March Madness

Just about everything I know about football–and certainly everything I know about basketball–I learned from my mom. (Let me pause to give credit to Al for expanding my football knowledge)

Although she loved watching football–to the point that chores were done by noon on Saturday in the fall–and many lesson plans were written during football games on Saturdays, she REALLY loved basketball. And she got into those games. I mean yelling at the TV like she was a man. Meanwhile, Dad was in the basement working on his model railroad.

True story.

And all that was during the regular season.

Then came March. And the ACC Tournament. And Selection Sunday. Mom would take the empty bracket printed in the Fayetteville paper from Sunday morning and fill it in as the teams were announced. Never mind the fact that the bracket would be printed all nice and pretty like in the paper the next morning. And there was no stopping her–or interrupting her during selection time. And then the NCAA Tournament started. And when Carolina was playing, she was coaching from the couch or her bedroom. She was, however, not one for the prognostication. She just filled in the brackets as the games went along.

And so it is, each March that I print out my bracket. I do wait until Selection Sunday is over…and I fill it in prognosticator-style. And then the Tournament starts and I am glued to the TV–coaching from my own couch. And I think of her and all the basketball we watched–whether we were cheering for the same team or not–and I miss her.

But it doesn’t stop me from watching basketball like my Momma used to do. And filling in my bracket along the way.

Even if it is horribly busted this year.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s