Madness – Candy Hatcher

Let the madness begin

The Virginian-Pilot (Norfolk, VA.) March 16, 2012

CANDY HATCHER

I LOVE this time of year. I love the daffodils and cherry blossoms, the osprey’s return, the ability to sit outside in the sun.

Spring means renewal. It brings hope. And it comes with passion, camaraderie and silliness, courtesy of March Madness.

I am a college basketball fan from way back, cemented in 1974 when, as a teenager, I watched N.C. State beat UCLA in double overtime in the NCAA semifinals.

I lived 15 minutes from NCSU. As my brothers and I made our way to the campus that afternoon amid honking horns, streaming toilet paper and throngs of fans, we celebrated a team that wouldn’t give up, a talented group with big hearts and big dreams, now fulfilled.

The excitement that team brought to my home and my community 38 years ago is still fresh in the minds of all who witnessed it.

And it reminds me every March that somewhere, some team – perhaps Norfolk State this year? – is making memories for others that will last a lifetime.

March Madness – a 3½-week frenzy of college basketball – isn’t just for basketball fans. Millions of people who don’t know zone from man-to-man fill out brackets, choosing teams they’ve never heard of to beat perennial winners. They pick brackets by winning records and coaching histories, team colors and mascots, by whether teams are from blue states or red states.

And then, they keep track of those teams on paper, on TV, through video streams to computers and phones, for bragging rights and, in many cases, money.

My family and friends have been part of this madness for years. We fill out brackets not for money but for the banter. As the NCAA tournament progresses, the winner in the early rounds may be at the bottom by the Elite Eight.

One year, I was in ESPN’s top 1 percent for a weekend but in the bottom third by the championship. Another year my mom made her picks based on the bracket of her local sports writer. She won our bracket challenge, but she’s never lived it down.

My mutt, Georgie, picks dogs to win and cats to lose. Last year, she did quite well thanks to her Butler Bulldogs’ making it to the championship round. This year, with Kentucky’s Wildcats favored, her hopes aren’t high.

It’s not all silliness. As we watch these games, we learn something about the schools behind the teams. The first time I heard the name Gonzaga, for example, I had no idea it was a small Jesuit university in eastern Washington state now known for its basketball.

Over a burger at the sports pub, I’ve met strangers rooting for the same team I’m pulling for, and we’ve spent time laughing and commiserating.

Everyone, not just Georgie, loves underdogs. Those of us who fill out brackets for fun pick at least one 12th seed to upset No. 5. We pull for Cinderella teams, cheering last year’s run by Virginia Commonwealth. We hope against hope that a No. 15 seed (go NSU Spartans!) can make it past No. 2.

In this month, Yankees fans can find common ground, even if just for a moment, with the Red Sox.

In this month, I can join my Republican family and friends, my vegetarian niece, my gun-loving nephew, my husband, our dog and my brother’s cat – along with faraway friends of various religious and political persuasions – for a bit of stress relief.

We will put aside diviseness. We will forget unemployment and frustrating job searches, the rising price of gas and still-falling housing values. With brackets in hand, we will be full of hope, ready for the laughter and teasing and bragging rights that come with the madness.

Bring it on.