Though now a licensed trademark, the phrase “March Madness” dates back to a 1939 essay in Illinois Interscholastic magazine. In describing the fervent atmosphere of Illinois’ state basketball tournaments, athletic administrator H.V. Porter likened it to a kind of mania:
[He] lives to the utmost during March when a hundred thousand pairs of rubber soled shoes slap the hardwood in a whirlwind of stops and pivots and dashes on the trail to the state basketball championships. He is a glutton for punishment. When the March madness is on him, midnight jaunts of a hundred miles on successive nights make him even more alert the next day.
Decades later, television broadcaster Brent Musburger, who had attended Northwestern University just north of Chicago, used the expression “March Madness” on air and forever transformed the image of the NCAA Division I Men’s Basketball Tournament. It was no longer just a sports tournament but a festive season akin to Carnival—a time of costumed attire, strange rituals, and transgressive morality (midday drinking, the infamous “Boss Button”). This transformation was christened, as it were, on March 30, 1987, when CBS concluded its tournament coverage with the song “One Shining Moment.” Written by Michigan-based songwriter David Barrett, and subsequently recorded by legendary singers such as Teddy Pendergrass and Luther Vandross, “One Shining Moment” is an almost Kierkegaardian reading of “March Madness,” imbuing the tournament’s trials and triumphs with timeless significance:
“It’s more than a contest / it’s more than a race,” Barrett sings. Indeed, the NCAA tournament is a hierophany. In the midst of time, the eternal can appear—what Kierkegaard calls “the moment” (Øieblikket, literally “the blink of an eye”) in his philosophy.
Hence, in spite of its ‘80s pop-synth production and hackneyed lyrics (“the road is long,” “you always did your best”), Barrett’s song unlocks the inner meaning of “March Madness.” Whereas “madness” is frequently associated with insanity, “March Madness” bears different connotations. In truth, what attracts people to the tournament is the “miraculous”—a word that has its roots in the Latin verb mirari (“to wonder at,” “to be astonished”). When a modest team like St. Peter’s defeats a powerhouse like Kentucky—the biggest upset of yesterday’s tournament action—it is not an irrational or an insane event. Anyone who watched Kentucky struggle against the Peacocks’ matchup zone can attest to this fact. But such occurrences are astonishing and, in an important sense, revealing (Mk 8:22-26, Jn 2:11). They are signs that disclose the mysteries of human existence—that power and might are not solely determinative of earthly success, that the humble virtues of faith and love are capable of victory, however fleeting in a fallen world. Tournament basketball manifests these “miracles” in a way that the NBA, with its long season and playoff series, simply cannot. In the classic basketball movie Hoosiers (1986), based on the surprising 1954 tournament run of Indiana state champion Milan High School, one of the pivotal scenes centers on the biblical story of David and Goliath (1 Sam 17:1-53):
As he wraps up the pregame scouting report, the team’s coach Norman Dale (Gene Hackman) intimates that, by any normal reckoning, his squad should not win this game. The players know it too. Yet, they have resolved to try anyway, trusting that something astonishing will occur. They are not insane but hopeful. While time typically unfolds in cold linearity, they all understand that, in the blink of an eye, it can be disrupted and filled with wonder. Ultimately, then, “March Madness” is more than a rowdy festival; it is a quest for transcendence.
Only a true fan could write so beautifully about the miracle of sports.
Nevada had a bad year. 8th in Mountain West. I guess we miss losing Musselman who is doing great things at Arkansas. Go Villanova.