Of Family and Madness

The madness of March is upon us.  I am not referring to the weather that is typically unpredictable as winter and spring battle it out for supremacy . . . which is usually won by spring in the end.  No, this madness comes in the shape of a basketball.  It is the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s (NCAA) annual tournament for determining a national champion for men and women’s teams.  It is in its 87^th year for the men, and even though women started playing the game two years after the men started, their tournament is only in its 44^th year.  Whatever the case, the “madness” is upon us. 

The primary focus of March Madness is in choosing a “bracket”.  A bracket is a road map of the tournament from the first game to the championship game.  In filling out the bracket an individual must pick the winner of each game in each round as the tournament progresses.  The individual chooses the bracket prior to the start of the tournament.  There are five rounds leading up to the championship.  The goal is not only to pick the champion but to also correctly pick the most winners as the games are played.  The festivities begin with 64 teams until they are whittled down to the final between two teams leading to the champion.  There are 63 games in all in which anything and everything can happen.

 

In all honesty my participation has come and gone throughout the years.  Some years I have participated with groups from work, but most years I have not.  Typically, like most human beings, I like to be in control.  In March Madness there is no control . . . lots of chaos. Surprises around every corner.  Because of this I did not participate in most years.  I can be a poor loser.  If teams are not going to do what I need them to do to win . . . well, forget it!  That was then and this is now.  I’m all in . . . win or lose.  The “madness” is there.

 

Why the change of heart?

 

It began when the oldest child once again invited anyone and everyone, he knew to join the bracket he had set up last year.  Anyone and everyone included family. That’s when the idea popped into my mind—a family bracket!  I encouraged all the family to pick a bracket to see who had the most basketball savvy and knowledge to pick the winner . . . also to have bragging rights for a year.  The one who is left standing at the end would win the grand prize trophy.  The one who brought up the rear in last place would get the “nice try” trophy.  In the first year nine out of 14 participated.  It was a blast as our youngest son stormed from the back of the pack to win it all.  Our son-in-law circled around before flushing his way to last place.

 

This year, from the youngest to oldest family members, 12 out of the 14 family members are participating.  Halfway through the bracket madness it has been a roller coaster ride seeing the lead bounce back and forth between a small group.  It has been a blast . . . but remember, this is March Madness and it is still anyone’s game to win.

 

Right now, I am sitting in the middle of the pack.  A rookie—our grandson—is sitting at the top.  Sports are not his “thing” at this point in his life, yet he is leading.  It’s crazy.  It comes with the luck of the draw and picks.  Picking is the key . . . with a whole bunch of luck.  I’m not sure how he picked his bracket.  I know some people pick their bracket by the schools’ mascots.  Others pick them by the school colors.  Some follow the season, analyze the statistics, and pick their bracket that way.  There are those who go by hunches and hearsay.  Darts are thrown by some to pick their brackets.  The hope for divine intervention is often used.  Some spend hours mulling their choices, others merely.  Now with technology like artificial intelligence (AI) some just ask their computer to fill out the bracket.  It’s crazy!  That is a part of the madness of March.

 

I spend between 15 and 30 minutes picking my bracket.  I don’t analyze.  I don’t study stats.  I don’t have darts to throw.  Mascots aren’t important to me.  Team colors—nah!  I just go on a hunch.  I gave up on God’s intervention years ago.  I think it had something to do with me picking against Norte Dame one year.  Obviously, whatever I am doing is not working.  I didn’t win last year, and I am probably closer to the bottom of the bracket than the top this year.  I will probably finish in the middle of the pack again when the dust settles.  I will be well off the podium this year.  I am tempted to use AI to pick a bracket, but that seems like cheating despite how quick and easy it would be. Still, I wonder how my elementary school grandson with no basketball knowledge can be in first place.  The squirt is showing me (and everyone else at this point) up! 

 

The greatest fun though is in the “smack talk” and competition.  Who would have thought that the children were going to be the biggest smack talkers?  They throw the dirt like experts . . . stand toe-to-toe with the adults.  It has been impressive watching how well they spar with their parents, aunties, and uncles.  So far Nana and Papa have avoided being the target of smack.  I guess we need to pick better brackets.  The smack and teasing have been impressive . . . funny and entertaining.  It has been an eye-opener for all as all the generations are learning the slang, terms, and put downs from each other.  They are becoming multi-generational smack talkers.  It is all fair game when it comes to March Madness.

 

The family is in the thick of March Madness.  The competition is tough and constantly changing.  The push for family supremacy and bragging rights for the year is up for grabs.  Smack is being talked.  Laughter abounds.  Together we are all in it.  That is what makes it special. We are a family and we play together.  And in the end, no matter who wins or loses, we are still family enjoying one another.  My hope is that we are building a family tradition that is passed down through the generations (as will be the passing of the trophies) years after I am gone.  Yes, this is March Madness . . . when family comes together for a little fun.  In the meantime, I have got to figure out a better method for picking a bracket and learning how to talk smack if I really want to win this thing.  Or I can do what I have been doing and bask in the fellowship and love that is family.  Either way I am a winner.

 

 

Glory Days

Glory days well they'll pass you by

Glory days in the wink of a young girl's eye

Glory days, glory days

The Boss kind of interrupted my morning meditation to the job at the university in the big city as I was driving through the darkness of a Montana winter . . . he was singing one of my favorite songs . . . Glory Days.  Shame on the Boss for throwing me back . . . back to another time, another place . . . of a time long gone.  If you have never heard the song by Bruce Springsteen, Glory Days . . . you should listen to it . . . especially if you are over the age of forty.  It is a song about a guy in his mid-thirties who keeps running into people from his past while in the present . . . a present which encompasses work, family, and the reality of attempting to make it in a world that does not care one iota about the past . . . and, in meeting up with these people from his past he reminisces about their “glory days”.  Days back when they were the stars and heroes . . . the studs . . . of the world in which they were young.  It is a conflict between what was hoped for in the future and what really is.  It is one of the coolest songs . . . and, one of the saddest songs.  One of the saddest songs because we all realize that he is us . . . we all have “glory days”.

As much as I enjoy the song, I am not sure I appreciate the Boss making me drop into a melancholy funk.  Hey!  You cannot listen to the song and not get thrown back into what once was and what you now have.  What the Boss sings about, we all know.  Trust me . . . I know.

The older I get, the better I was.

I am a legend in my own mind.

You get the picture.  The older we get, the better the stories get . . . especially as those who remember them are dying off and can no longer contradict.  Now, trust me, I was no slouch when it came to sporting milestones in my life . . . I lettered in high school in three different sports . . . I lettered in college (how many of you studs out there did that?) . . . I was quite successful after college running . . . I have the letters and trophies to prove it.  But, it is amazing at how much faster I ran in my memory than reality states . . . reality doesn’t get it!  It is amazing how much faster those times have become over nearly forty years . . . shoot, I once kicked a winning field goal in a raging blizzard (the only problem is I quit playing football after my freshman year in high school and was never a kicker).  In my mind, the legend grows!

What was and what is . . . are rarely the same years later.  There are moments in my life when I wonder . . . what if?  What if I had taken working hard at running . . . what would have been?  What if I had done this instead of that . . . what would have been?  The problem is . . . I didn’t . . . and, now, I will never know.  Cue it in . . . Glory Days.

Yeah, hindsight is twenty/twenty.  I cannot change yesterday and I do not know what tomorrow holds.  Lots of life has come and gone . . . there has been joy and there has been sadness . . . I have laughed, I have cried . . . and, this is where I am.  It is not too exciting, but not always boring . . . sometimes an adventure, sometimes a pain.  This is life, and for the most part, it is good.  I really do think that I am where I need to be . . . but, from time to time, I reminiscence . . .

Now I think I'm going down to the well tonight

and I'm going to drink till I get my fill

And I hope when I get old I don't sit around thinking about it

but I probably will

Yeah, just sitting back trying to recapture

a little of the glory of, well time slips away

and leaves you with nothing mister but

boring stories of glory days

We all do it . . . male or female . . . young or old . . . we remember the “glory days”.  As Bruce sang in the darkness of my drive I was thrown back . . . to a simpler time . . . an easier time . . . a time of “what if”.  For a moment, a mere moment, I wondered . . . what if?  Then it hits me . . . life ain’t so bad.  I have a woman who loves me . . . children who love me . . . friends who care about me . . . two dogs that greet and fawn all over me when I get home . . . satisfying jobs . . . a beautiful place to live . . . and, I am pretty happy where I am at.  Those “glory days” were wonderful and make me smile, but they compare nothing to what I have now.  The older I get, the better I was . . . I am a legend in my own mind.  God doesn’t seem to care . . . the loved ones don’t care.  Maybe, just maybe, these are the “glory days”.