The Madness of March

Now I know why they call it "March Madness." You see, it's a sickness. I know only all too well. For you see, I too, recently succumbed to this horrible ailment, reducing me to screaming like a lunatic and bouncing off the walls.

Thank God I got better. It was touch and go there for a while.

Okay, those who know me understand that I'm not a sports guy. Gasp. Choke! Shocker! Anyway, I never have been and honestly thought I never would be. But this insidious March Madness is highly infectious, a pandemic of rabid sports fans gone wild.

Not too long ago, I visited my daughter. She said, cool, but we have to watch the KU basketball game for the tournament championship.

I grumbled and groused, begrudgingly gave in, thinking "how bad can it be if the beer's flowing?"

Turns out, pretty damn bad.

A little background: By all rights I probably should've been excited about the University of Kansas Jayhawks being in the final game. KU is my alma mater, after all. But anytime you have grown men playing with balls and other grown men painting their faces and screaming like banshees at the grown men stuffing balls into nets has always just made my eyes glaze over. I always thought that I'd never fall prey to such barbaric behavior, especially when there's really nothing at stake other then grown men shoving balls into nets.

I was wrong.

My daughter and I started watching the game. The beer's flowing nicely. I'm finding myself becoming increasingly interested in how KU is faring. At half-time, KU's down big and my daughter is pretty much resigned to their losing. But I stand by them. I'm starting to call them by their names like we're pals. I claim ownership and start saying things like, "Oh, we really blew it there" and "We were fouled!" By the end of the game--and it was a real nail-biter--my daughter and I are standing up, jumping, and screaming at the top of our lungs, "That's how we do! That's how we do!" (That statement shamelessly ripped off from Jaden Smith defending his dad's actions  at the Academy Awards. And that's ALL I'll ever say about that travesty.)

See what I mean, though? This March Madness is nefarious, reducing civilized people into screeching baboons and forcing them to proclaim ownership over a team of grown men playing with balls. (In truthfulness, this actually occurred in April, but the Madness carried over).

Whew. I wasn't proud of my my barbaric behavior. (You don't suppose multiple beers had anything to do with it, right? Nah, I didn't think so).

March Madness is aptly named. It's a disease. A bad one. (Actually "March Madness" is used as a sort of brand name for the NCAA Division 1 Men's Basketball Tournament. I can see two reasons for it being named March Madness: 1) The real name is a mouthful and a half. By the time sports maniacs spit out the full name, their enthusiasm will have been spent; 2) It's a nefarious illness. Duh.)

Won't you help me stop the March Madness? Please send all donations to me c/o Twisted Tales of Tornado Alley, P.O. Box Scam, Hickville, Kansas.

While on the topic of horrible, infectious diseases, something bad is affecting the miners of Gannaway, Kansas, and I'm not even talking about the ghosts and hauntings. No sir, the "yellow-eyed fever" is turning Gannaway's inhabitants downright homicidal. Come on over, pay a visit, kick your feet up, but don't dwell. It's a might downright scary town. Read all about it in Ghosts of Gannaway!