The viral nature of madness, at least the March men’s basketball version, has exploded into a nonsensical pandemic.
The ingredient of identity politics, non-withstanding the “politics” within the phrase inflict the nation with an infection of overbearing confusion and Liberal propagated guilt.
While Americans diligently fill out their annual and required NCAA basketball brackets, another alphabet agency is attacking of sensibility as the ACLU is set to implement a public awareness/indoctrination campaign where the most offensive tournament predictions by fans will be featured in a gestapo lineup, and the lives of ten residents will be marred forever by the backdrop and insinuation of social pariahs. Former Washington head football coach and current television analyst Rick Neuheisel wants his $20 bracket buy-in money back if only reverse-exchanged for a $3 million buyback. (Neuheisel was ultimately fired from his coaching position at Washington on accusations of gambling based on his participation in an NCAA tournament office pool. Through the decision of the court, he ultimately won a significant settlement).
As the Ides of March are characterized by the springing the clocks forward for daylight savings and the anticipation of competition, the legions of fandom brace for year two of previously amateur players being compensated for their athletic talents in the style and relative paygrade of professionals.
Scholarships are allegedly not enough compensation anymore for players to remain loyal to an academic institution for a measly two years. Four years, forget about it.
With the transformation of student athletes into “minor league” professionals, including the Phoebe Cate’s phenomenon of women’s swim teams receiving lumps of currency from swimsuit manufacturers for modeling the latest beach fashion trends, the basic fundamentals of college sports have been reconfigured by large sums of money and commitment to an athletic program that does not extend beyond the all-mighty dollar. How much (cash) do you got?
Screenshot of the legendary Phoebe Cate’s scene from Fast Times at Ridgemont High
While the current ecosystem of athletic departments adheres to budgeting rather than regulating or even delegating, the ramifications on the level of quality of play are yet to be defined as ambiguity and overall confusion dominate the new formula of the student athlete experience. As the general algorithm of possible dismay does not factor in the competitive spirit of an individual, the future of earned achievement is at stake in the locust swarm of blanket-laden panic rooms, juice boxes laced with Adderall and exquisitely crafted shimmering participation trophies crammed into bookshelves.
Within this ecosystem of instability, the advice to the casual NCAA men’s basketball fan is to use discretion when filling out the bracket (pick numbers or favorite animals) and mentally prepared to be underwhelmed by a listless and apathetic environment designed by radicalized societal engineers attempting to eradicate the essence of humanity for political gain.
Chaos has entered the theater in the subtlety of a tidal wave from stage left, yet hope remains that this diabolical experiment of lucrative entitlement soon ends and a collective return to regularly scheduled programming or broadcasts ensues.
