Like most years, my father is preparing a steak dinner in early April. While the meal is not a classic tradition, our annual NCAA tournament bracket battle is.
The terms of the competition are simple: Who ever loses the bracket pool has to fix the winner a steak dinner with all the fixings. We’re talking BBQ steak, baked potatoes, mushrooms and onions, Caesar salad and a couple of brown sodas to wash it all down.
My poor father, bless his heart, is a sucker for an upset. So needless to say, he’s served up the steak the past two years. However, this season’s mano-a-mano tournament challenge turned into a triple-threat match.
After explaining the rules to my girlfriend, she was adamant about not only joining in on the friendly wager but destroying our brackets in the process. Since getting involved with me, she’s watched more college basketball than Dick Vitale. She’s even stood among 30,000 screaming fans for a few games this season.
I saw no harm in letting a third party get in on the tasty steak action. What’s the worst that could happen?
While filling out her bracket, she did need some help. She knew most of the field of 65 but had never heard of many of the mid-major programs. I gave her a bit of info on each team and she made her picks accordingly.
Well, it’s Final Four weekend and both my father and I no longer have a shot at claiming the bracket title belt. The wager was close for the first two rounds, however, it was the Sweet 16 and Elite Eight that erased all hopes.
She had 13 of the final 16 and seven of the final eight teams.
I know it’s not an incredible feat with the amount of top-seeded schools advancing deep in the tournament, but tell that to her. Whenever I make the point that it’s easy to pick all the best programs, she usually fires back with, “Well, if it’s so easy than why didn’t you do it?”. And she sometimes throws salt on the wound by adding, “Mr. Sports writer” if she’s tired of my bitching.
Her final pick of North Carolina to win the national title (-7.5 at
BetJamaica.com), which was made because she thinks Tyler Hansbrough is dreamy, could put the cherry on top of a very humbling sundae.
My folks are visiting from down south this weekend and there is a tray of succulent steaks nuzzled next to some mushrooms, salad and ice-cold Miller High Life in the fridge.
My steak-eating streak continues for a third straight year thanks to a second-place finish. But no matter how long the meat marinates or how much BBQ sauce I lather on, the meal will taste funny.
Like the taste of defeat.