way to madness when they realize it’s not a pool in the typical sense of the word, but it is a place where the untrained may find themselves splashing around helplessly, watching those dollars swim away because you, my friend, did not make educated picks on who would win afore-mentioned “pool”.

I say this knowing from experience that the very act of entering the office pool can evoke the first signs of “madness”. And usually it is the result of rookies getting lucky with their picks, while you, the “real fan” actually studied player rosters, statistics, injury reports and head-to-head match-ups while the lady from the lab made her choices based on which of the two cities involved in the list of games she would rather visit.

Or, my personal favorite, “I chose Darkhorse State because their school colors matched what I was wearing that day”.

Madness I tell you. Especially when that way of “thinking” produces a winning result.

To help overcome such setbacks, let’s examine some ways to offset and “fuhget bout it”.

I’ve found, through careful listening to those who are far more experienced than I am at holding March Madness viewing parties, that adult beverages, most specifically copious amounts of beer, can calm the nerves and restore focus on the 68-team tournament at hand.

We all know beer makes one smarter. It did, after all, make Bud-wiser.

And after tip-off for the often tipsy fans, snack food is mandatory. A good host or hostess will make sure there is a wide variety of munchies available, at least that’s what was really important in the 70s.

I’ve found that one of the most important snacks is Cracker Jack. First off, it is a sweet and salt treat, and if your team is getting kicked around on the big screen, you can steer the conversation toward the correct name for this carmel covered popcorn treat.

Is it Cracker Jack, or as so many say, Cracker Jacks? Discuss.

And of course, there’s always time to ponder the decline in the so-called surprise inside each box of Cracker Jack(s), which is rarely found in boxes any more, having been switched to a cellophane bag. There are no more magic de-coder rings, or small plastic spiders.

“Prizes” these days are all some kind of dumb ass paper rub-on tattoo thing.

Mad yet?

Next, be sure to sit within ear shot of the guy (or gal) who talks real loud and knows everything there is to know about basketball, which usually turns out to be not much.

These folks need lots of beer and the party is best served if they are sent to buy more.

The tournament itself wears on for most of the month, often spilling into the first part of April. That in itself is sometimes a “conversation” starter.

Along the way you will encounter the Sweet 16, the Elite Eight and the coveted Final Four.

And like the overwhelming percentage of fans, none of the teams you picked to make the Final Four out of the original 68 entered in the tournament, will be left on the board.

To that end, avoid picking teams like Gonzaga, which I’m sure is a Latin phrase for “we gonna breaka you hearta in the end”, or the “Cinderalla” team with big dreams (let her sleep).

In the end, a champion will be crowned, that “One Shining Moment” song will play and confetti will rain down from the rafters of whatever sports palace hosts the championship game.

Some will be deliriously happy, while most will be left mumbling in the corner of the room.

Maddening, eh?

And it is March.