An Open Letter To March Madness

Dear March Madness and the Geniuses at the NCAA:

I hardly know where to begin. Let me start with this. I'm not really a sports fan. I don't know who players are, I don't follow pro sports at all, and collegiate sports only minimally. I can't cite a single sports statistic off the top of my head. But I make an exception for Carolina basketball. There are only two sporting events in the world that I will stop everything else in my life to watch (unless we're counting Dancing With the Stars, in which case three, but for now let's not). Number One: Carolina/Duke games. And Number Two: Any NCAA tournament game in which Carolina is playing. Today I did not study -- let me repeat, DID NOT STUDY, when studying is the number one activity of my life -- so that I could watch the University of North Carolina play in the Sweet Sixteen against Washington State. And you, in your infinite wisdom, NCAA, have decided that you can MAKE MORE MONEY or some other SHITTY REASON, so you only let ONE FREAKING CHANNEL broadcast all the games. And then you scheduled games AT THE SAME GODDAMN TIME. And excuse me, all you Xavier and West Virginia fans out there, I know your game was excellent, exciting, and all the things that a Sweet Sixteen basketball game should be, so I don't want to take anything away from you by saying this, but really. I don't give a flying fart. That's not true. I do give a flying fart, because one of you will be playing UNC in a future round. But I would MUCH RATHER have been watching the second half of the UNC game, thank you very much. Instead, Umulu and I sat there having paroxysms of frustration throughout the ENTIRE SECOND HALF, not that you broadcast even one measley SECOND of it. Not one. But hope springs eternal, so we sat there, flipping back and forth between Keith Olbermann and the Xavier/WVU game, just checking the score. Then Keith got tiresome, so we watched some HGTV and learned how to put paisley appliqué on our walls, just in case we ever want to do that. And every time we checked the score, our hearts sank further and further into our bellies, because we were winning by a substantial margin and apparently the only way you get airtime during the early rounds of the tournament is if you PLAY REALLY CRAPPY AND STAND A GOOD CHANCE OF LOSING. We hung on for a while, thinking that we might get to see the last two or three minutes, but then Xavier and the Mountaineers went into overtime, and we gave up.

NCAA Geniuses, March Madness? Can you hear me? There's got to be some way you could plan this a little better. Just think of all the extra money you could earn off of fans you didn't alienate! Is it too much to ask for a faithful fan to see her team when they're playing really well? I protest, March Madness. I know you're not listening to me, and if you wanted to, you probably couldn't hear me over the mad, loud clinking of all your solid gold coins, but on the off chance that for one perfect moment you achieve absolute stillness, here's hoping that my lone, reedy voice filters through the silence and bounces off your tympanic membrane. Next year let's do this a little better, ok?

Yours truly,
Amazing Cheastypants.