Phoning it in: The March Madness Edition

[Ed. Note: James Betty doesn't take sick days, but the editing, spell-checking, general format and plot of PAJ all get pitched when he gets the sniffles. Since he's literally the only writer on a staff we don't pay, once or twice a year we let the guy phone it in. We call it health insurance.]

I seem to have caught this March Madness everyone's talking about, and it's manifesting as fever, chills, aching joints, vomiting and just a ridiculous amount of mucus. Experts say it won't be over until April 7. I don't know if I can last that long. Tell my wife she can go ahead and marry that bottle of Pinot Grigio like she's always wished. I've filled out the bracket like the experts said, and the only thing left to do is wait to see if I survive. I guess I could drink a lot of fluids while I'm waiting, like doctors say you should, but I ask you, what the does a doctor know about college hoops? In their 8 years of training I bet fadeaway-3's never even came up, and Cinderella was only mentioned as a case study in occupational therapy. March Madness isn't taken seriously by medical science, but I write before you today as living proof of it's debilitating effects. I feel almost as bad as I did after that “St. Ides of March” party a few years back. The Shakespearean accents got dropped pretty quickly, and then things got decidedly more interesting. Dave got shot. Don't tell anyone I said that.

Ohio State Buckeyes? More like Ohio State Fuckeyes. My bracket didn't even last 2 hours. Guess that's what I get for betting on a team I hate. Okay, I'm over it. That didn't take long. The Fuckeyes comment was made out of anger. I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for all the profanity I've spouted in my life. I bet my Grandmother feels relieved now, but has no idea why.

Grandma's scared for my soul again. I just caught myself screaming at the TV, so maybe I'm starting to feel a little better. Well, I guess I didn't so much catch myself as I was interrupted by a police-issue flashlight banging on the door of my apartment. My neighbours don't like raspy voices yelling profane death threats in their neighbourhood. I urge citizens to have courage in these trying times. Luckily, your team going down by 24 points in the first ten fucking minutes is a legitimate reason to yell death threats. Looks like the law is on the right side of something for once.

The way these networks cover the games either makes no sense or makes such perfect sense that you wonder how we could know so little about the universe. The networks will cut away when Delaware is getting blown out by a real team, underscoring the tangential affinity America has for that middle child of States, but when NC State is setting up an upset, who wants to watch that, right? FUCK YOU, TSN2. I WANNA WATCH THAT SHIT. That's probably the problem right there. I'm not an American television subscriber. Missing a few basketball games is probably worth having health care and not worrying about guns. Oh Canada, all your basketball sucks. Oh well.