In 1996, I attended the NCAA Big East Conference final between Ray Allen’s University of Connecticut Huskies and Allen Iverson’s Georgetown Hoyas. The event, which was won by a Ray Allen buzzer beater, was more then just a basketball game, it was a spectacle. Sitting in the Huskies section in a sold out Madison Square Gardens, the deafening roar of the UConn fans began after Connecticut’s first bucket and didn’t let up until the final horn sounded.
The die-hard fans are just one of the many reasons that I strongly believe that March Madness is pound for pound the best North American sporting event, period. Let me elaborate.
On Thursday March 18, 2004, 64 teams-some traditional powerhouses (Duke, Kentucky) others not so traditional (Vermont, Monmouth), some Ivy League (Princeton), others military (Air Force), some religious (Brigham Young, Vanderbilt) others religiously partying (Florida, Texas), some urban campuses (Manhattan) others mountainous (Utah), some representing the East (Western Michigan) others representing the West (Eastern Washington)-all entered with the same hope that great play and even greater luck will allow them to advance and be the last man standing in this gut-wrenching one-game elimination tournament.
This leads me to point number one-the format. Unlike the NHL Playoffs (do you really want to see hockey in June?) March Madness eliminates half its participants in a 48-hour span. Now that is good time management. One game, not a best-of-five or a best-of-seven, but one single game. For the fan, that leaves no time for the excitement to let up (you should read this Super Bowl organizers), and adds the enticing prospect of being glued to your couch for an entire four days, with no time to even blink, with games televised from noon until midnight. And for the players there is no room for error, with every shot on every possession being paramount. Think of it this way-every game is a game seven.
Point number two-the Cinderella story. Every year without fail, the tournament produces a team or two that will scratch and claw their way to an upset victory in a game they had no business winning. Take for instance the University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB.) With a student population under 17,000, UAB is better known for its renowned health care complex than playing basketball. But last Sunday night, when they faced the University of Kentucky Wildcats-the number one seed in the tournament and second all-time in NCAA championships-we should have known better.
UAB upset Kentucky 76-75 to advance beyond the second round for the first time in its history. The clock finally struck midnight for UAB when they were overmatched and easily beaten by the Kansas Jayhawks, but for five days the city of Birmingham and fans of the underdog across North America had something to cheer about.
Point number three-the players. If you really want to begin to comprehend the magnitude of a school playing in the tournament, take a look at the 12th man on every team. The 12th man is the last guy to come off the bench, which really means he will see zero playing time all tournament long. Most of the time he can be recognized as the short white guy at the end of the bench. But once the madness begins, he becomes a little kid in a candy a store: constant jumping up and down every time his team scores, high-fiving and chest-bumping anyone in sight, being the first one to congratulate or console the star player. For the 12th man, March Madness is what he lives for.
And then there are players who were stars in college but will probably never get the chance to play professionally. University of Texas’ senior guard Brandon Mouton was considered one of the better players in this year’s tournament, but after his team’s last-minute loss, he was seen crying because he knew this was his swan song. March Madness helps you put into perspective that there are athletes that play for more than just the next paycheck. Emotions are left on the floor, with one team feeling unrivalled bliss, and 63 others waiting for next year.
