For the past three years, Alex Grant and I (with the fantastic help of our amazing partners, Robin and Michelle) have analyzed the concept of community through the lens of the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, which is colloquially referred to as March Madness.
The Opener
Here’s how I’ve historically set-up this tour de force of an experience for our readers:
[Editor’s note: in addition to speaking in the third person, the Editor-in-Chief of this blog loves basketball, higher education, community, competition, and when they all slam together in a mess of cheers, tears, body-paint, over-achievement, and ridiculously awesome excitingly uncontrollable hyperboles. Exclamation point! John and his American-import-possibly-mustached-BFF, Alex Grant, are about to engage in witticisms and reflect on precarious predictions pertaining to the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament. As players, teams, schools, regions, bank accounts, pundits, pride, and – yes – nations collide, you will get a true sense of what the March Madness community really means. Enjoy!]
Right?! It’s the greatest!
Yeah, we made predictions (see broken brackets below). This year, though, we will focus specifically on how The Potentiality’s six key competencies factor into the tournament. From picking winners to fan engagement to play-by-play broadcasting to actual basketball, we will explore the skills and abilities required for communities to reach their potential.
Communication
JOHN: March Madness is all about hyperbole. I think that verbal and literary exaggeration hit a crescendo when the Wichita State University Shockers upset the number one seeded Gonzaga Bulldogs. Fans, players, media members, and even some lewd Twitter trolls took to The Internets to espouse witticisms that played on the word “shocker”. It ran the gamut of sensation; from the sublimely hilarious to the inappropriately crude. Congratulations, Hyperbole. March Madness has made you the single greatest literary agent in the history of language and the universe.
ALEX: While John has gleefully pointed out that the Wichita State Shockers destroyed many a-bracket, including mine, it’s mostly because he likes saying the word “Wichita.” And who doesn’t?! I firmly believe that a large part of what makes March Madness so popular is that people from across North America have a compelling narrative teed up for them for an entire month. People don’t really care about college basketball, but they love talk with one another about the crazy buzzer beaters, the heart-tugging stories, and the fact that somebody’s 3 year-old daughter is leading the office pool.
Teamwork
JOHN: As I write this, Syracuse’s zone defense is smothering the Indiana Hoosiers, who look about as lost as Kurt Heinrich at a non-soccer-related sporting event. Now, a two-three zone defense is a fine thing, but it’s by no means the greatest thing. How the Orange (Syracuse) are working collaboratively – communicating, intuitively moving, collapsing like a trap sprung on Indiana Jones – is why they just knocked off a number one seed.
ALEX: For the teamwork aspect, I’m going to a raise a glass to my better half, Robin, with whom I always fill out my predictions at the start of March. Robin always manages to talk me out of my crazy predictions, and ensure that I make a sensible…wait, wait…did Kansas State just lose to LA SALLE?!? WHAT IS LA SALLE? ROOOOOBBBBIIIINNNNN!!!!
Thinking & Learning
JOHN: When it comes to picking a bracket I’ve tried a lot of things. During my undergraduate days, I actually spent time over four months of my third year watching about one NCAA game per week, following a few writers/analysts, and conducting “research” before I made my picks. Such thinking and learning led to my victorious foray into the world of Bracketology. I won my pool and I made my community better by spreading the wealth. Building on the power of my research-based approach, I promptly failed to win anything for the next three years. So, I’ve since thrown “research” and “evidence” out the window in favour of “intuition” and “number of Canadians on a team” and “mascot prowess” and “my gut feeling” – suffice to say that this method hasn’t positively impacted my community in any other way than making Robin and Alex feel really, really great when they screw up their face with perplexed wonder and say: “He chose Georgetown? Really?!” Friends, you’re welcome.
ALEX: I have to echo John on this one. Thinking and Learning are anathema to Braketology. So instead I’d like to quickly focus on the players, whom we often forget, are teenagers. Each passing year leaves my early 20s (along with all visions of athletic grandeur) a bit dimmer in my minds’ eye. But I know this much: if my University-self were put onto a free throw line with two shots to send the game to overtime, there’s no question that I’d faint and wake up back in my squalid dorm room. The poise, maturity, and raw skill of the student athletes are testaments to hard work, careful thinking, and learning a game to the point of artistry.
Creativity
JOHN: While there is already chatter about how “creative” and/or “shady” practices are what got Florida Gulf Coast University (the school was founded in 1991 and is currently in its first eligible year of Division I competition) into the Sweet 16, I’d like to focus on a different aspect of FGCU’s creativity: alley-oops. FGCU point guard Brett Comer is a balls-out creative beast whose fearless alley-oop tosses have left fans and broadcasters alike jumping and screaming with amazement. As a lover of pure sport I will admit that the alley-oop-tomahawk-slam-dunk-of-awesome against San Diego State saw me literally leap off of my couch in excitement and spill some quinoa puffs on the floor. Speaking of creativity, I eat quinoa puffs while watching sports…
ALEX: I’m shaking my head at you John. I’m nearly certain a quinoa puff is sanctionable by the NCAA, and if not by them, then certainly by the Fraternity of Dude. While FGCU’s play above the rim has been impressive this year, I’m always most impressed by the March Madness colour commentators. Old men making hilarious old-timey exclamations about astounding basketball moves is part of the season. “Holy Pete! Now that’s what I’d call a press!” Of course, the gold standard is Gus Johnson’s sublime/maniacal calls from the 2000s.
Adaptability
JOHN: Losing is painful, sure. Whether you’re a player, fan or silly guy who picked Georgetown to make the final, picking oneself up after a loss fosters resilience. Resilience inspires adaptability. For example, when the Vancouver Canucks lose in the first round of the playoffs – like when Duke lost by 20 in the Elite Eight – people in Vancouver can still celebrate local sports by cheering for the Whitecaps and/or enhance well-being by playing actual sports outside with people!
ALEX: In a tournament where you have to go on a 6-game winning streak to win the title, it’s inevitable that you’re going to have good and bad match-ups. Whether it’s IU wilting under the heat of Syracuse’s zone, or Michigan saying “not today” and improbably beating Kansas, coaches and players have to have the courage to scrap what’s not working and move with aggressive adaptability if they want to get far in the tournament.
Leadership
JOHN: Real leaders lead by example and without title. I like the teams that don’t have last names on their jerseys. Their school and community come first. It’s as ego-less as a tournament with hundreds of millions of viewers and billions of dollars of corporate sponsorship can be!
ALEX: It’s human to love underdogs and Cinderella stories. I especially like them in March Madness, because the moment is so fleeting for 99% of the people involved. Teams are always changing as players graduate or move on. A tiny fraction of the people we see on TV in March go on to play pro ball. For the overwhelming majority, the games of the NCAA tournament are a fanfare of glory, and it’s always impressive to watch leaders emerge in those circumstances. I like to think that even though we’ll probably never see that Northern Iowa point guard call the offense again, the experience has shaped him into a great leader in another joyful pursuit.
The Closer
JOHN: So there it is. March Madness as a vehicle for communities to realize their potential and enhance well-being. Alex, I think you’re great and respect your armchair opinions. You are a noble ambassador of your nation, mustaches, the chicken wing, alliteration, and the sport of basketball. I know that this is typically the place that we “trash talk”, but facts are facts: you’re just too good of a guy to say anything mean about, no matter how contrived and hilarious the remarks might be.
ALEX: This was, by-far, our most civilized March Madness exchange. I’m looking forward to a merciless trash talking session when we get together to watch the Finals. Be sure you bring enough quinoa puffs to share.
Robin’s Postscript: The Potential of a Bracket
Ah–the moment you receive your March Madness bracket. Just look at it. All those beautiful blank lines. So much potential, so much possibility. Maybe, just maybe, No Name State will triumph over that sissy pants private school nobody likes (how do they do it year after year?). There will be the inevitable Cinderella stories, swan songs, ultimate triumphs. The thing just bristles with energy.
Potential.
In your mind, you can see everything perfectly: the victors, trotting around the court, the fans, the tears. You know who will win. But the moment your pen hits the paper, the moment the potential becomes the actual, is the moment things go awry. It is at that moment that you transfer your potential, be it fueled by blind guess or months of study, to the hands of teenagers. Teenagers! Who would trust them with anything else? Once your bracket is in place, you are no longer in control of the possibilities. Your Cinderella story could turn into a pumpkin before the final four. But….BUT…you could be victorious. And in the end, the loss of control is what makes a bracket victory so sweet. It’s your potential meeting someone else’s and becoming actual. Feel that?
Our Broken Brackets
Alex Grant’s awesome picks!
John Horn’s awesome picks!
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Masthead photo courtesy of Werner Kunz’s Photostream / Flickr