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There's something about March Madness (the NCAA men's basketball championship, for those of you who are sports-impaired) ... something about the long-standing rivalries, about the 15th-seeded minnows knocking off the 2nd-seeded powerhouses in the first round, about the laboring over making picks for whatever pool you enter (reading loads upon loads of projections but always picking teams based on some strange karmic appeal), about the games on television for four days straight, about the delight of being able to root for your alma mater. Maybe the nation's infatuation with March Madness is derived from the fact that it is the largest non-professional sports event in the country, free of the ego and corruption that are devastating the pro leagues. Or maybe it's the nostalgia induced by watching those players (the vast majority of them) for whom this represents the close of their athletic career, remembering the last swim meet/baseball game/tennis match we played before moving on to "adult" pursuits. Or maybe, especially this year, it's all these things combined to distract ourselves from the depressing and frightening state of affairs in the world. Whatever the reason, it's March! Go Bears!
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