March Madness

Dear Son,

One of the cruel thing about the quarter system this law school is currently on is that the NCAA Men's Basketball tournament starts during finals week. This year it's not so bad, since I'm done on Tuesday, and the first round doesn't start until Thursday. But it sure adds a distraction in the run up to it.

The funny thing is that you will know me as far more of a sports fan than I ever was as a kid. Or even as a young adult, frankly. Part of it is growing up in South Dakota, where there's not really a local team to get all excited about. There's something about the home team that makes ANY sport worth watching. If I saw the University of Minnesota playing marbles on ESPN "O" (the "O" is for "Obscure"), I'd be totally into it.

(If ESPN "O" actually exists when you read this, I'll laugh my ass off.)

Maybe part of it was that I was so bored when my dad was watching sports. He can watch a game just for the sake of the game. I have to have a dog in the fight, or I just don't care. Which is why being in a tournament pool is fun, because it means you have a lot of dogs in a lot of fights. That, and the family fortune of $5 on the line!

That, and I was pretty nerdy when I was young. Actually, REALLY nerdy. I see pictures of myself, and want to shove myself in a locker. (Yes, I know. "Was?" Ha ha.) Like most annoying nerds, I convinced myself that my awkward social condition really was a result of my superiority to the other kids, most of whom were really into the whole sports thing.

Even when I was in college, it was hard to get into. I was getting into football (see "Packers" below), but our football team really, REALLY sucked. And although our basketball team went to the Final Four (a feat later purged from the records due to a cheating scandal), I just wasn't that into it. I didn't get it. But the seeds were sown, because I started becoming an anti-Packers fan, just to spite all the Wisconsin kids who went to the U of MN were so unbelievably obnoxious. I mean, out of control obnoxious. Hate. All. Cheeseheads...

When I was in the Navy, I learned that sports were a crucial part of American social and professional life. At least American sports are. (I bet when you read this, Americans still won't care much about soccer past the age of 10.) It's part of the language you're expected to know. When you introduce yourself to someone, and he asks where you went to school, and you respond to his trash talk with, "Uh, I don't really follow sports," then your image and influence will suffer. Just the way it is. It's like a weak handshake. I also was introduced to NCAA basketball pools by the Paul F. Foster's supply officer, a crazy Montanan (Montana-ite? Montaner?) named Jared.

But your mom, with her Gonzaga fanatacism, really made me a college basketball fan. (It helped that we started dating around the time I met Jared.) And it IS fun to watch. Young kids with a lot of heart and that hometown loyalty, before the NBA turns them into thugs and pimps. And so many teams with so many hometowns to love or hate.

Don't worry, son. I promise that I won't let you be as nerdy as I was, and you will never suffer in awkward silence when the people around you are talking about the big game. Plus, it'll just be fun. When I'm shouting at refs at little league games, calling other kids names in peewee soccer leagues, fighting with other dads... Kidding! Maybe we'll just play catch. Or set up a basketball hoop in the driveway and play some H-O-R-S-E. Sweet.

Well, back to studying. Two finals. B = J.D. Then I sit in a bar all day on Thursday with friends, celebrate sports, the end of finals, and smack talk our brackets. Life is good.

Love, Dad.