Beware the Ides of March

I'm pleased to report that I've survived over two full months as a reformed non-sportsfan. And as I've mentioned ad nauseum in previous posts, it hasn't been nearly as painful as I expected. Missing the Super Bowl still sticks in my craw a little (okay, a lot) but otherwise it's been a relatively seamless transition.

Till now. It's March. And even though my beloved Cal Bears have nearly finished yet another dreadful season I'm still eagerly anticipating the upcoming NCAA Tournament. In a couple of weeks the field will be set and the pooling will begin.

What to do, what to do?

Though it may not be obvious, I possess the soul of a perfectionist. I don't know why - no one in my family has ever exhibited perfectionist tendencies. But I've been this way my whole life. As a small child it was particularly acute. It took me forever to get my school work finished because every number and letter had to be perfectly formed. I couldn't function without an eraser nearby. About the only explanation I've ever been able to come up with is that perfectionism is a fundamental trait of my astrological sign, Virgo. Maybe that stuff is really true.

The point is that the perfectionist in me wants to finish what I started. No cheating. No lapses. Just a full year without sports. Simple. Clean. Unambiguous.

But my inner sportsfan couldn't care less about perfection. He's just bouncing off the walls waiting for the Tournament to start.

The NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament is by far my favorite postseason event in all of sports, and I believe it always will be. It's special for several reasons. First and foremost, no other major sporting event reliably produces the quantity of upsets and surprises that the Tournament delivers. David slays Goliath every year. Multiple times. Two years ago tiny George Mason made the Final Four. There is no equivalent accomplishment in any other major college or professional sport; only the NCAA Tournament is sufficiently egalitarian to allow the little guys to compete with the heavyweights. It's actually become a cliche - sports pundits and journalists regularly ask who will wear this year's glass slipper.

Second, almost everyone I know, even if they haven't watched a single minute of college basketball all year, takes a few minutes out of their busy lives to fill out a bracket and join the same pool that we've all been in for over ten years now. It's great fun. Bragging rights are on the line, and everyone is out to prove they know what's really happening in college basketball. So far it's never been me; I suppose one of these years I'm bound to win the grand prize....

And on a related note, being in a pool makes everything a little more intense. Few experiences in sports are more nerve wracking than watching your Final Four pick struggle in the first round of the Tournament. (Unfortunately for me, losing a Final Four pick on Day #1 has become an annual event but it never gets any easier to stomach.) Conversely, nothing is more satisfying than correctly predicting a major upset - especially if it's under the experts' radar.

So I'm torn. I have to say that I'm leaning strongly at this point toward joining a pool and also letting myself watch a few games. But the perfectionist in me hasn't given up. It's a classic Freudian battle - my id wants to watch the games but my superego is trying to keep me disciplined.

We'll see what happens....