Bracketology with the Crack Young Staff

Well, dear reader, it’s just about NCAA tournament time for the pituitary cases who are undeservedly admitted into universities in order to play college basketball. March Madness, that is to say, will soon be upon us.

And, we imagine, the sobriquet “March Madness” has nothing to do with the fact that March is Women’s History Month. (Or is that Womyn’s Herstory Month?) In fact, now that we think about it, it’s kind of humorous that March is Women’s History Month, since it is also home to the ladies’ NCAA basketball tournament, and only rather mannish women give a darn about that.

As much as we hate to admit it, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are transfixed by the so-called Big Dance. We just can’t get enough of it. All day, we’ve been furiously filling in our respective brackets, aiming on taking first prize in sundry office pools.

There’s only one problem, dear reader: We simply can’t decide which teams to choose. If we recall from past tournaments, dolts who’ve never even laid eyes on a college basketball match outperform supposed experts. No matter how much thought you put into your bracket, you’ll always wind up screwing up royally. You’re better off having your pet monkey fill it in for you.

This has led us, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” to devise a new method of picking teams. Sure, it may not be any more accurate than a séance, but it has the added benefit of offering some sort of satisfaction.

We call our method “The Anti-Princeton Review Scheme,” and we think it’s just delightful.

When you are ready to fill out your bracket, dear reader, all you must do is choose the schools that are easier to get into. You know, the sorts of colleges that require nothing for entrance beyond a pen.

Now, this method of selection may not work, of course. But it sure is satisfying. Why would you pick snobby old Georgetown when you can root for Northern Iowa to trounce them? Why choose fancy-pants UCLA when you can cheer for Belmont—which we only recently discovered was a college?

There’s no darn reason at all. None whatsoever. So, if you aren’t going to win your office pool—and, let’s face it, you aren’t—you might as well have fun plumping for schools you actually could have attended.

The more miserable sounding the university, the more God-forsaken the location, the more vociferously you should tout them. Goodbye, Duke, North Carolina, and California (which is really UC Berkeley, but those elitist hippies are too cowardly to give their real name)! And hello Murray St., Monmouth, and Southern Alabama!

There is, of course, the possibility that two collegiate clunkers will play one another, and it will prove difficult to choose between them. They both have rolling admissions; they both are in the middle of nowhere; and they both are easier to get into than Paris Hilton. What do you do then?

That, dear reader, is when you call your pet monkey to the rescue.