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Post by dehayes35 on Mar 3, 2009 23:17:43 GMT -5
WHAT ARE THE SYMPTOMS OF MARCH MADNESS?
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Post by rainman on Mar 4, 2009 8:13:13 GMT -5
(from last year):
Symptoms of being a victim of March Madness
Oakland Tribune , Mar 20, 2008
THAT DISEASE called "March Madness" is spreading. It attacks all aspects of your lifestyle and sports fanaticism. In honor of the NCAA tourney's upcoming first-round winners, here are the 32 most recognizable symptoms as described in our medical journals:
No. 32: You organize an office pool before realizing all your co- workers have been laid off.
No. 31: You trade three of your brackets for one filled out by A's general manager Billy Beane.
No. 30: You say St.Mary's, others say Mount Saint Mary's. You say Bloody Mary, everyone says John Daly.
No. 29: You cut down the nets -- to the dismay of your fellow ClubSport members.
No. 28: In honor of Jerry Tarkanian, you chew on a hand towel whenever watching UNLV play.
No. 27: You can't help yourself from picking Stanford to advance past the second round (a strategy that's failed in seven of the Cardinal's past eight NCAA appearances).
No. 26: You tell your paperboy to abandon the new Barry Zito windup and deliver your paper with a simple sky hook.
No. 25: You bet old No.25, Barry Bonds, blames the feds for keeping his former college, Arizona State, out of the tourney.
No. 24: You fax a blank copy of your NCAA office pool to Rick Neuheisel at UCLA.
No. 22: You e-mail the sports editor, asking what happened to symptom No.23.
No. 21: When you confess your sins to your priest, you admit to picking Temple over Michigan State.
No. 20: When you tuck the kids in at night, you read them the scores of all the NCAA games.
No. 19: You call in sick to work, explaining that you have an appointment with Dr. Dick Vitale.
No. 18: You're convinced that Coppin is a state because you saw it play in the NCAAs.
No. 17: You write just illegibly enough that no one can tell whether you picked Duke or Drake as your West region Final Four pick.
No. 16: You name your cat: "Krzyzewskitty."
No. 15: You pick the Memphis Tigers to win it all, figuring they're distant relatives of Tiger Woods.
No. 14: You think Memphis is the answer to every question. (That's the answer here.)
No. 13: You name your fantasy baseball team the "Cinderfellas."
No. 12: You blame the "hanging chads" from past brackets for not predicting Florida's back-to-back championships.
No. 11: You text message Paris Hilton: "Who'll have a simpler life: Georgetown or Kansas?"
No. 10: You wish federal prosecutors made another typo so that the Cal men's team could sneak into the NCAA tourney instead of the NIT.
No. 9: You brazenly invite a New York City call girl -- known as "No. 9" -- into your office pool.
No. 8: You put pink shoelaces in your sneakers because it reminds you of Cal's Ashley Walker.
No. 7: You crave candy apples, curiously only when watching Stanford's Candice Wiggins and Jayne Appel.
No. 6: You throw a chair at your TV whenever you see Bob Knight on ESPN.
No. 5: You throw a chair into your TV when Knight's national- title pick, Pittsburgh, loses in the second round.
No. 5: You watch reruns of "Too Close for Comfort" just to see which college sweat shirt Ted Knight is wearing so you can fill out your bracket accordingly.
No. 4: You advise your son when he enters college to major in bracketology.
No. 3: You go back to college to take "PHIL-108: Philosophy and Star Trek," an actual class at Georgetown.
No. 2: You really want to see your beloved St. Mary's Gaels, so you cough up the $397 in gas to drive 1,956 miles to Little Rock, Ark. Now, if only you had $397 to make the trip home (or to Houston for the Sweet 16).
No. 1. You realize that your best "Final Four" are the beers left in your garage fridge after your bracket bombs by midday Friday.
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