Throughout 67 games over three weeks, the NCAA tournament will hold a nation in its thrall because it’s why people watch sports: they’re unpredictable

There’s no sensible reason a college basketball tournament should hold a nation of 320 million in its thrall for three weeks every year, but it doesn’t take long to discover there’s very little that makes sense about March Madness. It’s right there in the name.

It’s an event that showcases a unique cross-section of America, from urban centers to outlying areas that go unrepresented by professional sports teams, brought together under one tent like nothing else in sports. And when it starts on Tuesday night with the first of four play-in games and in earnest Thursday with wall-to-wall hoops from noon to midnight, it will overtake the national sports conversation until the nets are snipped down at Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis on the first Monday of April.

There are 351 schools across 32 conferences in Division I – the top tier of America’s college sports hierarchy – from Abilene Christian to Youngstown State. Of those, the top quintile – the 32 league champions plus 36 “at-large” teams handpicked by the selection committee – have been invited to the greatest knockout competition in American sports. The format is simple: win or go home.

March Madness: follow the 2015 men's NCAA bracket Read more

This year’s field is a standard mix: public research institutions (Texas, Michigan State), private liberal arts colleges (Davidson, Belmont), historically black universities (Hampton, Texas Southern). There are Lumberjacks (Stephen F Austin) and Shockers (Wichita State), Great Danes (Albany) and Chanticleers (Coastal Carolina).



There are religious institutions representing the Jesuits (Georgetown, Gonzaga, Xavier), Augustinians (Villanova), Baptists (Baylor), Dominicans (Providence), Lasallians (Manhattan), Marianists (Dayton), Methodists (SMU), Vincentians (St John’s) and the Congregation of the Holy Cross (Notre Dame) – say nothing of the Mormons (Brigham Young).

The Buckeyes of Ohio State (enrollment: 58,322) will compete in the same regional as the Terriers of Wofford (enrollment: 1,608). Minnows like the Hampton Pirates (operating budget: $793,335) are up against powerhouses like the Louisville Cardinals ($15,653,605) that spend literally 20 times as much. Tradition-rich bluebloods like the Kentucky Wildcats (making their record 54th appearance), North Carolina Tar Heels (46th) and UCLA Bruins (45th) will be fighting tooth and nail alongside tournament debutants like the Buffalo Bulls, UC Irvine Anteaters and North Florida Ospreys.

Enter these 68 teams in a knockout format and there’s no telling what will happen. Unlike football where the big guy will beat the little guy 10 times out of 10, basketball is a sport where one hot shooter, one untimely injury or a whistle-happy referee can leave a heavily favored top seed scratching for its life. The better team doesn’t always win.

One of the primary appeals of college sports is a chance to get a first glimpse at the superstars of tomorrow. The NCAA tournament is a proven launchpad of legends: where a freshman named Michael Jordan canned the game-winning jumper to lift North Carolina to the title in 1982, or where Stephen Curry single-handedly spirited tiny Davidson to the Elite Eight in 2008. The 1979 championship game between Magic Johnson’s Michigan State and Larry Bird’s Indiana State drew the highest TV ratings for any basketball game in history, college or pro, and represented the opening chapter of a rivalry that defined an era.

But March Madness is even more about the one-hit wonders – the previously anonymous heroes who vanish from American life as quickly as they appeared – but whose cameos live on in our sporting consciousness. They go by names like Arceneaux and Lewullis, Pittsnogle and Farokhmanesh. Who can say which names will join their roll this year?

It’s about the moments. The last-gasp, coast-to-coast heroics of Danny Ainge or Tyus Edney. The pulse-pounding, buzzer-beating heroics of Tate George against Clemson, Bryce Drew against Ole Miss or Rip Hamilton against Washington.

Or what’s known simply as The Shot.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Christian Laettner’s buzzer-beater in the 1992 East Regional final capped what Sports Illustrated called the greatest college basketball game of all time.

It’s the joy of watching teams that haven’t had a whiff of national exposure all year – in some cases ever – suddenly thrust into the national spotlight. It’s the joy of watching kids geek out when they win, guileless and pure.

In many ways the tournament peaks early. The Thursday-to-Sunday opening stretch will see the field rapidly boiled down from 64 to 16 – a frenetic marathon of cutaway coverage and non-stop highlights often called the most entertaining four days in sports. You literally can’t be bored.

Any stigma associated with sports gambling is given a month-long exemption. Office pools take over and workplace productivity plummets as cubicle drones nationwide find creative ways to follow the action. Never mind perfection – there are 9,223,372,036,854,775,808 permutations in the tournament bracket – it’s all about water-cooler bragging rights.



All this taps directly into the mainline of why people watch sports: they’re unpredictable.

And in the case of March Madness, wildly so.

The only thing we know for certain is chaos will ensue. A school you couldn’t find on a map will eliminate one of college basketball’s traditional powers. A player whose name you’ve never heard will become a household name, if only until April. Your carefully selected bracket will be up in flames by the end of the first weekend.

Sixty-eight teams. Sixty-seven games. Three weeks. One champion. Let the games begin.