Nic Narrates

I’m dragging ass today. Another sufferer of DST-lag. But that hasn’t kept me from prepping my brackets for the better part of the afternoon.

Normally, I’d be poking fun at the sports fanatics, rolling my eyes and such. But this sport and this time of year, well, you see, it’s like… Christmastime.

It’s a time of festive face paints and shiny multi-colored confetti and blaring fight songs played by brassy bands in uniform, sung by colossal choirs of fans. It’s a time for mystical things like “drawing the foul” and “quickness” and “swing men” (no, not that kind).

And it all happens in a magical, coveted “dance,” wherein sweaty, hairless-chested boys cry and spank each other’s butts and sometimes lie in the middle of the court and cry some more (thank you for the memories, Adam Morrison).

Oh yeah, and they play basketball. Lots and lots of glorious basketball. Which is best enjoyed with a Guinness (or two or six), at a bar, with pizza or wings or both.

It’s the time of year when you learn of exotic far off places called Wright State and Oral Roberts, Creighton and Xavier. When you make new friends like Winthrop and Memphis and groan when you see crotchety old Krzyzewski and his crew back in town.

It’s a time when a strange sense of camaraderie is afoot. When co-workers who haven’t spoken to you for a year come out of their cubicle caves, rubbing their eyes, and smiling as you talk smack about how kickass your bracket is over everyone else’s in the office pool.

Suddenly, there are lunch plans for cramming in every possible second of game time action. There’s a score-update relay system set into place to skirt the I.T. ban on ESPN’s live Internet coverage. And there are those sagacious souls who vacation this Thursday and Friday to partake of said basketball, beer, pizza, and wings.

Madness? Nah…

Filed under: "work", creative time management, the Madness by Nic