Editor’s note: After my recent expressed ignorance of sports and March Madness, Jeff Pollard suggested I reprint a piece he submitted a year ago. Here’s Jeff!
Here we are again, into that time of the year which joins die-hards, casuals and even some of the “don’t give a darn” folks into FANatics of March Madness, the month that quickly brings us to deciding the college basketball national champion.
Who’s on the bubble? Who will get left out of the big tourney but belongs there? Who will be in but shouldn’t? Who’ll get the number one seed in each region and will the NCAA load up my team’s region with the strongest teams?
By the end of the month, hundreds of thousands of fans will be disappointed, thousands will say “my team got screwed” and a few thousand will be bragging “We’re No.1” while pointing one finger into the sky, the finger next to the one they use the other 11 months.
I’ll watch and cheer, but my happiness won’t depend on the outcome.
You see, it’s getting close to the end of winter, the time best suited for chili soup and bean soup, onions and cornbread. So March is the month I pile it on. Chili or Great Northern beans several days a week.
And, oh, the magnificent result.
You’ve seen the drawing of three guys sitting in the theater. The two on the ends have frowns and the one in the middle has the big, evil smile. The caption under it reads: Guess who farted.
Yep, that’s me in the middle.
During the month of March it is me in the middle almost every day.
This is the month you may see me standing over there by the green beans in the supermarket, chuckling at the people’s faces as they approach the meat case and as they walk into the cloud of fragrance I left there.
No matter the outcome of the final four, I’ll be able to smile wide.
Think I’m kidding? Pull my finger!