It’s that time of the year again, March Madness! To be honest, before I won my office bracket in 2019 I didn’t really get excited about basketball. To me it was just like that game where street performers put a ball under a cup, and while you’re trying to guess where it is they take your wallet. The ball is just so hard to keep track of! Also, the player’s shorts are too long.

But, since realizing that I’m some sort of prodigy (I mean, no one even won the office bracket last year), I’ve changed my tune. Some say I got lucky, but I think they’re just jealous. I’m not lucky (obviously, since I keep getting robbed by those damn street performers), I have a system. And I’m sharing it with you because not only am I the Einstein of brackets, I’m also the Mother Theresa.

Pick teams with orange as one of their colors.

Why? Because, look at me. I’m a goddamn March Madness sensation. Questioning me is like questioning God. Do you question God? I didn’t think so.

Ha, totally kidding. It’s because orange doesn’t rhyme with anything, and neither does victory. Basically. There’s just no way that’s a coincidence. Plus, one time I choked on an orange and when I spit it out it landed on my scratch-off lottery ticket and I won five dollars. So, yeah. If you want to win, make sure your Sweet Sixteen looks like a bad spray tan.

If you’re banned from the city, don’t advance the team.

This one is super straightforward. If you’re banned from a city, that city clearly doesn’t know how to party and doesn’t deserve a place in your bracket. Yeah, I’m talking to you Cincinnati, you piece of shit city. Don’t move them forward unless you want your Final 4 to be a huge snooze fest.

Likewise, if an ex-boyfriend is from that city, eliminate the team.

Fuck Houston (and Justin Marzicone). They should be D4 and they should rot in hell.

Name every team without taking a breath.

Just start from the top and go randomly down the list. The name you pass out on from lack of oxygen is who wins the tournament. It’s weird but, hey, I don’t make the rules, I just play the game. And I fucking win it.

Eliminate every team with a mascot you’ve had a sex dream about.

This disqualifies Herky The Hawkeye. Obviously. Just because he/she is sultry and oiled in your dreams doesn’t mean they’re good enough for a slot in your Elite 8.

There is an exception for mascots you’ve only had sex-ish dreams about, though. For example, this one time I had a dream that me and the Blue Devil from that Rocket Mortgage commercial were getting super touchy in my friend’s hot tub while the Pope watched, but we didn’t actually do anything because the pope was there. So, in that case, Duke moved forward but didn’t go all the way (Unlike Sparty in my dream the next night, ayo).

If this eliminates every team from your bracket, then only do the animal mascots you’ve had sex dreams about.

Never pick a No. 1 seed to lose to a No. 16 seed.

No. 16 seeds were 0-135 all-time against No. 1 seeds before Virginia lost. And that’s not even adding in that the record right now is 1-139 since 1985. I mean, don’t get me wrong, things happen every once in a while. There were two No. 16 seeds that came really close in 1989. Murray State literally almost beat Michigan State in 1990, but don’t forget they didn’t quite seal the deal. And sure, Purdue barely edged out West Carolina in ‘96 but that’s only after the Catamounts messed up what could have been a game-winning bucket at the last second.

Don’t pick a team unless you’ve pooped in their city.

You know what they say, no poops no hoops. But don’t count food poisoning or else your Final 4 will just be New Jersey.