The Madness of March

As I write this week’s column, I am dealing with the fact that my life has been greatly affected by a little something I like to call “What? More Basketball?” You might know it by its more common name, March Madness.

March Madness is when a whole bunch of college basketball teams play each other. And then the winners of those games play the winners of other games. And then all those winners play each other. And so on and so forth until the end of time and the Lord has returned to take us all back to heaven with him. The End.

I’m not really down on March Madness. While my tone may signal a bit of agitation, I think it could be better described as amazement with a hint of fatigue. It seems that right now, college basketball is inexplicably available for our viewing pleasure 28 hours of the day. How can this be? While our family watches considerably less than that, I continue to be amazed by two things – I am amazed by the many, many games there are to watch every single day; and I am amazed that neither my husband nor my sons seem to tire of watching them.

This year, as so many people have noted, Easter came early. This meant March Madness got geared up during Holy Week. The timing worked out well for the Family Balducci. With one of our main Lenten sacrifices being an abstinence from television, that would have made for an even more painful fast. But as Holy Week is not technically a part of Lent, it seems that those who set up this year’s calendar smiled upon us and set us free to watch all the basketball we could stomach.

“What would you have done,” I recently asked my husband, “if March Madness had started during Lent?”

“Every year that I have given up TV for Lent,” he told me (as we watched a game), “I include a clause that says it does not apply to March Madness.”

For the past week (which I’ll admit doesn’t sound like much now that I’ve typed it), I have gone to bed, alone, to the sounds of five cheering fans bellowing from the front room. The boys are thrilled to stay up late with their dad. The last few nights, they have been allowed to watch the games and root for their team. One night, Elliott’s favorite team played against Paul’s favorite team. It was a thrilling showdown for everyone.

All moans and groans aside, I’ll admit I really don’t dislike March Madness all that much. While I try to watch as much as I can take – far, far less than everyone else around here – what I love is how much my boys all enjoy it. And most importantly how they enjoy it together. We have our things we do together as a family, but this is certainly something special for my husband and sons.

Growing up, my family was into baseball. I have so many fond memories of all of us sitting in the front room watching our favorite team. We were hardcore fans (my dad and brothers especially so), and these days, whenever I hear a Braves game on A.M. radio, I am immediately rushed back to summer afternoons of my youth, sitting by my dad as he cheered for his team. I love those memories.

I think about March Madness, and how when my boys are older I bet they’ll feel a similar nostalgia. They’ll remember the end-of-basketball season as a string of days featuring never-ending games and the luxury of staying up late, cheering for their team and – most importantly – precious time spent with their dad.