Yet
again, the bracket Brigadoon emerges from the mists, full of
questionable insights and faulty prognostications. Like the poster says, “It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve
as a warning to others.” So call me the Ancient Bracketeer, and by
hearing my pretzel logic and tales of tournaments passed, you will
know the error of my ways, and perhaps be empowered to avoid the
shoals of my despair.
Part
I – Tuesday morning, 3/15/16
Forty
hours have passed since Selection Sunday, and by now, typically, I'd
be surrounded by printouts of rebounding margins and Pomeroy rankings, feverishly arguing for both sides of 7 vs. 10 matchup such
as Iowa vs. Temple, which Fran is the Franniest? Or weighing 11
different Final Four teams by backup point guards' assist-to-turnover
ratio in away games.
Unlike
the Ancient Mariner, I have some self-awareness, so I know that way
lies madness. Beyond the math, which approaches Avogadrian
complexity, the fact that, in filling out a bracket, you are trying
to predict the behavior and mind-sets of 64 (play-in games not
included) groups of 18 to 22-year-old men, should give your
confidence pause.
In
fact, it is that air of misplaced confidence, so common among the
professional prognoscenti, that has led me to a new epiphany. No one
knows anything. After hearing all winter how chaotic this season has
been, about how top teams have more losses than ever and anyone can
beat anyone on a neutral court, it drives me crazy that all the
experts are picking nothing but 1 and 2 seeds for the Final Four, and
everyone has Kansas, UNC or Michigan St. as their National Champion.
Look, it's March and Donald Trump continues to lead the race for the
Republican nomination. Not for Mendacious Wind-Bag. For President.
These may not be End Times, but they sure are crazy ones. So my
motto is: Embrace the Chaos. With some caveats, as follows:
Conferences
matter, to a point. Last year, the Big 12 underperformed, although
they look strong this year. The Big 10 has a long history of
disappointing results, Michigan St. excepted. This year, the RPI
loves the Pac 12, but when's the last time a Pac 12 team other than
Arizona made the Elite Eight? 2008 (UCLA). My plan this year is to
give Big 12 and ACC teams the benefit of the doubt, but be skeptical
of non-Michigan St. Big 10 teams, and downright disdainful of Pac-12
teams, with the possible exception of Arizona. And I have an
irrational love for the 3 Atlantic 10 teams (St. Joe's, Dayton, VCU)
that may come back to haunt me.
Coaches
matter, to a point. Mike Krzyewski, Roy Williams, John Calipari,
Tom Izzo, Bill Self, all these guys are in the Hall of Fame or will
be for a reason. They been through March Madness many times and
have had great success many times. But they also failed many times,
with highly seeded and well-regarded teams losing early. I'll
probably pick against a couple of them early, and then hate myself
later. What about a younger coach who's ready for a breakthrough to
greatness this year. Who will it be? Tony Bennett (please!), Mark
Turgeon, Cuonzo Martin, Jay Wright, Matt Painter, Chris Mack, Scott
Drew? Can Jim Larranaga bring his Cinderella magic to Miami? And
can Shaka Smart exorcise years of bad underperforming juju from
Texas?
Player
experience matters. This tends to take care of itself for the
higher seeds, but there are exceptions. According to this helpful Redditor, who compiled tournament minutes of experience for current
players on all 68 teams, some teams have surprisingly low previous
experience, such as Oregon, Cal, Texas A&M, and Seton Hall,
while others with lower seeds have a lot of experience, for example
Arizona, Notre Dame, Wisconsin, and Dayton. And tonight, there's a
fascinating test case for the theory that player experience matters
when Wichita St., with 832 minutes of player experience (3rd
most in the entire field) plays Vanderbilt, with 0 minutes of
experience.
But,
mostly, I want to have fun. So when in doubt, I'll pick the upset.
And my Final Four won't be just 1 and 2 seeds, because where's the
fun in that. And as a hedge, I won't pick Virginia or Kentucky to
make the Final Four. That way, if they do, I'll be so happy I won't
really care if my bracket is toasted garbage. And if they don't,
maybe a semi-successful bracket will console me in my time of
darkness. Like Coleridge wrote, “The guests are met, the feast is
set: May'st hear the merry din.”
