The relief of winning

There are two emotions that can come with winning a championship – joy or relief. Teams that are expected to win celebrate their victory with a sense of relief to have lived up to expectation; teams that are the underdog show unbridled joy in their win, free of the expectation.

In the 2011-2012 NCAA Men’s Basketball Championship, Kentucky was the unquestionable favorite; for the Wildcats, anything but a win would have been failure. In fact, their coach John Calipari said, “At Kentucky, we don’t hang up banners for conference championships.” The writing between the lines is clear – at Kentucky, anything less than a national championship is a failure.

In this game, Kansas was the clear underdog, with no one expecting them to make the championship. If not for the injury to Kendall Marshall, everyone expected North Carolina to be in the championship against Kentucky. So despite it being a game between the two winningest programs in NCAA basketball history, everyone expected the outcome to be as it was.

Kentucky was the best team in the nation, by far. With as many as six players who could go in the first round of the 2012 NBA draft, it would have been hard for any team to compete with the Kentucky thoroughbreds. Led by Anthony Davis, just the second freshman to be named player of the year (the other being Kevin Durant) and the consensus number one pick in the draft, Kentucky was a team that, on paper, might look like the Miami Heat – lots of talent, with some difficulty working together. But the Wildcats won this national championship not because of diva offense, but incredible defense and uncommon selfishness. And as much as many hate to admit it, it is the work of the much-maligned Calipari – he took a team of six great players and got them to put aside their egos for the better of the team.

The best team in the nation with the best players; of course Kentucky was going to win, right? It seems simple, but we know from years of watching March Madness that this isn’t always the case in college basketball. For instance, last year UConn and Butler played for the championship – were they the two best teams in the country? No. It takes winning six do-or-die games in a row, under extreme pressure, to win a national championship. A lot of things can muck that up, from bad shooting to key injuries. So it takes talent, and a little luck, to win the NCAA basketball title.

Kentucky had a dominant interior defense; a balanced and efficient offense and the most talented collection of players on the same the team that we’ve seen in years – maybe ever. So on Monday night, the Wildcats expected to win; they knew they were the better team, and they performed like it. They were so good that they won despite Davis only scoring six points. And you could see the relief on the players’ and coach’s faces when they celebrated – the relief of living up to expectations.

Rooting for Goliath

When given a choice, most people will root for David before ever cheering for Goliath. That is why I was in a strange situation on Sunday afternoon, when I was cheering for Kansas over Virginia Commonwealth University in the Elite Eight of the NCAA tournament. I was actively cheering for the number-one seed to beat the number-11 seed, an urban state school in Richmond, Va., that most people hadn’t heard of before the tournament. 

No, I wasn’t cheering for Kansas because of my bracket (though I did have the Jayhawks taking it all), but because I legitimately wanted Kansas to win. After they beat up on the ultimate David, the 16 seed and my Alma mater Boston University in the first round, I had to cheer for them. Plus, I feel as though I have a semi-vested interest because my brother is buddies with one of the Kansas starting-five.

Even as I cheered for the number-one seed, I felt like I was doing something fundamentally wrong. I was disgusted in myself as I cheered for the Jayhawks to come back from a double-digit deficit; as I stood on my feet when they pulled within two points; and as I wallowed in their defeat to “David.”

So why do we in the U.S. always cheer on David? Why would we all cheer against the programs that work hard to be the best, and put the time and money into being the best? 

Because we like to feel like anything is possible, that’s why. We like to watch a game and believe that VCU can beat Kansas, or Butler can beat the University of Pittsburgh. We want to believe that on any given day, anyone can win. That’s why we reveled in Appalachian State’s victory in football over the University of Michigan a couple of years ago, and VCU’s win on Sunday.

And there is no greater place to cheer on the underdog than in the NCAA tournament. It’s the only place where, on a regular basis, year-after-year, we see the lower seed team topple the higher-ranked team, where the less-known programs have a shot to topple the powerhouse programs. 

And this year is certainly no different, as for only the third time ever, no number-one seeded team reached the Final Four.

Of course in the Final Four, the two Davids left are playing each other, as VCU and Butler square off in the semis. This brings about a conundrum – if you are rooting solely for the underdog, then certainly the VCU Rams are the team to cheer for. But if you want to root for the team that has the best chance of beating the Goliath-division team – in this case, UConn or Kentucky – then you should probably cheer for Butler, the so-called underdog who lost in the championship to UNC last year.

In the end, I’ve jumped back on the David bandwagon and will be cheering on the underdog in the championship, whether it’s Butler or VCU. Because in the long run, there’s nothing any sports fan loves more than a Cinderella story.

Pick one league

I love to play fantasy football, that’s been well-established, and I’m certainly not the only one. However, I, unlike many other fantasy football junkies, have made the conscious decision to play in only one league.

There are many reasons for this, the last being time commitment. I’ve done the multiple-league thing, and it just got confusing and each week I was having multiple ethical dilemmas (no one needs that). It’s like filling out more than one NCAA bracket – it just isn’t right. You need to pick your one team and cheer for them.

The biggest reason I don’t play on more than one team is because of what my friend Steve was going through on Sunday. He has Adrian Peterson on his team in one league, and was playing against him in another league. So, do you cheer for him to do well, or to tank? In either case, one of your teams suffers. During the game he was torn – when Peterson scored, he jumped up in celebration, then remembered that he was also playing against him, and slumped down in his seat. I couldn’t help laughing at his visible internal struggle. He said he hoped Peterson would get “between 10-12 points, that way it helps me a bit when he’s on my team, and doesn’t hurt me too much in the other league.”

Peterson ended up with 26 points.

Fantasy has done a lot of good things for the NFL and its fans – people who play fantasy are now much more invested in the games they may have previously seen as throw-aways, and they are more likely to watch more games than they would have before fantasy sports hit the mainstream.

On the flip side, fantasy football (or baseball, hockey, etc.) has created a constant internal struggle in fans. Say you’re from Indiana and you’re a Peyton Manning fan – he’s the signal caller for your hometown team, so you always cheer for him to have a big game. But then, what happens when your fantasy team is playing against the team who has Manning as their quarterback? Fans like to say that – no matter what – they cheer for their team to win. But in that particular instance, you start thinking, “Well, if the Colts can win and Manning just plays mediocre, then it’s even better.” No fan should be torn like that.

But let’s add more to the situation. You’re that Indy native. Manning is your hometown team’s quarterback, and he’s also your starter in Fantasy League A. Oh, but in Fantasy League B, your quarterback is Matt Shaub and you’re playing against Peyton Manning. Now what? You need Manning to get points in the real game, and in Fantasy League A because your top running back and wide receiver are on by. But, if he gets too many points, then Fantasy League B will suffer, since there is now way that Shaub is going to match Manning in points this season.

Don’t you want to avoid that? Pick one fantasy league to throw yourself into. Sure, your chances of winning the league diminish when you only play in one league, but the thrill of victory will also be that much sweeter.

As for filling out multiple NCAA brackets – don’t be that guy. When you fill out more than one, not only do you forget who you picked in what pool, but it makes you the lame guy who doesn’t think he can accurately pick games, and has to rely on luck and odds. Yeah, you might win one of the seven pools you’re in, but considering how much money you had to front (assuming you were betting, which of course you aren’t since it’s not legal outside of Vegas), you really didn’t win much at all. And all you really did was lose your sport-fan cred.

Pick one team, pick one bracket, and stick with it. Stand behind your picks and lower the chance you have to cheer against your home team players. And when it comes down to it – always pick your real-life team over fantasy.