Greetings, readers! This is your semi-dazed editor here with an informative and indecent guide to March Madness. You all know that there are two kinds of March Madness: enthusiasm for the NCAA men’s basketball championship on the one hand, and on the other, a very specific seasonal affective disorder for people who really hate St. Patrick’s Day and/or National Women’s History Month. While the latter disorder is much more fun to study (considering March is also National Brain Injury Awareness Month,) it’s the former that truly plagues our school.

Now, you will find no bigger fan of Hoya basketball than me. If it wasn’t for my parents threatening to stop paying my tuition if I didn’t attend at least half my classes per week I’d be permanently camped out outside the Verizon Center, spending my nights singing our fight song with Hustlin’ Joe, the guy who sleeps at the foot of the Metro escalator. He’s the best! But that’s the regular season. In the winter, while you’re all off studying for a test or reading a book because “it’s Tuesday morning and we’re really worried about you,” I’m outside freezing to death and representing our school.

But as soon as March rolls around, everyone puts on blue and gray and cheers like excited monkeys, crowding out the guy who actually went through the trouble to get a Jack the Bulldog tramp-stamp. Meanwhile, I’ve lost my status as a full-time student, Jack on My Back(side) is infected, and Hustlin’ Joe got busted by the po-po for shanking a judge.

What I’m trying to say is that you’re all hypocrites! It shouldn’t be March Madness; it should be Year-Round Madness. Hustlin’ Joe can’t stop being bipolar so you should never stop obsessing over our beloved basketball team. Memorize our bracket schedule, harass our opponents, “fix” their teams’ buses. There’s only one championship, and we must all do our part. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to serve as a human dumbbell for the players. They give me their used towels as payment.