Lenten ‘madness’ can make us all better

The fight for spiritual growth is harder when the opponent is ourselves

By George Valadie

I love “March Madness.” Our whole family does. If you’re not familiar, it’s a phrase that originated at the high-school level, but once uttered on national TV has since become synonymous with the season-ending NCAA men’s and women’s basketball championship tournaments due to begin any day now.

With games scheduled over three consecutive extended weekends (Thursdays through Mondays) at arenas across the country, fans and non-fans alike host and attend watch parties on the weekends as well as finding ways to clandestinely tune in during the work week.

And I’m not talking about stealing a few minutes here and there. According to a 2024 study, employers lost close to $17.3 billion in workplace productivity during last year’s men’s tournament alone.

That’s a lot of sneaky minutes.

The NCAA likes it that way. The more eyes they can get to watch, the more sponsor and broadcast rights money they earn with reports of having taken in over $1 billion last year from these three weeks alone.

So, the NCAA is happy to be complicit in our cheating. For years they have even included a “Boss Button” on their streaming platform so that one quick click when your supervisor is approaching will switch your computer screen from the basketball game you’re watching to something that appears to be work—fake spreadsheets, fake e-mails with the latest version looking like and even referred to as BossGPT.

Employers aren’t the only ones losing money. Fans wagered almost $2.7 billion last year alone. Not all of them won.

I’m guilty.

I’ve been known to log in to my laptop and have wagered an annual $20 bill or two on a bracket challenge, trying to pick the eventual national champions.

For the typical sports fan, this is all kind of a big deal—136 teams, 134 games, seven rounds, three weekends, two tournaments, two champions.

And seriously, even if you know nothing about basketball, you should still take a shot (pardon the pun). Among other incredible contests, Quicken Loans and its insurer, Berkshire-Hathaway (Warren Buffett), have been known to offer a $1 billion prize if you can pick a perfect bracket.

Fill it in, send it in, buy a yacht.

It’s just that no one ever has.

And that might be exactly why people love this stuff. The teams that are supposed to win don’t always do so. Both tournaments are packed full of “madness,” which artfully describes what happens every time an underdog pulls off the unthinkable.

Records reveal it doesn’t happen all that often. In most of these basketball tournaments, there might only be 10 upsets across the 67 games played. An average of eight, sometimes as few as three.

But they do happen. And you never know when.

The unexpected miracle.

The unlikely hero.

The I-can’t-believe-that-just-happened comeback by a team that everyone had buried for dead.

It messes with your betting bracket, but it sure is fun to watch. Some team steals a shocking win, and the country jumps on their bandwagon, hoping they can do it again and again. A hoped-for modern-day “Hoosiers” team winning the biggest title on the biggest stage.

As it sometimes has in the past, this year’s tournament falls smack in the middle of Lent. I don’t think the two are at odds with one another, but if you’re a wings-and-beer sort of fan, your Fridays will take a hit for sure.

And after all, Knights of Columbus free-throw contests still happen all across the country, and Catholics practically invented bingo, didn’t we?

Not to mention, we can also claim our own fair share of underdog stories: David vs. Goliath, Moses vs. Pharaoh, Gideon’s 300 vs. the Midianites’ 3,000, Jonah vs. the whale.

That’s before we ever get to Jesus vs. the unbelievers—one individual who stood against much of the entire world. And He actually did come back from the dead.

We’ve talked about these people ever since. Held them up as models, examples of what can happen with the “faith of a mustard seed,” real people inspiring us to tackle our own challenges, though the odds don’t favor our outcome.

Most would agree Lent isn’t often so life and death; in fact if we’re doing it right—it’s much more about seeking spiritual growth. Doing something we don’t normally do in an effort to become someone we not normally are.

But could be. And want to be.

In an odd and ironic sort of way, though, we most often find ourselves the underdog in an ongoing battle against our fiercest and most headstrong foe: ourselves.

Perhaps we’re not kind enough, maybe we don’t pray enough, certainly we don’t share enough. But there’s no one out there causing us to be this way—no one responsible for the choices we make and those we don’t.

It’s just us vs. us. The hardest fight of all.

These days of Lent can be our moment on the big stage. When we have a real chance to win the battle pitting the self we long to be with the self we have become comfortable being.

A priest friend offered this thought: “Lent’s coming up. Giving up Sprite or Milk Duds is OK, I guess, if you’re in third grade.”

Ouch! So, it might take a little more hard work to get where we’re trying to go.

The excitement of March Madness happens every time the victor overcomes the odds. Why can’t it be us this time?!

Dear God—Our 40 days were inspired by your 40 days, though we have watered ours down a bit. May we at least fight as hard as you did. Amen.

 

George Valadie is a parishioner at St. Stephen Church in Chattanooga and author of the newly released book “We Lost Our Fifth Fork … and other moments when we need some perspective.”