March Madness Bracket Superstar!

Based on my sports knowledge, I have an announcement:

When it comes to March Madness Brackets, I am a superstar.

Now, those of you who know me somewhat are probably saying, “Wow, I didn’t realize Sean was such a sports genius.”

Those of you who know me well (and are in my bracket competition) are probably saying, “Wow, I didn’t know Sean started smoking the wacky weed.”

Little do you know. (About me and sports, not the wacky stuff.)

As March Madness has settled on its Sweet Sixteen, I have correctly chosen 9 teams. Some of you may think, “9 out of 16 is okay, but not superstar worthy.”

Allow me then to explain.

My brother Greg was a college basketball coach. I spent several of my vacations at his house – mostly in the basement eating junk food and watching movies.

But every now and then, I would be a tad too slow when he would ask, “What should we watch next?” And before I could get “The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension” out, he would say, “Why don’t we switch things up and watch a basketball game?”

Watching with Greg in those days wasn’t as simple as watching a game. Every play was freeze framed, discussed, rewound, re- watched in slow motion, then re-watched backwards in slow motion, all while Greg would make smudgy circles on the screen with his finger, explaining, “You see how he plants his foot here while pivoting this direction – his eyes go this way but the ball moves around this way, here, let me rewind it so you can see it again…”

To this day if you ask me how long a game of basketball lasts, I will tell you “Six and one half hours.”

But I did get a lot out of those sessions. For example, my inner imaginative life and daydreaming skills were honed to perfection, proven by the fact that not once did I actually die of boredom.

However, much to Greg’s chagrin, I did not retain much basketball knowledge.

So while Bob, Michelle and Reid (my March Madness competitors) might sit at the kitchen table looking at their bracket and say, “Murray State. They’ve got shooters, but do you think they have the bench to go deep?” – I will sit at the kitchen table looking at my bracket and say, “Murray State? Since when was there a state named Murray? Honey, where’s the state of Murray – is it that lumpy shaped one near Wisconsin?”

“But wait,” I hear you say (as I have good ears), “Aren’t you arguing that you are not a March Madness Superstar?”

Ah, but what you are not taking into account is my knowledge of sports (plural), not just basketball (singular).

For this we must move on to baseball, that sport where one hits a ball with a bat. (“But Sean,” I hear you say, “Isn’t that cricket?” To which I respond, “Stop interrupting me! This blog is too long as it is.”)

In baseball, the quality of a hitter is determined by a stat known as “batting average” – based on the percentage of hits over the number of times at bat, then said in terms of hundreds instead of percentage points to make it sound cooler.

For example, some all time leaders in the sport include Ty Cobb – batting .366; Ted Williams at .344; Babe Ruth – the Sultan of Swat – at .342.

These are the superstars, the very best at the game, the high water mark setters. I’m not even going to talk about the mere pikers like Joe Dimaggio (.325) or Barry Bonds (a measly .298).

Now back to me.

Got right 9 out of 16 – that’s  .562; I’m batting over five hundred! I’m a superstar!

Eat them apples, Ty Cobb!

Just saying,



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