I needed West Virginia and Arizona to win last (Thursday) night. Neither of them did. Seems as though Gonzaga prevented the Mountaineers from hoisting a tying three-point try before the buzzer (even though on the radio it sounded like WV was just putzing around), and Xavier made its last bucket and then the Wildcats failed to make theirs.
The person running this behemoth bracket pool sent out another missive before the night's games. First of all, I guess I was in a tie for 21st coming in, and not 3xxx like I was before. Let me just say that even with Duke going down in Round 2, this guy's gadget thingy said I still had a chance to win the whole damn thing. Doesn't matter now, of course. I'm not going to be sniffing any money this year either.
Look, this is as good as I have ever been being right with the bracket. Going into Round 3, I nailed 13 of the Sweet Sixteen; previous the best I ever did was ten. Sure, I lost two of my Elite Eight, one of which was Duke, which I picked to lose in the championship game. But if the software still thought I could win the whole damn thing, well, I was doing something right, right?
Well, it all came crashing down on me Thursday. Even if I do finish with my best placement this year (and that's still up in the air), if you're not first, you're last. Every year I re-learn the lessons of the cruel mistress that is March Madness. Trying to gamble on her is a true road to perdition, one that, after I get battered to the floor and bloodied to near death, I forget the assault ever happened and come next year, I walk down it again, whistling a happy tune about good fortune. I remain so, so dumb.
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