March Madness is for men... women do not get it
Colin Maguire
Issue date: 2/28/08 Section: Opinion
Right about now the lovely females of Kenyon College are being reminded, again, of why guys are from Mars. Two words: March Madness, a.k.a the greatest time of the year. The "Madness" of the 2008 Men's NCAA Tournament does not actually refer to the games, but rather to male behavior from the Ides of March to early April. But why? Why do my mental sanity and physical well-being depend on the outcome of Old Dominion versus Butler? (Some of you are saying "who?", but I could give you Butler's tourney history in interpretive-dance form, if necessary.) Why do I spend months monitoring the status of conferences like the Horizon League and the Northeast Conference-which apparently has two schools named St. Francis?
I could tell you that it was all about the magic of the tournament, and that would be partially true. Like last year, when I watched six-foot-on his tip toes-Michigan State guard Drew Nietzel put up 26 points in a loss against heavy favorite North Carolina. As the game ended and he stumbled off the court, a teary Nietzel vowed his team would be back the next year. Some years ago, I almost cried watching No. 15 seed Hampton beat No. 2 seed Iowa State. Why? Because those big, tough meatheads you like to make fun of were weeping like babies. One team ached from the monumental failure; the other, from knowing they had won the impossible challenge.
Undoubtedly, such stories are numerous and beautiful, and they are certainly why the players play. But why do millions of people, the vast majority male, log onto ESPN.com's NCAA Tournament Challenge for the $10,000 grand prize, and why are homes and work places inundated with 8 ½ x 11 printable brackets? This was best described by ESPN radio's Mike and Mike in the Morning show. They call the brackets "Sheets of Integrity." In today's world of political correctness, sensitivity training and Grey's Anatomy, it is nice to know that this last vestige of pure truth and righteousness exists. You are right, or you are wrong. You rule or you suck. It is your manly-though many women do participate in the Challenge-duty to have your knowledge and pride on the line. The rather large 65-team field means that you cannot simply guess your way to the top; you have to earn it! You must painstakingly monitor games to prove your aptitude.
I could tell you that it was all about the magic of the tournament, and that would be partially true. Like last year, when I watched six-foot-on his tip toes-Michigan State guard Drew Nietzel put up 26 points in a loss against heavy favorite North Carolina. As the game ended and he stumbled off the court, a teary Nietzel vowed his team would be back the next year. Some years ago, I almost cried watching No. 15 seed Hampton beat No. 2 seed Iowa State. Why? Because those big, tough meatheads you like to make fun of were weeping like babies. One team ached from the monumental failure; the other, from knowing they had won the impossible challenge.
Undoubtedly, such stories are numerous and beautiful, and they are certainly why the players play. But why do millions of people, the vast majority male, log onto ESPN.com's NCAA Tournament Challenge for the $10,000 grand prize, and why are homes and work places inundated with 8 ½ x 11 printable brackets? This was best described by ESPN radio's Mike and Mike in the Morning show. They call the brackets "Sheets of Integrity." In today's world of political correctness, sensitivity training and Grey's Anatomy, it is nice to know that this last vestige of pure truth and righteousness exists. You are right, or you are wrong. You rule or you suck. It is your manly-though many women do participate in the Challenge-duty to have your knowledge and pride on the line. The rather large 65-team field means that you cannot simply guess your way to the top; you have to earn it! You must painstakingly monitor games to prove your aptitude.
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