Editorial: Mad over schoolwork, mad for basketball

It’s an epidemic, not quite Bubonic in proportions, but
potentially fatal to an academic transcript. It has global reach,
from Compton to Cameroon, and it’s only just begun.

Yes, it’s official: March is here. Forget what the
calendar says, March only starts when you can pair it with the word
“Madness,” and it ends on April 3 in Indianapolis,
Ind.

And what a long, satisfying journey it’s been so far for
the Bruins.

It’s spanned from March 2003 ““ the end to that
embarrassment of a basketball season helmed by the now infamous
slickster Steve Lavin ““ to now, as they ride high as
definitive Pac-10 Champions into the NCAA Tournament. Under Coach
Ben Howland’s bruising, blue-collar playing style, the Bruins
have earned a 2-seed in the close-to-home Oakland Regional, and
they’ve gotten quite a few fans (including, we confess, some
members of this board) riled up right before the tournament.

Ready to clear your calendar, print your bracket, grab a beer
and cheer on our boys?

Hold on a sec.

Don’t forget about that seven-page anthropology paper. Or
those pesky art history and neuroscience finals.

Of course. It’s March ““ finals season. Clearly, the
guy in the back room who draws up UCLA’s academic calendar
didn’t think this one through.

Unlike other schools ““ where students are no doubt
relaxing in a poolside lawn chair during spring recess or enjoying
a mid-semester lull free of papers or exams ““ UCLA is
cramming, pulling all-nighters and cranking out papers during the
best collegiate sporting season of the year.

Instead of hopping in the car with foam fingers in hand, UCLA
students are driving to the store to get extra Red Bull for the
paper that’s due tomorrow.

And you know digging through the books to learn about 14th
century Armenia is cutting into your bracket research time. (Who
the heck is Iona, anyway?)

But in the epic battle between work and play, we’re really
tempted to take the rest of the month off. And we aren’t the
only ones. John Challenger, the chief executive of the job-search
firm Challenger, Gray & Christmas, estimates that this year
Americans will lose the equivalent of $3.8 billion in productivity
because of the NCAA Tournament. This is the great American way.

Seriously, is there anything more seductive than the siren song
of an empty bracket in March? Curves are no longer the rage: Give
us corners and the straight syphon of lines that whittle down the
teams with unrelenting justice. An empty bracket is a paradox, so
easy to fill out a 4-year-old could do it, so hard to get right
that certified experts routinely fail.

The bracket is the great equalizer, the mandate where every team
has a chance to beat everyone else. It’s democracy and
Darwinism rolled into one. Contest that theory if you will, but
remember that in March, there is only one shining truth: The
bracket marches on, with or without you.

So pardon us if for the next two weeks, we’re penning
predictions instead of notes. Forgive us if we’re burying our
noses in bracketology instead of biology. Excuse us if that term
paper we hand in has spreads scribbled in the margins, and if we
get more upset over an upset than our finals.

It’s not our fault. Blame the NCAA, blame CBS and ESPN,
blame the conspiracy of acronyms that put tournament time in the
middle of crunch time for classes.

Oh, this is silly, you grumble. Who cares about a silly game
where all you do is put a little orange ball in a little orange
hoop?

But we can’t hear you. We’re halfway out the door to
San Diego. Are you coming or staying?