The NCAA Tournament is fun. The upsets, the fantastic finishes. One-and-done at its best. In my opinion it does no better job of pairing the two appropriate teams for the national title game than does the BCS system in college football. I actually think it does a worse job. But that isn’t the point, nor does it mean I think it is any less exciting because of that fact. What is the point today is that the lead-up to the actual tip-off of the first game of the NCAA Tournament is one of my very least favorite times of year. It is when every hyper college hoops fan with way too much time on their hands starts screaming to anyone who will listen that a 19-11 Virginia Tech team that was left out of the field is getting totally fucked in the ass with a sandpaper reach-around, while a 21-13 Washington State team doesn’t deserve to be there. It is by far one of the most frivolous, pointless, meaningless and utter wastes of fucking time that exists in the world. Who gives a flying fuck? Unless you are in charge of the yearly sports budget for the university who didn’t make it, then why do you care? Neither the team left out, nor the team who took their place, has a snowball’s chance in hell of winning the whole thing. Instead of crybabying around like a bunch of pussies, the “left outs” should just look in the mirror and say, “You know what Larry, we shoulda won another game or two and we wouldn’t be in this predicament”. “Yep Chuck, you nailed it. If we hadn’t stayed out late getting lap dances from Belorussian whores back in December and lost the next day to Shitbag Tech at the Holiday Tournament, we are in the field of 68. Lesson learned.”. But no, asshats are going to be shouting through the idiot box at hot heads watching from their living rooms about how the committee needs to be audited because Georgia Tech’s win over Drexel back in December should be weighted more heavily than Alabama’s win over UNLV in November. The time would be better spent masturbating to grainy 1970′s big bush porn. At least something happens at the end. Nobody “on the bubble”, whether in or out, could ever win anyway. Go argue the existence of dinosaurs with the Creationist wingnut who hangs out on the corner next to 7-11. You’ll get more satisfaction.
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