March Madness

I'm not going to lie.

This is pretty much exactly how it went down.

Except, instead of guys at work - it was a random text from Michael, the husband of one of Shelly's friends. He wanted to know if we wanted in on a bracket competition.

...and that's what real guys do, right?

I had five bucks in my wallet, so I had Shelly text back that I was in.


And then I remembered that I know NOTHING about sports.


I drove over to their house to pick up the bracket and called Kevin on the way, explaining my situation. After he got done laughing at me, he agreed to help.

Then I called my friend Nate, because he knows sports too.


I got this idea that if I could take my two most sports savvy friends and compile their two brackets - I might actually have a shot at winning.

And, more importantly - I would look like I knew what the hell I was talking about.


So after they sent me their brackets, I set to work.

I looked at their picks and one by one made my choices, balancing out their decisions into what I figured was one super bracket.


I got back in my car with my now filled-out paper and headed back across town to drop off my lie.


Do you watch The Walking Dead?

If you don't, there was a scene during the first season where the survivors figured out if they could cover themselves in zombie guts and walk around slow enough - the zombies would be none the wiser.


In the show, everything goes fine - the humans are able to move amongst the herd undetected - until misfortune sets in, and it starts to rain.


This liar's bracket was my zombie guts.


I got out of my car, paper in hand and marched up the steps to Michael's house, ready to drop off my bracket - to continue the lie for one more day that I was a "normal" male who knew what he was doing when it came to "normal" male activities.


He let me in the house, we exchanged pleasantries, and I handed him my sheet - beaming.

Only, things in life are never that easy.

He informed me that he was asking everyone who entered to pick a final score for the championship game in case there was a tie.


The rain set in.

My camouflage was running.


I stared at my bracket making my best deep thought face as I panicked internally.

First, I couldn't remember if basketball scores came in even or odd numbers. Thankfully, I remembered that it could be both.

Then, I couldn't remember if basketball was like soccer - and that the really great teams don't often score on each other because their defense is so sound.


So, I decided to play the middle.

I wrote something along the lines of "41-39" under the winning team's name, handed my sheet back - and walked out to my car.



Later that evening I recounted my story to Shelly and Kevin...

...and sat through their laughter as they both explained to me how ridiculously low my final score was.



I don't know if I kept the illusion that I can fit in amongst typical guys alive or not.

...I don't really even know if the illusion exists to anyone other than me.


Truthfully, I think my biggest fear is that I'm a clumsy human hobbling around amongst a group of zombies, blissfully unaware that they all know I'm not like them.


 - and that they all feel so bad for the work that I'm putting in to my zombie act that they've agreed as a whole not to eat me.