All around the basketball hoop
The Devil chased the Cardinal
The Cardinal missed a three-point shot
And pop went the Devil!
Dream: I filled out my bracket and won my bet with Mommy and Daddy that my picks would beat theirs. For my prize, I’m in Atlanta sitting courtside with my peeps rooting for my team in the Final Four. I’m sporting my team squeaks Mary Jane’s, an adorable cheerleader outfit, and my team-colored hair bow. No one cares that I’m up past my bedtime because it’s the most wonderful time of the year—March Madness!
Reality: I couldn’t sleep the other night. I heard Mommy and Daddy groaning so I know our team lost in the regional basketball tournament. The next day, my friends that have their own iPhones confirmed it was true (I wish I had my own iPhone but Mommy says not until pigs can fly…when will that happen? Oink!). Anyhow, it was a tough loss at a critical time but everyone makes mistakes—like when I fed puppy the homemade snack Mommy had spent so much time making for me. Okay, well maybe that was intentional, but you know what I mean. I just know they’ll perform better in the big dance.
In case you didn’t know, the NCAA tournament is a really big deal. Last year, Mommy and Daddy even changed my schedule, held off diaper changes, and did everything in basketball time…which is a lot longer than regular time.
A few days later, Mommy is feeding me dinner while Daddy is watching the Selection Sunday Special. I hear the analysts talking about who’s in and who’s out, but just want to know where my team will be seeded. I’m enjoying my fantastic grilled cheese when I hear the awful news of our seed and region. I immediately spit out the sandwich and vomit a little. Yes. I’m that disappointed. Mommy asks Daddy if it’s a coincidence. Daddy says no, recognizing my extreme fandom.
You see, basketball was one of the first things I was allowed to watch on the magic box. Daddy would have it on when Mommy went out. It was our little secret. At first, it was all about the cute, animal mascots. They made me squeal with delight! But then Daddy informed me about the skills in the game. Plus, I love watching the big kids run up and down the court and seeing the tricks they perform with the ball. Sometimes it looks like they’re flying through the air. I’ve tried to do it myself, but my buddy told me I need Air Jordans first. So I put them on my Amazon wish list.
Daddy even made the magic box come to life when we went to see a basketball game in person. We went with a few of my friends and their parents and it was all the rage. There were a gazillion people there and all sorts of magic screens filled with numbers and letters that I’m still learning. My older friends read us the numbers so we could keep score. We all wore our team apparel and clapped better than that old woman in the Clapper commercial. And we had everyone around us cheering and applauding, too. We were the cutest pint-sized fans ever.
Mommy and Daddy made a bet that day that if our team made it to the Championship in the “big dance” we could all go. The big dance sounded like so much fun. I have some great moves that I like to display when I hear my favorite tunes, including a cute booty bounce and a ride the pony move. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. I carry around my team bear and keep asking Mommy to put on my team squeaks shoes. I run around the house in them saying, “Go team!” but I’m not sure if Mommy and Daddy get it. And puppy just chases after my shoes like any other squeaky toy. Either he’s a bad fan or it’s true—he has a low IQ.
Between us, I even started a baby bracket pool. While all our parents think we’re speaking gibberish, I’m really briefing my pals on my Daddy’s sabermetrics system and convincing them that they want to be in my baby basketball pool. We argue over which mascots are cuter, which players are the coolest, and then apply Daddy’s analysis on top. And it works! I started taking in everyone’s brackets picks at play dates, at class, and at the playground. I stashed them in my Radio Flyer wagon and told puppy to guard them.
Now we just have to wait and see if it’s a Cinderella story (no, not the Disney princess kind!) or if the usual suspects will take the prize. I just hope my team keeps it together so my family can take a magical trip to the big dance. And if I make a few hundred bucks off my baby pool in the meantime, that would be an added bonus. Then I can finally buy those baby Air Jordans.
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