Brackets officially busted

This was not the year to play it safe.

Being ultra-conservative won’t get you far in any sport, but so much more the case when trying to predict the outcomes of a single-elimination gauntlet that can just as easily end in teary-eyed piccolo players as it can in a national title.

I filled out a bracket for two reasons this year — bragging rights at Christmas when I see my entire family gathered in one place and a good pick in my fantasy football draft this fall with the rest of my Statesman sports buddies.

But there will be no bragging rights. There will be no good draft pick. There will only be smack-talk, mockery and foolishly taking Jimmy Graham in the first round (again).

Because, like many of you reading this, my bracket is completely destroyed.

“Busted” doesn’t even begin to approach the level of descriptiveness needed to fully convey the sorry state of my bracket. It’s thrashed. It hurts to even look at. It has me legitimately worried about running out of sharpie.

From the first batch of games you could tell the tournament was going to be insanity. Most brackets had already lost a pair of Sweet 16 teams before lunch on Thursday, as both Baylor and Iowa State managed to lose first round games. It was a day of unprecedented amounts of upsets, one-point losses and perhaps the first game-winning goal-tended 3-pointer in the history of basketball.

But at least at that point there was still hope.

Friday went according to plan, no need to light the bracket on fire and watch it burn into 10,000 charred embers just yet. Friday, flat-out boring compared to the tournament’s opening day, gave you the feeling that there may yet be order to all things college basketball.

Friday freaking lied. College basketball makes no sense.

Down went Kansas, looking nothing short of lethargic against an interstate opponent that outplayed and out-hustled them every minute of the game. Wichita State played a great game, so it was hard to be upset with the turnout even if it put my bracket in a precarious position.

Then came the dagger.

Villanova, one of the only teams to win convincingly in the first round, took a dive and lost to NC State. That was the type of crushing blow you don’t recover from. NC State leveled my bracket like Kam Chancellor levels 49er tight ends. It was crippling. It had me wondering if it were even mathematically possible to beat my older brothers anymore or even my 3-year-old nephew — it’s not, by the way.

I guess that’s what makes the tournament so great and terrible. It makes you dig out your Ole Miss gear from your time in Oxford to will them to victory over BYU. You find yourself a fan of the Dayton Flyers as if you’ve been cheering them on your entire life. You marvel at UCLA still dancing even though many thought they ought not to have danced.

You gleefully watch LSU lose in the first round, suddenly realizing that you loathe more athletes and teams than you ever thought possible. You find yourself desperately hoping for a Wichita State vs. Kentucky rematch, because the Shockers could have a revenge game up their sleeve after what happened to their would-be perfect season.

And, even when your entire bracket is in shambles, you still find yourself captivated by every win and every loss to every school in the country for an entire month. Besides Villanova actually playing like it’s a No.1 seed, what more could a sports fan ask for?

— Logan Jones is a junior majoring in journalism. His young nephew Taylor filled out his bracket by picking numbered sticky notes, and currently has a score of 46 on CBS (460 on ESPN). Send comments or questions to logantjones@aggiemail.usu.edu or tweet at him @Logantj.