The Deep End of the Pool

The NCAA Tournament is underway -- Day 2 of Round 1 is today -- and offices everywhere are filled with the sounds of would-be bracket bosses crumpling their selection sheets while Judy from Accounting laughs all the way to the bank because she made her picks based on which school's color schemes she liked the best. Every year at this time I hear the same question, again and again: Do you want to be in a pool? The answer, year after year since 1997, has been a resounding "No."

Let me explain. At Columbia University School of Journalism in the spring semester of 1998, my Sports Writing professor, Sandy Padwe, expressly forbade his students from any gambling of any kind while we were covering sports in his class. This included everything, even fantasy leagues. He kept tabs on us. Little did we know he was saving us. It just so happened the Feds raided a ring right off campus that spring and a number of students were nabbed, but none of Sandy's sportwriters.

Ever since then, having covered professional sports, I just can't bring myself to gamble. Not even to stick a quarter in a slot machine. I guess I just don't get it. I'd rather save the little money that I have.

The last time I did enter a pool was March of my senior year at Providence College. The Friars made the tournament that year and were the last team eliminated from the Elite Eight, falling to eventual champion Arizona. The Providence men's team I covered for "The Cowl" at the time -- Sandy hadn't educated me in ethics yet -- also happened to be the only one of my Final Four picks that didn't pan out. Karma, perhaps?