NCAA Tournament: The Case for Rooting Against Cinderella

I have become anti Cinderella.

There's a part of me that hates what I just wrote. I've never been a front-runner in my entire life. I rarely root for the Goliath, taking the side of the David almost every fight.

Yet, for some reason, I find myself rooting against Ohio University this weekend. Ohio is the only real Cinderella left in the NCAA tournament, despite three of the 16 teams coming into the second weekend with double-digit seeding. N.C. State and Xavier are having great runs and should be considered "sleeper" teams, but they are certainly not Cinderellas.

Ohio is all we have left this year, and while I think the Bobcats are a fabulous story, I'm left with great concern that when the other shoe—or glass slipper—drops, one of the biggest games of the year is going to end up a blowout.

The first two rounds of the NCAA tournament are great for upsets. Norfolk State beating Missouri, and Lehigh toppling Duke, are two of the most memorable first-round games in the history of the tournament. The randomness of the bracket and the tumult that coincides with the early rounds of March Madness are part of what makes the first weekend so exciting every year. 

Ultimately, though, that other slipper will drop. Sometimes that makes for less compelling basketball as the games become more important.

We were spoiled last season by VCU's run to the Final Four. After winning the play-in (sorry, First Four) game, VCU took out No. 6 seed Georgetown and destroyed No. 3 seed Purdue en route to the Sweet 16.

It looked like the Southwest regional was going to be a walk in the park for Kansas, facing another Cinderella team in No. 12 seed Richmond, then facing the winner of No. 11 VCU and No. 10 Florida State. Richmond's clock struck midnight against the Jayhawks early and often last year, losing in the regional semifinals by 20 points. But VCU surprised everyone, beating Florida State and taking out Kansas by 10 points to reach the Final Four.

Still, with VCU reaching Houston, the Rams had to face No. 8 seed Butler—not a Cinderella team after reaching the Final Four as a No. 5 seed the year before, a team that also wasn't a Cinderella team by virtue of its favorable seeding—in what everyone thought was basically the consolation game. The real national title game, per popular opinion, was the other semifinal between Connecticut and Kentucky. The Huskies proved us right.

Yes, after last season's Cinderella run for VCU, we probably should be more excited about another potential fairy-tale run than ever before. Maybe that's why I find myself so against it. 

I have great disdain for the bandwagon culture in sports and there is no bigger bandwagon than the NCAA Cinderella. The entire country falls in love with players they have never seen play and coaches they have watched coach a handful of games. Illinois fans were begging their school to hire Shaka Smart after taking VCU to the Final Four last year and coming two points away from the Sweet 16 this season. Eight games. Most people have seen no more than eight games coached by Smart—six of which he won—and have convinced themselves his Cinderella magic can translate on a big stage.

Maybe it can. Maybe Smart is the next great young coach in America. This really isn't about that. It's about how we fall in love with the mysterious new dance partner who unexpectedly shows up to the ball. Very rarely does the fairy tale come true. 

In 2010, St. Mary's made the regional semifinal as a No. 10 seed that put them right on the border of being a Cinderella, as a double-digit seeded small-conference school that's relatively unknown on the national stage, before losing to No. 3 seed Baylor by more than 20 points.

In 2009, do you remember top seed Louisville destroying No. 12 seed Arizona 103-64 in the regional semifinals? Sure, Arizona wasn't a Cinderella by nature of its major-conference affiliation. Maybe it's not specifically Cinderella. Maybe my real issue is just with any higher seeds getting into the second weekend and having the bracket eventually catch up with them in a blowout loss.

Cinderella or not, recent years have seen higher seeds habitually perform poorly in the second weekend. Sure, we remember No. 10 seed Davidson losing to Kansas in the 2008 regional final by two points and an inch, but we never bring up Kansas beating No. 12 seed Villanova—not a Cinderella—in the regional semifinal by 15 points or UCLA topping No. 12 seed Western Kentucky by 10 after blowing much of a 21-point halftime lead.

I will concede that the true Cinderellas—the VCUs and Davidsons and George Masons—have something magical about their run through the tournament the other double-digit seeds can't capture.

Maybe. George Mason's 2006 run was legendary and amazing and fun and exciting and every adjective you can throw at it (especially the overtime win in the regional final to beat Connecticut). Most don’t remember No. 13 seed Bradley's run that same year, which ended in a 16-point defeat to Memphis in the regional semifinals. 

Ultimately, Mason lost in the Final Four by 15 points, hardly the dramatic finish we all had hoped for after such an amazing run. And no, the better seeds do not always perform better as the tournament rolls on. Florida actually beat No. 2 seed UCLA for the national championship by a point more than they beat George Mason that year. (This is not an exact science, people. I get that.)

Even last year, No. 5 seed Arizona beat No. 1 seed Duke by 16 points in the regional semifinal. In 2009, No. 3 seed Villanova beat No. 2 seed Duke by 23 points and top seed North Carolina beat No. 4 seed Gonzaga by 21 points in their respective regional semifinals.

Just because teams have better seeds does not guarantee a game will automatically be closer (especially if Duke is the team losing). Perhaps we expect the Cinderellas to lose by more, so when they do, there's an I-told-you-so factor at work. It's surprising to see a No. 2 seed lose by 23 points. It's not surprising to see that happen to a No. 13 seed.

I know how this sounds. I don't blame you for disagreeing with me or hating how boring my bracket position has become. I've always had hatred for chalk, but with so much over-the-top love thrown toward middle-of-the-pack teams fighting for the title, I feel like rooting for upsets has become the new chalk.  

The beauty of the tournament is that anyone can win, yes. But the reality is that not anyone does. Fans have been spoiled by some amazing Cinderella runs over the last few years, and while a small part of me genuinely hopes it continues with Ohio, the rest of me wants the national champion to be one of the best teams in college basketball all season, not just a team that managed to string together six historic wins in an otherwise pedestrian season.  

There has to be a reason only two teams higher than a No. 5 seed have made the Final Four since Kansas won the tournament as a No. 6 seed in 1988. Top 25 teams are usually the best teams, get the best seeds in the tournament and make the most likely champions. Top teams make the most deserving champions too, if you believe the goal of the tournament is to crown the season's best team as champion.

You know what? I've come to terms with this. I don't feel bad rooting for the best teams to get to the Final Four. I love a great Cinderella story, but I love two top teams fighting for a championship even more. I'm sorry, but I will not apologize for that.