It’s that time of year again, folks! A time when you have to tie your hair back, sharpen your pencils, and make some tough choices. Yes, it is officially March Madness season—though not the kind you might be used to.
This year, as March approached and talks of the actual March Madness started circulating, we began to wonder if we’d once again get to shamelessly and shallowly pit men against each other, and to our luck, a new bracket was released this past week!
If I’m being totally honest, I have an easier time filing out a basketball bracket than I do with one like this. I like to think I live a pretty “don’t judge a book by it’s cover” kind of life, and so I find it hard (and mean?) “eliminating” people based on their looks.
I don’t say this sound noble, I say this to introduce you to my mind, which assumes that the choices I make in this bracket will have some sort of ripple effect on those associated with it. As if my choosing Michael B. Jordan over Joe Jonas in the first round will get back to Joe Jonas, causing him to feel such shame he cancels the Jonas Brothers’ Reunion. Or if my eliminating of Timothee Chalamet in the first round will prevent us from ever becoming best friends—though the sadness associated with that fact may help him finally win that Oscar (so you’re welcome, Timmy.)
Another obstacle I come across in these brackets is that I have to constantly remind myself that the whole point is to figure out who the hottest guy is. Going through each round, I’ll get hung up on, “but he’s so cute!” or “but he was so good in that one movie!” or “but he’s hilarious and that’s attractive” or “I’m being unfair, he’s a really nice guy!”
Now that I think about it, this really isn’t that different from how I fill out brackets for the actual basketball tournament. One year I chose teams based solely on their school mascots and how friendly the team seemed in interviews. (Which by the way, I almost won that year.)
So as you can imagine, with all of the ethical standards and uninvited emotional attachment to the men included on this year’s bracket, it took me a good chunk of time to fill it out. I put one guy through farther than any of my friends solely because he has a hand tattoo. Another guy made it through because “he can just pull off sweatpants and that matters for some reason.” And one guy was eliminated because, “I just can’t picture, you know, casually going to Target with him.”
Again, I’m really not cut out for these things.
At the end of the day, my winner was Noah Centineo, who I am unashamedly cougar-ing it up for. The dude is 22, I am 28. *shrugs* Sorry.
(No, really, I am sorry to everyone I eliminated.)
Among my friends, there were three back to back wins for Jason Momoa. So congrats, Aquaman, it sounds like there are plenty of fish in your sea.
I apologize for that one.