The smell of victory
That time of year is upon us once again. The days are longer; flowers are starting to push through the frozen tundra; and animals are starting to shake off the cold starkness of a cold winter. It's the time of year when a young man, such as myself, turns every waking thought to — college basketball. The NCAA men's college basketball tournament has always held a special place in my family's heart, and you're about to find out why.
When my wife and I were married many, many, many years ago, we thought that it would be fun to start a tradition of wagering on the tournament brackets. When I say wagering, I'm not talking about any money of any kind exchanging hands because in the catastrophic, unthinkable event of me actually losing, I'd have to ask her for a check to pay off my debt anyway.
No, our wager was to be based entirely on personal pride. The bet was that on the upcoming Easter Sunday, with our entire family present, the loser of the bet would have to announce, in front of everybody, that they were married to the smartest person in the world. It was a simple little bet that I had every intention of winning. I was finally going to get the recognition that I so richly deserved.
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