Day 8: Bracket Update

Two for two today. Three out of four Final Four teams correctly picked. However, I won't be correctly picking the Florida/UCLA winner. I hold out hope that Ohio State can win it all and help me to get my $5 back.

Bonus Update: I very much enjoyed the interview tonight on ESPN with Warren Buffett, who was sitting courtside at the Cavs-Nuggets game. Apparently, he has been known to give LeBron James investment advice. However, the best part of the interview (which I cannot show you because I don't have a Tivo and don't have the necessary skills to get TV stills onto the Web) was that Buffett was wearing one of those Witness T-shirts. I know I'll never be as rich as Buffett, but I hope that when I'm 76, I can still be that cool.

Day 7: Bracket Update: The Other Shoe Drops

I went one for two today, but Kansas was supposed to get to the final game and lose to Ohio State. As a result, my bracket is irreparably harmed. If the Buckeyes do end up winning it all (and today's performance gives me more confidence that it is at least possible, rather than how I felt, say, after the Xavier and Tennessee games) I might have a chance to recoup my five dollars. But I didn't expect to, so I'm not too concerned.
Sometime soon I will return you to your regularly scheduled blogging.

Day 6: Bracket Update

Who has time to tell you about his bracket? I do. I was three for four again last night. And, oh yea, go Ohio State.
P.S. I'm enjoying the new links on Wray blog. It's good to know what Keith is reading.

Day 5: Bracket Update

Three out of four correctly picked to the Elite Eight so far. Ohio State, my eventual champion, again escaped by the skin on the skin on their teeth. I don't think that sort of nonsense can continue. We'll see, I guess.

Day 4: Bracket Update

Five out of eight again today, so only 10 of the Sweet Sixteen correctly predicted. I had both Wisconsin and Lousville getting to regional finals, and obviously that isn't going to happen now.
Things haven't completely degraded yet, but there is still time. Plenty of it.

Bonus Actual Life Update: Bought a new pair of shoes today, as well as some groceries and Neon Bible. All seem to be pretty good on first use. I like the usual Arcade Fire songs I always like on the new disc, but I really enjoyed Ocean of Noise on the first listening. We'll see what repeated spins deliver.

Day 3: Bracket Update

5 of 8 winners from Saturday correctly predicted. I lost one team I had going to the regional final and nearly lost my pick to win the whole thing. As Ohio State was (apparently) going down in flames, I went so far as to sit at this keyboard and write a dirge to my seemingly deceased bracket. However, I never got a chance to post it.
Even so, I'm sure my bracket will soon be dead, even if it narrowly escaped defeat once. Trust me, things will end badly.

Day 2: Bracket Update

28 of 32 first-round winners chosen correctly. 14 of the Sweet 16 still alive.
That would seem good. However, it will go south, likely starting Saturday. I know this.

Day 1: Bracket Update

14 out of 16 correct.
However, those two that lost were both supposed to go to the Sweet 16. George Washington got hammered, despite my belief in them. And Duke lost, despite the fact that I picked them to pull the "upset" as the better seed.
I always start out well with my picks and then crash and burn stupendously, so don't be fooled by the decent beginning. It will end horribly. And I will lose $5.
Let me know how you are doing with your picks in the comments. If you dare.

$5 that could have been used to help someone...

Will instead be thrown away on Ye Olde College Peach Basket Bracket. I always lose at these things and for the last few years I have been trying without success to not fill one out. I could save the money and still enjoy the games just as much. After all, I am not a gambler. But for some reason, I still want to fill one out.

I also considered filling out a bracket and just not handing it in. Then I could still see how poorly I did and relish the fact that I didn't throw away my money to Celia in accounting who doesn't know a screen roll from a screen door. But then of course my fear was that I would actually do well with the bracket (the lack of pressure of money on the line clearing my mind to allow me to not fall prey to everybody telling me mid-major X is a sleeper) and then not get the money I so richly deserve.

But this year, I was almost sure I could avoid filling out a bracket. There seem to be far too many good teams to pick the one that will win six in a row. But then when someone put a bracket in front of my nose and a $5 buyin, I crumbled like a junkie in a dirty alley. Now, the bracket is in my possession. But I've been unable to bring myself to fill it out because I can't even decide whether to take Duke or VCU in the opening round. Like a junior high boy who can't ring his crush's doorbell, I stand there agog as I try to decide whether to jump on board with a sexy upset pick against a squad that is basically an evil corporation in gym shorts. And I don't have a much better idea on picking any of the other 62 games.

I shouldn't, but on Thursday morning I'll be racing (trying to beat the new Daylight Savings Time world I exist in where I'm now in Pacific Time!) to fill out the bracket and hand it in. Texas will probably go farther than it should because I've been pulled into Durant's tractor beam. I'll think back fondly at the sight of Mike Conley Sr. bounding down the triple jump and landing with a thud in the sand while taking Ohio State to go farther than they should on the back of "Great Oden's Beard!".

And then there's Kansas and North Carolina. And we haven't even mentioned UCLA or Florida or Texas A&M or Wisconsin. Or Memphis or Louisville, or hell, even Creighton. Despite what Adidas says, Impossible is Something. And that is what halts me from my bracket. I know I can't do it and it's meaningless and I'll lose my money.

And it is at this point that good writers have some pithy comment that explains why despite all presented evidence, they are still going to do what they know they shouldn't do. Something like: "But I will fill in those teams, all the way to the Final Four. You know why? Because maybe this is the year for my One Shining Moment." It's something like that, but much better and more interesting. But I don't have anything succinct to explain why I have to do it. I just have to.

At least until everybody jumps on board with my NBA playoffs bracket challenge. See you in May!

Read it and weep

As I move nearer to a career change (I guess since I'm still in my 20s it's just "shifting gears") I read a book that was a fitting way to close the chapter (to fully stretch the literary metaphor) on my time in journalism. That book is The Secret Man by Bob Woodward. It came out a few years ago (probably about six Woodward books ago, he's like Stephen King with anonymous sources), but I'm finally getting around to it.
The reason it is fitting is that All The President's Men, which I probably read in 10th grade, made me want to become a journalist. Reading about Woodward and Bernstein digging up the truth about Watergate was a formative experience for me, even though I couldn't have picked Ehrlichmann, Dean or Haldeman out of a lineup. Obviously, ATPM made thousands of kids want to be reporters and some found success and others found failure.

I've found my share of both. I wish I had the abilities that Woodward and Bernstein have, but I never quite found my way in journalism. Maybe someday I still can. I just want to try something different that will challenge me and see how that works out. I've wandered far afield already, so let me get back to The Secret Man, which is Woodward's telling of his relationship and work with Deep Throat. Mark Felt, the number two man at the FBI, was Deep Throat, although no one could say definitively until Felt said so himself. What is so frustrating about TSM is that Woodward waited so long to contact Felt (the reporter was afraid the source was mad at him for perceived mistakes, which to some degree was true) that Felt had full-on dementia by the time the two spoke again. As a result, Felt couldn't explain why he helped Woodward, why he leaked information about the Nixon White House, why he took such risks to ensure the truth came out. To most people, that's the story -- the fact that Deep Throat was Felt is fun to know after so much parlor discussion, but everyone always knew it was someone. The real intrigue was why.

But this was no movie. It was real life. Sometimes you don't get answers. Sometimes you wait so long to act that you can't find out the answers you wanted. It's frustrating as a reader, but you can tell that Woodward was probably just as frustrated.
And I guess that is why TSM represents my journalism career. There isn't always a perfect ending. Sometimes, you just have to move on and try to make the best of what you have. Woodward moved on to his eleven other ongoing projects and continued to take baths in money. I'll try to succeed in a different arena and not dwell on the question of why certain things didn't happen. I don't try to be profound on this blog because I don't have the skills for it. But here's my "semi-pro found" statement: What's interesting is why, but what is important is what. What you do and what you make of your life has more bearing for yourself and others than why you do what you do. I'm changing directions - that is WHAT I am doing. I hope I can look back later, like Felt and Woodward did and feel like I did the right thing -- whether I can remember why or not.

Makin' it rain

Not in the PacMan or Fat Joe sense, but rather in the wedding shower sense. Kat and I received a plethora of gifts and were not terrorized after we kept them.

Lots of friends came, including some from hours away. We didn't think we had that kind of pull, but the chance to visit Yuma in March is hard to turn down.

Here are some photos - with captions - of the glorious event.



Carrot cake!



Dog visitors! Lucy the gentle bulldog puppy and Dakota the full-grown and destructive labrador share a tender moment at the shower. Yes, this event drew so many people and pets that there were two dogs named Lucy.



The kiss! (as Bill Raftery would say)



Baggo! A guest brought his best frat house lawn fraternity game for the enjoyment of those in attendance. Here, Benny shows fine form as Jeremy looks on. Eric and I played and were beaten worse than Cumberland was by Georgia Tech in 1916. We were not members of fraternities if that were not already immensely obvious.



Sweet vase! The V Team and Jeremy and Andrea gave this to the Z Team. It's nice.



Savvy! Kat holding baby Savannah, who is a very good baby. She liked sleeping in Kat's arms, but apparently she doesn't sleep. At all. Ever. At least according to her mother, Roxanne.