Villanova Busted My Bracket, but Taught Me About Allegiance

I consider myself a Philadelphian, but not in the native or "born and raised" sense. Let's say I was adopted.

I grew up in western New York (the state) but chose to spend my college years at Temple University, so I called the City of Brotherly Love home for four years.

Though I no longer reside there, I feel an affinity to everything Philly. So you can imagine how aghast I was to find myself cheering for Pittsburgh in the 2009 East Regional final.

Philadelphia is a true "Mecca" of sports, but unfortunately, its college basketball is often overlooked.

That's a shame, as Philly is the home of jewels like Temple, Villanova, Saint Joseph's, La Salle, Penn, and even Drexel (though that school is not considered a part of the "Big Five").

I enrolled at Temple in the fall of 2001. The spring before, I had visited the campus for the first time. At the time, Temple was playing in the NCAA Tournament and had advanced to the Elite Eight as an 11-seed.

They lost the regional final to Michigan State 69-62. Then, as fortune would have it, Temple never made the NCAA Tournament during my education, but hey, it was Philly. There were other schools in the brotherhood to cheer for.

If Temple is out in March, there's an unwritten Owl rule that says to cheer for another Philly school. We're a cordial group of rivals.

Philadelphia schools give the locals some good Marches. So with Temple out in the first round of this year's tournament, you'd think Villanova's Final Four run made me happy.

But there was one problem: My bracket said Pittsburgh.

After Temple's improbable run in the tournament in 2001, Saint Joe's seemed primed to make a strong case with two extraordinary guards, Delonte West and National Player of the Year Jameer Nelson.

Dynamic guards in Philly is like caramelized onions and steak: They just fit.

It was in the 2004 tournament that I cheered on Phil Martelli and the Hawks after their undefeated regular season. I was heartbroken when Oklahoma State's John Lucas hit that shot to beat them in the Elite Eight; I reacted as if I were an alumni of the small, private school on City Line Avenue.

Neither Temple nor Saint Joe's has seemed able to find those "spark plug" kind of guards lately; maybe it's because Jay Wright at Villanova has been taking them all.

A season after the St. Joe's disappointment, Wright captured the hearts of Philadelphians when he decided to red shirt big man Curtis Sumpter after a knee injury.

What was important about this was that he was putting his faith in his guards, because he wasn't going to try to replace Sumpter. The team's strength was in its smaller players, and he showed his trust in them when he started four guards.

I loved the brass involved in playing a set like that. Wright also showed some confidence by sticking to his defensive philosophy and playing man-to-man; he would just have his guys completely front anyone in the post. The combination of Randy Foye, Allan Ray, and Kyle Lowry was fun to watch, to say the least.

I cheered for that Wildcat crew in March of that year ('06), much the same I had for Nelson and the Hawks a season before. They lost in the Elite Eight to eventual national champion, Florida.

In typical sports-fan fashion, I filled out my bracket at work this year and submitted my five dollars. I picked Pitt, for no other reason than they seemed like the most experienced. I wholly realize it's all just a crap shoot.

By the regional finals, I was behind the leader by only one game. I was well aware of it, but also figured that if Villanova won, it was no big deal, right?

When it came to the end of the game, Levance Fields of Pittsburgh made a timely steal and was fouled.

Then it happened: I cheered.

I cheered against Philly. I cheered against my adoptive home. And worst of all, I cheered for western Pennsylvania.

On the next possession, Scottie Reynolds of Villanova flew up the court and scored with less than a second left. I almost felt dejected.

Here was Philadelphia making a triumphant return to the Final Four. Villanova making its first trip back since their miraculous run to the championship in 1985, and I was concerned about...my bracket.

I sat in my chair, utterly baffled. I should have been happy for Philly. Instead, I had gotten caught up in my bracket, thinking not just of money, but also of being right in my picks.

As if picking the games made me some kind of expert, some kind of college basketball connoisseur.

I'm sorry, Jay Wright. I'm sorry, Villanova. And most of all, I'm sorry to you, Philadelphia.

I forgot for one moment how important our allegiances are, not just to our school, but to the places we call home.

For a brief minute, I turned my back on you. And for what? A silly, meaningless bracket.

There's a reason I don't do any fantasy leagues. I don't want to start cheering for my players and hastily lose the status of follower of my own team.

I will never do another bracket. Though it was just for a second, I felt like a deserter.

As an Owl, I'd be horrified at a Penn, 'Nova, or Saint Joe's alumni that did not cheer if we represented Philly in March. I was certainly appalled when I was that person for a bit.

Never again.

Go Villanova!