I don't particularly like basketball. I like sports, mind you, just not basketball. So, it's with the most curious passion that drives me to have great interest in this annual event in collegiate athletics called March Madness. I enjoy pondering my picks for an intricate matrix for the sole purpose of legal sports gambling. There's a strange romantic element to it, questions swim in my head as I look at this pool of 64 teams. Where is Gonzaga, anyway? What exactly is a Hoya?

The games on the afternoon of Sunday the March 18 gave me quite the adrenaline rush, never yet experienced by myself through all these years of being a mere March Madness spectator. I watched our Temple Owls manhandle Florida, with much glee. I also cheered and screamed for Penn State to oust those pesky North Carolina Tar Heels.

Sunday night left me dazed and confused. I am an alumni of Penn State and a current Temple student. What to do? Thoughts of Joe Paterno, the Nittany Lion and picturesque Happy Valley can warm my heart and bring a tear to my eye, like any proud alum. But, John Chaney, Hooter the Owl and the streets of Philadelphia are a part of my present life now.

I'll wake up next Saturday morning after this big showdown, just glad that it's all over. I'll swear my allegiance to the winner of that game until the end of the madness. Until then, I'll put up with my ferociously proud Penn State alumni fiancé, who is wishing for Temple's demise and be proud of both teams, because a little part of each of them belongs to me.