My Bracket's Broken!

Yes, I suppose it's only poetic justice that I, being a fair weather fan for my own teams, not having watched a single display of madness this year, and having turned down the law school whose team I picked to win it all; again, it's only poetic justice my bracket should fall short.

If I had won, what would have happened to the house of cards built upon male machismo?

What would have happened to the daily exchanges of, "My bracket could beat up your bracket in a fight!"?

No, it's only fair that I, who care so little about sports in general anymore should fall short while another, more avid enthusiast, should rise to the top of male glory and so enable the dream of sportsaholics everywhere to live on.

I also forgot to mention how a dark and dreary shadow would have set over my team at work, most likely forecasted with scowls, disbelief, and anger for up to two or three months, capped off with icy temperatures and mumblings of, "Sheer luck!"

So instead, I raise my glass to glassy-eyed men everywhere and proclaim, "You didn't win it all this year, but maybe next year if you watch 20 hours more than the 30 you put in this year, the tournament gods will smile upon you and your house with a $20 pay-out approval."

Until then, watch on, ye loyal sports enthusiasts!