I don’t like to talk about this, but my husband made me write a blog on it. This goes against everything I stand for. What is this horrible do-not-say-it-by-name thing? Why, it’s my bracket for the NCAA tournament.
My bracket is like Fight Club. The first rule of my bracket is “don’t talk about my bracket.” The second rule of my bracket is “don’t %&#$ing talk about my bracket.”
You see, I’m somewhat of an NCAA tournament savant if you will. Four years ago, I asked my husband if I could join the bracket pool that he and his two brothers are in. Since they let me in, they also let two other friends in. One girl versus five guys. Oh, and our group name? Crapbags. They of course jumped at that chance; to them it was an easy $10.
But before I get to the Crapbags, let me take you back to a quieter time, back when I worked the front desk of the Southwest YMCA while still a wee lad (ladette??) in college. My Tuesday night posse of Russ, Scott and Big D (it doesn’t mean what you think it does, perverts) decided they were going to have a bracket contest, naturally I wanted in. They were nice enough and obliged. That year, my virgin bracket, I picked Duke to win it all. I still to this day remember the reaction of the three male co-workers I was playing against. They laughed, told me I was wrong and that Duke was of course my only choice because it was probably one of the only teams I knew. Well, not only did I correctly predict Duke, but I also had their opponent correct as well. The three of them were out of the contest before the final four even began. Haters (and technically LOSERS).
Now, we shall flash forward to the Crapbag era, circling back around ya’ll. SIDE: OH.MY.GOD. Andy Dick’s jazz dance to Gaga’s “Bad Romance” just made my life. Yes, I like Dancing with the Stars. So what? Jealous? END SIDE. Ahem, Crapbags, yes…seriously, sorry, you all have no idea how distracted I am now with Derek and Kellie’s dance. FOCUS! Okay, Crapbag, soooo four years ago, like I said above, I joined their pool (not a swimming pool, drank…) and needless to say it was pretty identical to the YMCA sitch. Once again, I picked Duke and once again, was ridiculed. Granted it had been like six years since my one and only bracket pool and win, but I was confident, brushed off their asshat remarks, and stood my ground. Then it happened: DUKE WON and those Crapbags were all in shock. The best part about all this was that those losers didn’t pay me my winnings.
The next year, a few more people joined the pool. I believe we had seven people that year. I could be wrong, I’m terrible at math aka counting. That year I went rogue and picked Connecticut as my winners. Repeat the ridicule of Duke, but replace with Connecticut and in addition a lot of, “This is the year we win. Sorry Kace, no way they will win,” blah blah blah blah. Once again I proved the Crapbags wrong and once again those dick’s didn’t pay me my well earned money. I should’ve started charging them interest since it was two years no pay, but again, I’m terrible with math aka percentages.
Year three, are you sensing a pattern yet, the bracket pool grew even more with the addition of some other wives (honestly it was nice to have some other vagina’s around) and some more Crapbags. I think we were now up to 12 or so. Once again, the email went out that the bracket was open and this is the year that I would be going down because some other wife would have dumb luck like I apparently have had the last two years. I remember sitting with my brother-in-law at dinner a week before the tournament began and him asking me who my team was. I said, I hadn’t picked yet, but I’m pretty sure I’d be going with Kentucky. He just laughed and was like, no way, it’s Kansas’s year (or some other team, who knows, don’t care). I decided to stick with my gut and was the only one that chose Kentucky to win it all. Throughout the tournament I was last or middle of the road until the final four, then I bolted up to fourth place, then the final two came along and it was me versus one other dude. Kentucky versus Kansas, well we all know how that ended. Kentucky for the win! I finally collected back pay and everything. It was a first!
That brings us to this year. To put it nicely, I’m so %&#ing screwed, there’s no way in hell I’m going to win and I will tell you why. First, I’ve already won three years in a row. I wanted to bow out gracefully, but my husband made me play because “everyone wants to beat you.” Second, I made my bracket picks the other night, and while my husband sat at the computer doing research on who the educated pick would be (which, he does this every year and every year comes in dead last – you think he’d learn), he tricked me into telling him some of my picks. DOES HE NOT KNOW THE RULES OF MY BRACKET PICKS?! (in this moment, I had consumed a lot of wine, and apparently forgot them as well, don’t judge). Third, HE PICKED THE EXACT SAME FINAL FOUR AND WINNER AS ME. Oh, hell no. Let’s not lie, the other two were glitches but that, oh man, that is what has done me in. When I confronted him late at night about this he admitted, “If I can’t win then I’m taking you down with me (evil laugh)!”
In conclusion, God this was way longer than I intended it to be, sorry, I currently sit in 12th place out of 14. One guess who is in 14th place? (my husband). So there is no way I’m going to win at all. For the first time in years I will be an official Crapbag and it’s all Matt Baum’s fault. Ugh, as if!
Kacie Baum is a professional partier, mother of two pugs, and the wife of Matt Baum. She tolerates the constant presence of the Two-Headed Nerd in her home each week. She did not write this bio. Pre-THN entries of Girl Meets Nerd can be found here.