Every March I fill out a bracket. You might fill out 25, but I’m a firm believer in keeping the purity in “bracketology,” so I only fill out one. After all, you only need one to win the million dollars. Every March I fail, but every March I write an article in our beloved publication, about the weirdest, and most ironic names of the NCAA tournament.
The best players in college basketball may only play in gyms across our country, but a look at their names takes us on a trip around the globe. Mark French doesn’t play in France, but College Station. Florida State’s Braian Angola isn’t from the coastal African country, but Colombia, and the only windmills in the mind of Radford’s Devonte Holland are windmill dunks.
Jared Vanderbilt doesn’t play at Vanderbilt, rather for SEC rival Kentucky. DJ Hogg never yelled “Woo Pig,” he’s a “Gim ‘Em” guy through and through.
The names you’ll hear this March are noticeably religious. San Diego State’s Malik Pope leads the (T.J.) Holyfield of 68, along with Brandon Francis of Texas Tech. Michigan State’s Joshua Langford might not have had to fight the (Tyus) Battle against Texas’ Jericho Sims, but (Kodi) Justice would have definitely been served.
Two of the country’s most dominant Catholic programs, Xavier and Gonzaga, feature names from Paul Scruggs to Silas Melson. That’s something Loyola’s Sister Jean could appreciate. Speaking of Loyola, college basketball gives us history lessons. Clayton Custer hasn’t had his last stand yet, after a thrilling buzzer beater to beat Tennessee, but the real Custer’s life came to an end at Little Big Horn in the great state of Montana, which is also the last name of three-point weapon Max, of the San Diego State Aztecs.
Certain coaches even have certain philosophies; from the Boeheim zone defense, to the run and gun style of Marshall’s Dan D’Antoni. But one thing holds true in basketball, and Miami’s JaQuan Newton knows it best, that when the ball goes up, it has to come down.
College basketball reestablishes lessons we learned from our parents during childhood. Not just sportsmanship and fair play, but also being (Shaka) Smart and (Anthony) Polite. Some parents in the stands even had fun with double letters when they named their little dribblers Isaac Haas and Killian Tillie.
March Madness glues our (LeRoy) Butts to our couches as we (Kristian) Doolittle, but watch the games unfold and become (Tyler) Widem[e]n. We also consume food full of Fatts (Russell) for our Tum Tum[s] (Nairn Jr.).
Speaking of food, March saw the Buffalo Blue Bulls upset the Arizona Wildcats in the first round, proving that (Nick) Perkins is a superior breakfast spot to (Talbot) Denny[‘s].
There are names that can stymy even the well-versed basketball mind of CBS’s Jim Nantz, from Jayhawk sharp-shooter Sviatoslav Mykhailiuk to St. Bonaventure’s Tshiefu Ngalakulundi. On the contrary are names that are more (Dalton) Dry, like Lipscomb’s Greg Jones.
March madness has it all. It somehow always, yet never disappoints. So, if your bracket is nearly perfect, good for you. If it isn’t, like mine, you might as rip it up and bury it in the (Jayvon) Graves.
