To the victor go the spoils.

Life has its' share of mysteries. For the sake of brevity (and my lack of creativity tonight) I'll only mention the latest anomoly. It has to do with a certain illness known throughout the country as (cue Boris Karlov type organ music) MARCH MADNESS. It's a vicious ailment afflicting even the innocent. Case in point--my wife. After gaining a victory over her bout with breast cancer last year (apparently her immunity was weakened) she came down with a full case of MARCH MADNESS. (In all fairness, it struck a total of 7 in our family.)

Over the past few years our son, Chad, has developed a family bracket and invited any and all to post a bracket. I've not had much success, but my sweet wife has participated, primarily to save my pride by allowing me to not finish last (O.K. I've been next to last most years). But this year....

We spent Spring Break in Nashville with Angela and her family. We grabbed the paper and Judy filled out a bracket on the plane. However, that bracket mysterously disappeared. Judy went on-line and completed a second bracket, taking time to analyze the teams. For some strange reason that bracket didn't post. So, not to be outdone by disappearing paper forms and uncooperative computer brackets she filled out a bracket FOR THE THIRD TIME. Again, she researched and selected.

The young men in our family are sports aficionados. They follow the teams and keep track of records and abilities. Judy doesn't do this. They watch the teams play and root for their favorites. Judy doesn't do this. They make their selections based on history and projections. Judy picks her favorites. Statistically the guys should mop up. Judy should not.

By now you've probably guessed that my sweet wife won the bracket. She took sole ownership of first place from day one and held on to that spot all the way through. In my usual style, I started in second place and ended up second to last. Which brings up the question of who finished last since my normal "cushion" moved to first? Of all things, it was our son-in-law who lives and breathes basketball--the Kentucky Wildcat fan of all fans, Chris.

Here's the mystery of the moment: how can a nonsport fanatic like my sweet wife, AKA Granna, whoop up on all the sports hounds and kick butt in the brackets? Perhaps we'll never know. But for now, Judy/Mom/Granna gets the spoils. WAY TO GO JUDY/MOM/GRANNA!!!