March Madness, Indeed

I always wished that I had more people to talk sports with. Growing up in Dallas, the Mavericks were a perrenial bust up until I left. The Rangers to this day still won't go after a decent pitcher (preferring instead to adopt the old and woefully incorrect "St. Louis Rams" maxim that the best defense is, indeed, a monstrous offense), leading to their descent into perpetual losing and the accompanying mediocrity. The Cowboys won their Super Bowls, of course, but I was still in grade school at the time and was more concerned with how high I could swing on the gargantuan swingset or whether mom finally packed some kind of dessert for lunch that day.
The situation at BYU wasn't much different. Sure, I had a couple friends that kept up with sports like I did, but I didn't get to see them as often as I would have liked, and they were usually busy playing World of Warcraft anyway (what a terrible, horrible game, by the way). The disappointing thing was that we had a great football team, especially after we fired that moron Gary Crowton and put Bronco "The Savior" Mendenhall in his place. The men's volleyball, lacrosse, and rugby teams were almost annual title contenders, and our men's soccer team was so freaking good that it decided it was done with the childish world of NCAA soccer after winning six of the last ten NCAA championships, preferring instead to make the jump to the pros. The basketball team wasn't too shabby either, although as the last two years will ably show, they choke under the bright lights. You'd think, with all this, more people would be into sports in general. However, you would be mistaken. Most sports conversations I had with my fellow BYU-ites went as follows:

Me: "Hey, did you see the [instert team] game last night? [Insert star player here] went nuts on their [defense/offense], [talk about the long-term implications].
BYU-ite: "Um, I don't really follow [insert sport]. I prefer to go on themed group dates because I'm afraid of actual monogamous committment, and I spend the rest of my time acting pious and listening to church leaders tell me that I should get over my fear of actual monogamous committment and get married before I get too pent up and start fornicating. Want to go to devotional?"

So, after that long and quasi-pointless setup, I come to my main point. I finally live in a town where sports actually matter. Beantown is a great place for a sports nut, even if you hate the Red Sox, Celtics, or Patriots (unless you like the Yankees or the Giants, in which case it would be safer for you in Baghdad or Kosovo at this point). So March Madness finally rolled around and I'm pleased to report that it finally lived up to its name. I've made multiple brackets, all of which are failing miserably. I spent the four-day weekend watching a LOT of college basketball, eating unhealthy food, and playing a lot of Madden '08 with the guys in between games and debates about bracket methodology and horrible officiating. And did I mention the lack of sleep only makes things more fun? I mean, Friday at the Cask 'n Flagon was a riot on 4 hours of sleep, and I don't even drink like everyone else who was there. Plus I have a wicked funny cell phone video of one guy bodyslamming another while both were in a drunken frenzy of laughter. People are still laughing over that one.
In any event, the past weekend really exemplified why I love sports so much--it's not so much the game itself, as entertaining as it is. It's the bonding aspect of sports, that quality that brings people together and helps them create lasting memories and friendships.