March Madness

I'm missing the sports gene. Nothing could interest me less than plopping down on the couch for 36 holes of golf, or 2 halves of basketball, or however many innings they play in baseball. NASCAR? It's WWE wrasslin on wheels to me.

I do peruse the front page of the sports section so I can hold my own in cocktail conversation that may turn to sports (but I do need to move to someone else after two sentences.)

March Madness is upon us, and I can't think of another sporting event (it lasts HOW LONG?) that permeates all levels of society, especially in the workplace. "Have you made your picks?" "Do you want in on this pool?" "You put them in the final four?"

The cost to employers in lost productivity could exceed $1.2 billion over the course of the 19-day event, as they circulate pool entries, speculate around the water cooler, and watch games on-demand online. Lord knows how much will be wagered around the world.

Not to be a party pooper, I usually submit my entry fee and willy-nilly selected brackets, only to check back after round one to find out I'm dead last. One year I was beat by a housecat.

A couple of years ago, I tried a new strategy, mascots. Could a Badger beat a Razorback? How about a Blue Devil? My system provided better results than in the past! One time I used the numeric value of the letters in the team's nickname, the higher the better: A = 1, B = 2, C=3 etc BADGERS = 56. Not very accurate.

Rob Amen of the Pittsburg Trib has some other creative choice systems, including:

Graduation rates: Every year, Richard Lapchick of the University of Central Florida compiles the graduation rates of teams competing in the tournament. The schools with the worst rates? Pick 'em.

Party on: Texas tops the Princeton Review's list of best party schools. The Longhorns know how to celebrate, which means they must win a lot. Other notables: WVU, Wisconsin, Florida, Indiana, Arizona and Maryland.

The Big Dance: Wisconsin, Illinois, Iowa and BYU all have solid dance programs. Coincidence? Not likely.

Considering this is LipsYard, I should take the state flower of each team and figure out a way for them to compete. Too much work, and flowers don't fight much.

Perhaps with Greendale's Police chief on a gambling crackdown (remember the small prize bingo bust?) I should just skip the NCAA this year.