Pre-tournament office personas
The Idea Man (or Woman)
This individual adds little to no actual value. Some variations of this person are aware and comfortable with this, while others see themselves as the Elon Musk of mirthful corporate culture.
But rather than creating multiple billion-dollar companies, including Tesla, he/she, at some point, makes the proclamation “electric cars would be cool”, and considers his or her work done.
Similarly, sometime around late February/early March, the Idea Man announces “Hey, we should do an office pool for the tournament”. They present the idea as if it were a completely novel or groundbreaking concept. Only if they are asked to actually follow through will they then admit that it’s not:
“Oh, I figured it would just be easier to have whoever did it last year do it again… since they probably already know how everything works and have all the email addresses and stuff.”
Yes, he/she just used access to company email as a reason someone else should have to actually do something. That’s how the Idea Man rolls.
Their ancestors were probably saying: “Someone should build like a really big building, like a triangle-shaped building so we have a cool place to bury the Pharaoh” on the third pyramid or “Someone should go find that Private Ryan guy. I mean, you guys already have guns and stuff so it’d probably be easier for you anyway.”
Thanks. Really. If anyone ever tells you you’re useful, they’re a bold-faced liar.
The Organizer
Monday: “Hey, for anybody that’s interested, we’re doing a little office pool for the tournament. I’ll print off some brackets and make a group on ESPN or Yahoo. $10 buy-in, just Venmo me or bring cash whenever.”
Tuesday: “Hey guys, so only a couple of you have filled out brackets and paid me. It’s Tuesday and games start Thursday so the clock’s ticking. Let me know if you’re in. Don’t be the only person who doesn’t fill out a bracket.”
Wednesday: “Ok the tournament starts tomorrow. Like 20 people told me they wanted to do a pool but only 7 people have filled out brackets. Seriously, you need to join the group and fill out a bracket like ASAP if you’re planning on playing.”
Thursday morning: “Dude the first game is at noon. Some of y’all haven’t filled out brackets. Are you gonna play or not? It takes 5 minutes and its only $10.”
“What, do you not have $10? You’re gonna be the only one without a bracket, but whatever man.”
“Yea, so? No one actually has any idea whose gonna win. It doesn’t matter if you watch basketball or not. Just flip a coin. You’re gonna be the only one without a bracket.”
“Why not? Libby filled one out. You think you know less than Libby? Ok suit yourself. You’re gonna be the only one without a bracket though.”
“Steven this was your freakin’ idea. You’re not even gonna play?”
After the first weekend: “Hey if you haven’t paid for the pool…. Actually, I don’t care, just pay whoever wins. It’s definitely not going to be me thanks to Virginia and UNC.”
Conscientious Objector
There’s usually a couple of people that don’t fill out a bracket for whatever reason. There’s always one person that REALLY digs in and takes a hard stance against participating, usually based on one or more highly questionable principles.
“It just stupid to me. I have better things to do with my time.” (spends the next 45 minutes taking Buzzfeed quizzes to learn that he/she is “a Miranda” from Sex and the City, if his/her life was made into a show it would be Downton Abbey, and his/her spirit animal is Sid the Sloth from Ice Age.)
“Why would I waste my money on that?” (spends $7 a day on coffee)
“I’m not gonna do something just because everybody else is doing it.” (You know those “Above the Influence” commercials were just to keep underage kids from drinking and smoking? You don’t have to apply them to every situation, especially since you’re 32.)
“I just don’t like sports.” (You spent 20 minutes last week trying to argue that Pure Barre is a sport — so either you admit to being wrong about that or that you do like a sport and should fill out a bracket.)
“I’ve never done one and I just don’t really want to learn.” (You realize you aren’t being asked to pilot a commercial jet, right? You just have to write or click 63 names of schools. And it’s 50/50, you don’t even have to come up with the teams yourself.)
“I’m not going to win, so why bother?” (About 250 years ago, a bunch of ticked off farmers weren’t going to win when they decided to dump his majesty’s tea into Boston Harbor and take on the most powerful empire in the world with a bunch of pitchforks and muskets. This isn’t the French National Badminton tournament. When we have a three-day weekend for 4th of July, you should have to come to work because your attitude and refusal to participate in this great American tradition are both extremely un-patriotic.)
By the way, I could have told you that you were the worst Sex and the City character and filled out a bracket in the time it took you to answer those seven questions. Of course you’re a Miranda. Come on, even Charlotte would play. Samantha would have filled out multiple brackets.