March Madness

My bracket stinks.


I should tell you that I know nothing about basketball. I never, ever watch it unless I go to somebody's kid's high school game. So the state of my bracket should come as no surprise.


A few years ago, I was presented with an empty bracket by the man I would later marry. I didn't know what to make of it. "I don't know anything about basketball," I pleaded. "Just guess," he said. "Everybody just guesses." That year my bracket stank (stunk?), too. And the year after that. But one bright and shining March, I think it was 2007, I won. The whole thing. I defeated all the friends, relatives and coworkers who actually knew what was going on. Some of them even studied for this! And they were beaten by a girl and her dumb, random luck. It was a lovely thing.


In the last two years I have come close, top four or five, but I haven't won again. Statistically, I have had my lifetime share of big dumb luck moments. So unless I actually learn something about this sport, and probably even if I do, I will never win again. But I will fill out that stupid bracket every year. I had a little taste of victory and I liked it. You just never know.