Winning My NCAA Tournament Pool

By CHARLIE SHEEN
One Great Season

March Madness? Let me just say this about March Madness: I don't believe the term is good enough, but when you're bound by these terrestrial descriptions, you must use the best choice available, right?

So if you think about it, dude, it's like you're always 1 for 4 picking 12 seeds in the first round just to be that guy who tells everyone he totally called it. Don't be that guy. To sully or contaminate or radically disrespect the spirit of gambling just for the sake of first-weekend Cinderella moxie dick-measuring with a shameful bracket is something that I will leave to the amateurs and the potato-brained wanks who liked my television show.

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And I just gotta add this cuz there was a whole firestorm Friday about this being the weakest year ever for bubble teams and all of them suck like never before and let me just say this, this is all I'm gonna say about it: where there were four, there are now three. Goodbye Illinois, good luck in your travels, you're going to need it, badly.

No, the Illini are not there now and we are and, I don't know, winning, anyone? Rhymes with winning, anyone? That'll never be Illinois. Man, didn't make the rules. Illinois never wins anything in anything. Men's tennis maybe. No one cares. Ooops.

With the teams actually in the dance, Kemba Walker might be nails, but Jimmer Fredette is frickin bayonets, you know. Nolan Smith is battle-tested, man. Jon Leuer's tired, he's so tired of pretending like Wisconsin basketball isn't boring or bitchin and not winning every second and Bo Ryan's not perfect and dealin' with it and bitchin and just delivering the cheese at every frickin turn, because, look what he's dealing with man, he's been dealing with Izzo and Matta, dealing with soft targets and it's just, you know, it's just strafing runs in his underwear before his first cup of coffee because he doesn't have time for these clowns.

Wisconsin's an early out, man. Purdue's an early out. UConn and BYU will hang around awhile. There are exceptions and there are rules and they're beautiful and they're real and boom, that's what it is.

I don't have time for bubble teams and their stupidity and you know they lay down with their fat RPIs made from their crap schedules and look at their dozen losses and then they punt in the first round and they say "I can't process it," well, no, you never will stop trying, just sit back and enjoy the show. You know? You got into the dance, but now it's Friday night. You gotta leave. Let the high seeds do this now. You go home and you watch and you hate and you learn and you absorb.

Boom, that's the whole bracket, that's March. That's March, there's nobility in that, there's focus, it's genuine, it's crystal and it's pure and it's available to everybody. So just shut your traps and go with the teams with the McDonald's All-Americans, your high seeds, your ESPN bracketology and focus on what's in front of you. Small numbers are good. High seeds are not good, not this year, not with this bunch. But you can't focus on things that matter if all you've been is asleep for 40 years. Funny how sleep rhymes with sheep, you know? Anyway, we're getting off-topic. We shouldn't care anymore about picking Cinderellas, we don't care. Let's get to the work business because there's been a lot of speculation, a lot of rumors. Imagine that with the media. Clinging to bad teams just because it's something new to talk about. Sheep. All of them, especially that screamy bald one on ESPN. Someone should hit the mute button on that guy and then smash it so it stays off.

I'm going right straight to Houston with one seeds, man. Do that. I'm excited to get back to winning and to completely discount these bubble teams that got in by the skin of their asses, but if you bring up these turds, these little terminal losers, there's no reason to then, you know, bring them back into the fold because they have no real fans, they have nothing. They have zero. They have fleeting hope and three days of campus boners before reality punches them in the groin.

They have that night and Duke, Pittsburgh, Ohio State, they'll forget about them as their last image of them exits the dance the first weekend and they will get out there and they will sell themselves as contenders and they will lose. And they will lose the rest of their lives as they think about March and this tournament the rest of their lives, so, bring a challenge somebody, because, you know, it just ain't there for bubble teams this year. Winning.

Well yeah but I'm tired of being told "well you can't just pick the better seed each round and you can't just give the points" BULL S-H-I-T. Let me just say this, there's nothing. I just think it's deplorable that a certain Bruce Dean-Frederick Pearl — that's his real name, by the way — mistook this rock star for his own selfish exit strategy bro. Check it Bruce, you embarrassed yourself in front of your children and the world by lying at a pace that your uninvolved mind cannot process. OK, last I checked, Bruce, Coach K has spent, I think, I don't know, the last three decades effortlessly and magically converting pasty, hateable pantywastes into title teams. Clearly he's someone who believes he is above the law. Well, you've been warned, dude. Bring it. Coach K gets to Houston with his great, good and average teams. Winning.

It's yeah, it's an understatement, you know, it's, I'm sorry man, I got magic and I got poetry at my fingertips most of the time and this includes naps. Duke is an F-18 and will destroy you in the air and they will deploy their ordnance to the ground. Duke. Winning.

Sheen, Winning, Tigerblood and This Ghostwriter