I’ve lost the passion for NCAA March Madness

Every year around this time, NCAA March Madness hits a fever pitch.

The excitement surrounding the NCAA Division I Men's Basketball Tournament is unlike anything else in American sports. Every March arenas come to life, living rooms buzz, and bracketology experts and pretenders alike get excited as 68 college teams begin a single-elimination battle where one team’s dreams are realized and 67 others are shattered in games that sometimes come down to the final frantic possession.

The stakes are simple and unforgiving: win and advance or lose and go home. That urgency fuels every possession, every loose ball, every last-second shot and every coaching decision.

What truly sets the tournament apart is its unpredictability. This year annual powerhouse programs like Duke, Arizona, Michigan, Purdue and Gonzaga enter as odds-on favorites, but underdogs often steal the spotlight, especially as parody continues to gain ground.

Small schools from one-bid conferences suddenly have become household names, pulling off upsets that send shockwaves through brackets nationwide. In recent years a 12-seed knocking off a five-seed hasn’t just been a possibility; it’s practically been a tradition.

The atmosphere is electric. Student sections paint their faces, bands blare fight songs and neutral fans quickly adopt Cinderella teams. Office pools and online brackets turn casual viewers into passionate analysts, dissecting matchups and debating buzzer-beaters. The phrase “March Madness” fits perfectly: it’s chaotic, emotional and wonderfully dramatic.

Then there are the shining moments like overtime thrillers, half-court heaves, breakout performances by future NBA stars and those defining seconds in time where heroes are made. One spectacular performance can turn a relatively unknown player into a national sensation overnight. The tournament builds toward the Final Four, where the spotlight intensifies and the tension becomes almost unbearable.

In the end the tournament delivers more than a champion; it delivers stories of perseverance, heartbreak and pure joy. For three weeks each spring, the nation shares in the madness, united by the simple magic of college basketball.

So with all that going for it, why have I completely lost touch with the tournament that used to mean so much to me?

All signs point toward one simple factor: the one and done.

Since I have no ties to any particular school, it was always easiest for me to root for programs that built time making you get invested in them, teams that featured a group of seasoned seniors who stuck with the program and grinded out careers that said, “I’m not here for an NBA paycheck; I’m here for the glory of capturing an NCAA championship.”

Back in the day, it was teams with no future NBA stars, like North Carolina State’s almost ridiculous win over a powerhouse Houston team loaded with NBA legends in 1983.

It was Villanova’s band of gutsy no-names who worked together for years to somehow knock off Goliath-like Georgetown in a 1985 title game that was incredibly improbable.

It was inconsequential players like Rumeal Robinson leading Michigan to a title in 1989 or watching Danny Manning play four years at Kansas to cap off his incredible career or Danny Ferry going the distance for Duke.

It used to be a person could invest in a team or program because they built trust with guys who hung around and made you get invested because they gave their all for the program.

I don’t feel that same sense of commitment today.

Instead, what I see in college basketball is a breeding ground for the NBA. It has become great players playing for one year and scampering off to the NBA to grab the ultimate prize — financial gain.

Now I don’t fault these players for doing so, and in fact, I applaud them for taking that leap as early as possible because one never knows when injury could derail a career forever.

Many of the greatest talents have come through hardship growing up, never having much, always having to fight for everything they could get, and basketball is their ticket to a better world — a more secure financial world.

That is wonderful for them, and I’m happy for them, but while they are making their play for riches, it has robbed the NCAA game of what I found attractive, that being a four-year commitment to taking a program to the ultimate heights in college basketball.

Thus the NCAA tournament has lost its luster. In my eyes it has become a lesser product, despite continuing to have all the aforementioned excitement, because I can’t get invested in players who are here one year and gone the next.