The NCAA Tournament. The Big Dance. March Madness.

It’s three weeks of hyperbole and insight and excitement and for 11-months out of the year we forget that it’s the most glorious goddamn pirate whore of a bitch with the heart ripping tenacity of a deft surgeon using a rusted saw to open your chest cavity only to let it beat with a few additional thumps of hope before giving you permission to die.

Here, this is the tournament we love: