Collegiate Times

Filling out a bracket seems like all fun and games right now.

It's the rage for the next two days. Friends compare brackets, discuss their sleepers and glow with excitement over whether March Madness will unfold in their favor.

For about 95 percent of them it won't.

Practically all of us will see our bracket wither over time, eliminated from contention by cruel mathematics.

How long can hope remain part of the equation for winning the pool? How long will you have a shot at holding bragging rights over all your friends?

Most will go through the stages of madness, which usually end with ripping up our brackets in the shower while crying, stumbling out of the Cafe at Champs crying or watching the CBS Sports.com Webcast during class and trying to avoid curling up in the fetal position.

Stage One: Elation

Take last year, for example.

After 10 consecutive hours spent locked in my room with The Washington Post and laptop at my disposal, I was invincible.

A kaleidoscope of Web pages featuring college basketball statistics dominated my computer screen. Two cups of coffee electrified my psyche. A clean, finished bracket validated my understanding of the madness.

I finished last place in my own pool.

Each spring my emotional wellbeing will rely on this sheet of paper, and I invest all the time and creative thought necessary to play genius for a month.

During this stage it's impossible to tell whether you're experiencing bracket myopia, as the No. 1 and 2 seeds that are supposed to fall early haven't disappointed yet.

Stage Two: Glass Half Full

So what if you lost a Sweet 16 team or two on the first day? You've still got your sleeper Final Four pick, say Purdue, waiting in the bullpen. You'll let the painful first-round exits go without a sweat because you're still hanging in striking distance of your pool's leader.

Perhaps you picked the upset that wasn't. Chris Lofton's fall-away three-pointer to beat Winthrop three years ago hurt if you had No. 2 Tennessee collapsing in the first round. Ohio State guard Ron Lewis' deep bomb to tie Xavier in 2007 may've ruined your No. 8 over No. 1 upset, but it's only a bump in the road.

As long as you make it out of the first weekend without half of your bracket's Final Four demolished, consider yourself in decent shape and with plenty of room for a rally.

Stage Three: Denial

Maybe Butler wasn't the Elite Eight team you thought it was. Unfortunately, this realization came after several missed layups in overtime annihilated a coveted No. 7 over No. 2 pick. What separates this from the "Glass Half Full" stage is that it all starts to pile up.

Last year, Butler and Georgetown went kablammy on my Final Four late Sunday afternoon, rushing me from stage two to three in the span of 15 minutes.

You might utter phrases to yourself such as, "No way my bracket's gonna fail." You might yell at random strangers, "I spent way too much time on this bracket to lose now."

To distract the mind, you might even study.

Stage Four: Shock and Bitterness

This part usually ends with the "bracketologist" leaving the living room to cry in the shower after a key Final Four or championship pick falls. Upon seeing the plummeting point potential I - errrr - "the bracketologist" could be seen ripping a sheet of paper to shreds on the corner of Roanoke Street and Main yelling, "Why bracket, why?"

He'll be fine; he just needs some time. If you're his friend, keep him away from SportsCenter for at least a day.

Some people remain in this stage well into the next March, as evidenced by involuntary cringing at the mention of "Davidson," "Curry," "Wacky headlines" or "Unconscious." They may say things such as, "I wasted 10 hours of my life." When they no longer really mean it they've advanced to ...

Stage Five: Acceptance

"Next year will be better, I'll spend a whole 72 hours on it."

Now that's the spirit. You're ready to enjoy March Madness again. Hopefully most of you have experienced this feeling by earlier this week, or you've run out of time to capitalize on the art of research.

Join the legions clamoring together to slow Google's server, make fun of your friend's failures and brag right until the bitter end.