What? Nobody picked Butler or Michigan State to win the title? Shocking.

Sean gets the gold star for being the only person with Sparty or the Dogs in the Final Four. (Only two brackets even had Butler in the Elite 8.) No love for the 5-seeds, I guess.

With the left side of the bracket completely finished, here’s a look at the scenarios remaining. (Three people have Duke in the final and two people have West Virginia. Championship game outcome doesn’t matter at this point):

Duke beats West Virginia: Tim P. wins with Dirk in second.

West Virginia beats Duke: John P. wins and Andy P. gets second.

Full leaderboard here. And I’m still waiting on money from most of you, so pay up.

No basketball on Friday, so we golfed and shopped in the morning, then hung out at ESPN in the afternoon. Got the tour then sat in on a taping of SportsNation. Pretty sweet.

Today before the games, we drove to Rhode Island to check out Flo’s Clam Shack (a famous little hole in the wall) and found our new favorite town. Hello, Newport.

Watching four live basketball games in one day is hard. Almost too hard. So it helps when:

1. You get yelled at the minute you get into town by an angry local pedestrian who was almost hit while crossing the street illegally.

2. While searching for parking (any parking) you find a toothless guy with three spots left. Literally steps from the front door.

3. You get interviewed by a reporter from the local paper who’s impressed that you’ve made the trip all the way from Nebraska without a team to root for. (Watch for our story and photos in Friday’s Providence Journal. OK, maybe no photos. Story here.)

4. The first game of the day, which should be a blowout, nearly ends up as one of the biggest upsets in tournament history. You instantly become a Robert Morris fan.

5. Get to decide which mascot is creepier: Richmond’s four-legged red “spider” or the St. Mary’s dude who’s a dead ringer for the Geico caveman.

6. After asking the guys in front of you why they’re passing money back and forth each time there’s a dead ball, you win two bucks playing the greatest basketball gambling game ever.

7. Oh yeah. Game 3 is a 14-seed over a No. 3. And game 4 goes down to the last shot.

Helge’s finalizing the updates to the online bracket and I’m getting ready to send out the invitations to the 2010 version of the pool. In the mean time, remind yourself of the rules and send in suggestions for this year’s “official” sponsor. Last year: Bernie Madoff. (I’m thinking Tiger Woods is as good a choice as any, but I’ll listen to other opinions.) Newcomers are always welcome, assuming you’re not going to report us to the feds. That’s just mean.

I’ll be collecting brackets through Thursday morning by email or carrier pigeon. So get in touch if you’re interested. I’ll add a link to the online bracket as soon as it’s finalized.

[436 Bracket challenge]

Three weeks, three fish frys (fries?) Here’s the rundown:

Holy Name: BOYC (that’s Bring Your Own Cooler) and don’t forget the hand warmers; food sucks, but this one’s really not about the food, is it?

Lourdes: Get the mac and cheese and a side of fries. Then sit at the lucky table near mid-court in the back and buy a bunch of raffle tickets. Steaks for a week!

Sons of Italy: No line to get in, which, after you’ve been to the others, is a definite bonus. Also, good spaghetti and $2 beers. But bring some extra change if you’re not a Miller Lite fan. You have to pay an extra quarter for a rum and Coke.

And, since we’re getting to the point where wasting entire evenings in random bars is a painful (the next morning) reminder of our advancing age, we’re starting a Tuesday night drinking club. 6 or 6:30 p.m at an untested Omaha watering hole. Next week: Boiler Room in the Old Market. Future stops on the tour include Louis’ in Benson and the Trackside Lounge. M’s Pub will be on the list at some point, too. It’s practically a family tradition.

Name: BEN VANKAT
Event: MALE
Time: 8:47
Overall Place: 396 of 1126
Place in Gender: 311 of 524
Place in Age Division: 104 of 156

Luckily they didn’t include “Time behind brother”, “Times stopped for water” and “Amount of time spent wishing he had just been a volunteer”.

Managing editor walks over by my desk with two coats slung over his shoulder.

Me: Hey there. What’s with the coats?
Him: Oh, nothing. Just holding the mayor’s coat. He’s in the bathroom.

Then Jim Suttle comes out and they go to lunch.

Mom and Dad called us tonight to meet for some drinks at the Homy Inn after dinner. And, while they were waiting for us, they struck up a conversation with a guy sitting at the bar.

Friendly guy, a little intoxicated. He added talked Dad’s ear off and hit on Mom for a while before finally getting up to leave. But before he walked out, he gave one of the greatest drunken speeches I’ve ever witnessed.

He went on and on — probably three minutes — about how in love the two of them seemed. No matter what happens in the universe, they were always meant to be together, he said. (Which of course led both Mom and Dad to make a wisecrack about trying to get rid of the other.)

Here’s the guy’s kicker, directed at Mom. A classic:

“Even if you die and he’s still alive, you’ll still be together eventually, happily ever after. It’s just meant to be. You can both live on in another life in another universe. He’ll be the horse’s ass and you’ll be the jockey.”

And with that, he bid us adieu (no really, he bid us adieu!) and walked out the door.

This is where I should have included the animated GIF of a dumptruck driving across the screen. Under construction.

If you’re reading this, you’ve probably arrived at the new, WordPress version of the blog. It’s a behind-the-scenes change, but a pretty big one, so there will probably be some headaches with old links and bookmarks. Also, if you typically get updates through an RSS reader, there’s a new address for that, too. Make sure you switch your subscription over to one of the new options …

http://benvankat.com/blog/feed/rss
http://benvankat.com/blog/feed/atom

Let’s hope this works … Email me if there’s trouble.

Saints win. Good job, man.