March Madness is the basketball equivalent of romance. Think about it. Both are filled with clichés like announcers trying too hard to make jokes out of mascot names, “Looks like a championship was in the CARDS for Louisville this year!” or, your significant other promising “out of all the fish in the sea, you’re the one for me.”

OK, vomit. 

Both are sensationalized in the media. All sports fans hear about from late November to early April are the odds of making the tournament, strength of schedule, conference domination and then finally, finally, the actual tournament itself.

Isn’t it the same with relationships? It’s all hype. Finding someone as weird as you are is a big deal. It’s winning the lottery. It’s the ultimate goal in life. Or maybe we think this way because that’s what movies, books and songs preach over and over again. So if there were no bracket challenges or television shows devoted to the tournament, would we still feel the same way about it? 

There are a couple of stages implicit in both March Madness and the idea of romantic relationships that almost makes this comparison too easy.

The beginning

It starts with butterflies. You found a new guy or girl that strikes your fancy. That early phase is the best part. Possibility — that’s the key. You tell all your friends about how you hope it will turn out, and the optimism flooding from that promise of potential can rival that of a Cubs fan before the season starts.

A rabid college basketball fan will experience those same feelings when filling out their bracket before the tournament. You have your favorite team, the one you desperately want to go all the way. And hey, maybe they will. The possibility is there, after all.  

The excitement leading up to the first game is the best and worst at the same time. It’s like waiting for the first date. You don’t really know the character of your team until you see how they perform under pressure, and the NCAA tournament? Yeah, that’s pressure. 

As a fan, you can’t sit still. The nerves are out of control. “They just need to play defense.” “Coaching has to be spot on.” “I need to wear my lucky jersey.” “Which one is the dinner fork again?” The first game and first date are one and the same. You don’t really know what you have until you take that preliminary step and test the waters. 

Dancing 

Congratulations, the awkward part is over. Too bad it just gets harder from here. Welcome to the Big Dance, the largest and most intimidating stage in college basketball. The transition from opening matchups to the Sweet 16 and beyond is scary. All of a sudden, every team has championship-caliber talent. Selection Sunday and the rounds of 64 and 32 were warm-ups. They were the first couple of dates, used to feel out that person you were so excited about. Either they were a dud of a first round exit, lookin’ at you Wisconsin, or they’ve got the potential to. Go. All. The. Way.

The final stretch

And some do. They win it all. In spite of injuries, bad calls, comebacks and exhaustion, one team gets to cut down the nets and reign supreme over the cultural Goliath that is the world of college basketball.

While I’m not sure this feeling of ultimate supremacy can translate to the dating world, the hoops — pun intended — one might have to jump through to find someone worthwhile can be extensive. Either you score that game-winning bucket, or you fall short in the final minute because your date actually admitted to liking Nickelback.

As for my bracket, I took the Badgers to win it all. If their first round loss to Ole Miss is any indication of my personal dating future, I’m praying for new prospects. Next year, it’s all No. 1 seeds for me.  

Aryn is a junior in LAS. She can be reached at [email protected]. Follow her on Twitter @ArynBraun.