Twistin By The Pool

My wife is not much of a sports fan.

Sure, she likes to bet the coin flip in the Super Bowl.

But she doesn’t know who is playing.

And yes, she loves going to the ballpark.

For the nachos.

But she couldn’t name five current NHL players if you gave her 50 guesses.

Then again, neither could I.

Ok, maybe five.

Several years ago we went to Shea Stadium to see a Mets game.

And she brought a book.

And she read it.

Really.

Well, it was the Mets.

My wife has never claimed to love sports.

But she’s not afraid to give her opinion.

Exhibit A -- the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

I can remember her telling me in the early 90‘s that the Bucs will NEVER win.

Not as long as their logo is a guy with a feather plume in his hat.

In 1997, the pathetic Buccaneers, one of the worst franchises in NFL history, changed that logo.

From the plume to a pirate.

A white pirate skull with two crossed swords.

Five years later the Buccaneers were Super Bowl Champions.

Coincidence?

I think not.

Let’s be honest, you are just not getting that type of analysis anywhere else.

Wednesday night was a big night in my house.

For my son and I.

This was the night we got to fill out our NCAA Tournament brackets.

We analyzed the games.

And picked the teams we expect to win.

Ten minutes later we were done.

Normally I only join one pool.

But this year is different.

I signed up for the one I always enter --- $25 for a chance to win three billion.

Plus I joined one for a local radio station --- if I win I get a year supply of Lite Beer.

And pool #3 is a fundraiser for my son’s baseball team.

I figured I could sign my wife up to do that one.

Hey, it's for the kids.

But those picks were going to be all her.

No help from me.

Not that I’m a lot of help.

So she sat down at the computer and started clicking on games.

I think it is fair to say that she knows nothing about college basketball.

Maybe more like, absolutely nothing.

But when it comes to making picks for March Madness, that might actually be an advantage.

For example.

I can tell you Vanderbilt has made it to the tourney in four of the last five years.

She can tell you Gloria Vanderbilt made a great pair of jeans.

For those reasons, we both have them winning their first game.

I can tell you Jimmer Fredette is one of the most exciting players in college basketball.

She can tell you a number of the parents in her first grade class are Mormon.

For those reasons, we both have BYU going to the Great Eight.

I picked Kansas State because I like their coach.

She picked Kansas State because Kansas is the first name of the school.

And she heard Kansas has a good team.

Now we didn’t agree on everything.

I picked Belmont, because they hit a lot of 3’s.

She picked Wisconsin, because they make great cheese.

When it got down to the tough picks, she asked the tough questions.

“Is this men or women?”

“They have field goals?  I thought that was football.”

“Are turnovers good or bad?”

Ok.

Now let’s be honest here.

Even though I follow the games.

And one could possibly think I know a wee bit more about this topic than she.

There is a zero percent chance I’m going to finish ahead of her.

That’s a fact.

Somehow we both ended up with the same exact Final Four.

Ohio State.

Kansas.

Duke.

Pittsburgh.

Maybe that’s because they are the four #1 seeds.

Or maybe.

Just maybe.

Great minds think alike.

But she struggled with picking Pitt.

“Isn’t that a football town?”, she asked.

Yes.

Yes it is.

Now when it came time to pick the tournament winner, we both took our time.

I eventually flipped a coin and took Kansas over Ohio State.

She broke down the stats and saw that the Jayhawks average more points, more assists, more rebounds and more steals than the Buckeyes.

Advantage Kansas.

After all that, we both ended up in the same exact place.

I guess the lesson here is it doesn't matter how you get there.

As long as you know who makes good jeans.

And good cheese.

March Badness

We are approaching the best time of the year.

Well, the best time of year to be a sports fan.

Ok, there are at least 35 “best times of the year” to be a sports fan.

But honestly, is there anything better than the NCAA College Basketball Tournament?

The Madness of March.

Well, nothing better in March.

And it is not just the basketball.

It’s the gambling.

Every March, most of us spend more time in a pool than Michael Phelps.

We pick like 500 games.

Played by schools we have barely heard of.

Played by players we have never heard of.

And we love every single tenth of a second of it.

Take last year.

Up until last March, my favorite Butler was Robert Guillaume.

But after last year’s tourney, how could you not love the Butler Bulldogs?

They put the OMG in Cinderella.

The same can't be said for my alma mater.

We have made the NCAA Tournament.

Twice.

And we have won.

Exactly never.

But for those forty minutes, actually eighty minutes, there was nothing better.

I’m not sure where basketball ranks on my list of favorite sports.

But in March, it’s #1.

I love the tournament.

I love the NBA.

And I certainly love watching my 12-year old son play.

It’s his team that is tough to watch.

We are one Amanda Whurlitzer away from being the Bad News Bears.

Or Bad News Bulls.

Ok, half of the kids are not so bad.

But half of our kids act like have never touched a ball before.

Never seen one either.

They play like they just fell out of the womb ten minutes before practice.

Sure this is “just” Rec League ball.

And winning is not the most important thing.

At least that’s what they want you to think.

But it is killing my son to be part of team that has more losses than Bernie Madoff’s rolodex.

One game was so bad, they made the scorekeeper turn the scoreboard off when we fell behind by 30 points.

With like five minutes left.

Really.

League rule.

Most teams don’t score 30 in a game.

And yet somehow we lost by more than 30.

....But wait, there’s more.

During a time-out of like game #5 or 6 this year, one of the kids asked the coach how many periods we were playing.

The coach responded with “seven-and-a-half.”

The boy thought that was cool.

And he also thought it was true too.

Late in another game, during a second half huddle, one of the boys said he had cramps.

And he wanted to know what to do.

One of his teammates responded, “eat more bananas.”

Makes sense.

I guess.

The coach told the boy “maybe you should come to practice more often.”

That made sense too.

During the two-month season, somehow we managed to win two games.

Back-to-back even.

During the middle of the season.

Now there are stretches where we look pretty darn good.

Those stretches usually last 4-to-5 seconds.

But if you watch closely, even that seems like an accident. 

I realize this will sound like the proud papa, but my son is definitely one of the better players on the team.

Now that’s not really saying much.

But we certainly believe that being “the star” on a bad team can still help his confidence.

But it doesn’t mean it will help his focus.

After one of our (many) losses, a few weeks ago. 

He notified me of a major foul he committed.

He wore his shorts backwards.

“No problem,” he reported.

“Did you know if you wear your shorts backwards and you get a wedgie, you can stick your hands in your pockets and get rid of the wedgie?”

Um.   No.

I did not know that.

I was hoping this season he would learn the 2-1-2 defense.

Or the pick and roll.

But hey, learning is learning.

Tomorrow is the playoffs.

And we qualified.

Thanks to those back-to-back wins, great attitude and amazing work ethic.

Oh and the fact that we paid the entry fee.

But either way, if we win, we advance to next week.

If we lose, the season is over.

Just like the big boys.