Every year, it starts the same way. Selection Sunday rolls around, and you get your first look at the clean, empty bracket. You close your eyes and just do your best impression of the Oracle from The Matrix and predict which teams will prove to be victorious. We're all hopeful and are more than confident showing our bracket to everyone we know repeatedly telling yourself that this is your year.
And then, the games actually start. One by one, you see your Cinderella picks get blown out. You see your eventual champion struggle to get to the Sweet 16. All of a sudden, your investment in college basketball is the most important thing to you. You actually care about Pittsburgh basketball.
But that's the fun of it all, isn't it? You make your ballsy picks and you're a genius if you're right. I, on the other hand, am not a bracket wiz. For the second year in the past four years, I picked the Pitt Panthers to win it all. Why you ask? I have no idea. I'm not a Pitt fan, but gosh darn it the Panthers are going to win a championship one of these years! I had a decent bracket going into the Sweet 16, but as always, I failed. Thanks Kansas, Memphis and Pitt. Ironic since my only correct pick in the Final Four came from my beloved Tar Heels, who I refused to pick as a champion because of bias and the fact that I was bold enough to pick Pitt in December.
With all this heartache, however, I know I'm not alone. There are you guys out there with Louisville, Memphis and maybe even Syracuse in a spot they didn't even come close to filling. But hey, it's called March Madness for a reason. You can't predict the future, no matter how sure you are before the first tip. And for those of you that have a near-perfect bracket, brag and brag again. You deserve it. But be nice about it, it hurts for those of us whose careers as fortune tellers are kaput.
