If there's one word to describe the first three days of the NCAA tournament, it's "chalk."
All around the country, pools were headed by bracket virgins and no-nothings who typically ride the higher seeds. No Old Dominion. No Davidson. No Albany or Long Beach State or Oral Roberts. No chances. No risks.
And, for the most part, that's exactly what happened.
On day one, everybody who was supposed to win won. Everybody but Duke. (And that wasn't exactly a jaw-dropping shocker.) Nine seeds Michigan State and Xavier (and Purdue over Arizona on day two) don't count as upsets because those games are complete toss-ups.
(Random Note No. 1: Watching VCU beat Duke was by far the highlight of the day. At one point, they did something great and I raised my fists in victory, except I was sitting underneath a low ceiling fan and nearly got my hands chopped off. Everybody agreed that would have made for a great scene in a spoof horror movie. I have bruises.)
On day two, more of the same. There was another 11/6 upset with Winthrop taking down Notre Dame, but, again, that wasn't a total shocker (even though I took the Irish). So as everybody who took Arkansas over USC, Creighton over Nevada, Illinois over Virginia Tech, or Georgia Tech over UNLV started wracking up the Xs, the no-nothings continued to rise up their rankings, making smug comments like, "Gee, and I don't even watch basketball. This is so funny." And all you want to do is punch them in the face except you've been sitting on the same bar stool for the better part of two days and aren't really in a position to do anything but fall down.
(Random Note No. 2: You know you've been drinking for too long when you go straight from being drunk to having a hangover without any sleep in between.)
On day three, the story was free throws, free throws, free throws.
Pittsburgh missed chance after chance to put VCU away in regulation. They got away with it, but barely. (And celebrated like they just did something a lot more significant than survive an 11-seed in the second round.)
Louisville missed two to take the lead with just seconds remaining. Edgar Sosa had been 15-for-15 in the game before missing the critical pair.
Xavier missed 1-of-2 to make it a two-possession game and take the upset they wanted so, so badly (and played well enough to deserve).
Indiana went 10-of-21 in a game they lost by five.
Maryland went 7-of-15 in a game they lost by three.
Perhaps nowhere does the pressure of the tournament manifest itself more than late in a close game, standing at the free throw line with the ball in your hands. Everybody is watching, holding their breaths, screaming, or biting down on their hats. Makeitmakeitmakeit. Missitmissitmissit. It's up and...
(Can you imagine if there was a college football playoff, and a kicker was lining up for a game winner in a tournament setting? All I can say is thank god for the BCS. College football fans would absolutely hate all that excitement and drama.)
Anyway, Butler beating Maryland and Vanderbilt beating Washington State are seeding upsets, but not entirely unpredictable outcomes — certainly not on the level of Xavier almost taking out Ohio State or VCU nearly knocking off Jamie and the Dixons.
With one day left in the opening weekend of the 2007 tournament, chalk was still the rule of law. No 12/5 upsets. No Cinderellas. No "next George Mason."
Then came day four and the fall of Wisconsin. With the exception of those who took Duke far into the night, the Badgers' loss was the first major X on everybody's bracket.
Then Florida held off a super tough Purdue team (congrats to Matt Painter, an excellent coach who is going to have that program in the upper echelon of the Big Ten for a long time to come).
Southern Illinois' offense did a much better job adjusting to a knock-down drag out than did Virginia Tech and Oregon put Winthrop to bed.
I was having a fantastic day. An undefeated day. A first-place day. Then I saw a new score, "Memphis 4, Nevada 2."
Now 4-2 doesn't count for much in a 40-minute game. But when I saw that, I got this sudden overwhelming sense of doom. "On no. What did I do? Nevada in the Final Four? What was I thinking? I'm so dumb! MOTHER EFFER!"
The next two hours was an excruciating exercise in waiting for the inevitable. Memphis was going to go on a run that would put them up 15 and kill my bracket. Memphis up four. Memphis up seven. Memphis up five. Memphis up three. Memphis up six. Memphis up eight. The farther Memphis pulled away, the more angry I got. The more Nevada came back, the more nervous I got.
Somehow, Nevada stuck with it. Despite a stagnant offense that made only 10-of-27 shots (2-of-9 from three), the Wolfpack made it to half-time only down 37-33. My hope was that since Memphis has always been somewhat mentally fragile, they would get frustrated not having a big lead yet.
Of course, that didn't happen. Nevada brought it to within two, then Nick Fazekas missed a chip shot that would have made it a new ballgame. Nevada got called for a foul on the rebound. Memphis hit the two shots, then blew the Wolfpack out of the gym.
Clean Elite Eight — gone. Clean Final Four — gone.
And now I root for Tennessee, the only team from that region I haven't seen picked to the Final Four. Even though I'm in first in my pool now (thanks to me being the only one to pick USC over Texas, plus picking UNLV over Wisconsin), a deep run by the Vols is the only way I stay in the hunt long-term. I swear I'm buying some orange body paint.
(Random Note No. 3: If you're astute/care enough to notice that some of the picks I'm referencing here are different than those of my preview column last week, it's because I changed some by the time I wrote my full bracket preview on my blog. I pulled back on Indiana and Texas, but pushed further ahead on Nevada and VCU. Check it out if you don't believe me.)
In the end, day four restored my faith in the tournament. Sure, a lot of upsets didn't come to fruition, but chalk has never been a winning strategy. Staying safe may get you to the top of the leader board early, but it's bound to take you down eventually. Take a lesson from my buddy Trick, a bracket virgin with all kinds of smart things to say when he was 6-0 mid-way through day one. He was happy and so excited for day two that he actually showed up at the bar early on Friday just so he could continue the fun. I kept telling him to relax. Being up early in a pool is like Belmont taking the lead on Georgetown. It's early. It'll turn. He didn't believe me, said I was just being a sore loser.
He's in seventh now.
Seth Doria is a communications expert living in St. Louis. At least he thinks he's an expert. For more, visit The Left Calf.
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