The Thrill and Agony of March Madness

There are few joys more intense than when our own team wins a big game. Losing is just as intense but in a painful way.

No wonder the old catchphrase of ABC’s Wide World of Sports, “The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat,” is still used to capture the experience of sports.

Thrill and agony certainly come close to summing up the experience of serious sports fans.

Fans' reactions to the fate of their own team are often interwoven with the fate of their hated rivals, in direct competition most palpably, but also as they follow their rivals' wins and losses against other teams.

For basketball fans like myself, this is no more true than in the month of March as a host of factors shape, unpredictably, which team will be the last one standing of the 68 teams in the NCAA national championship tournament. The event is dubbed "March Madness" because of the helter-skelter drama enfolding in the six rounds of the tournament.

As each round proceeds, we experience the defeat or victory(s) of our own team, as well as that of our rivals. As any basketball fan can tell you, there is no better palliative after your team loses in an early round than learning that a rival has also lost. Misery, most definitely, loves company.

I live in Lexington, the home of the Kentucky Wildcats and the “Big Blue Nation” of passionate basketball fans. But I am actually more of a Duke fan than a Kentucky fan (though I bleed both forms of blue). This is because I happened to grow up in Durham, North Carolina, and, like imprinting, my brain was permanently wired to favor the Blue Devils. Unluckily for me, it turns out that many if not most Kentucky fans hate Duke, in large part because in the 1992 tournament, Duke beat Kentucky in the Eastern Regional Final on a last-second, iconic shot by the Duke player, Christian Laettner. This year, Kentucky ignominiously lost in the first round to a much lower seed (for the second time in three years), which created a stinging, lingering discontent in the fan base. However, Duke lost two rounds later. Another hated rival of Kentucky, the Tennessee Volunteers, also lost on the same day, meaning that both teams were denied a spot in the coveted “Final Four.” Later that day, I received a text from a friend who is a big Kentucky fan that read, “UT and Duke losing was galvanizing for BBN.”

Win-Lose

Naturally, the supreme, most joyous feelings arise when our own team wins and a hated rival loses. The joy of winning blends with, and supercharges, the pleasure of the rival’s misery. Is there a more spectacular shot of double joy, the thrill of winning combined with schadenfreude? I know of no emotion word that combines these two feelings, but it is delectable in the extreme. What's more, when this outcome results from head-to-head competition, the pleasure is ramped up even more. Bragging rights follow more freely and gloating reaches trumpet level. Ah, what a blissful state.

Lose-Win

The worst feelings arise when our team loses and a hated rival wins, and all the more painful if this outcome is head-to-head. Ouch. I have emotional scarring from when this recently happened to Duke in the 2022 tournament when the Tar Heels of North Carolina beat Duke in a close, much-hyped semi-final game (in what was also the last game of Duke’s legendary coach, Mike Krzyzewski). The Tobacco Road rivalry between Duke and UNC is considered one of the most intense rivalries in all US sports. Whereas Duke fans would prefer to suppress the painful memory, if they could, UNC fans keep the memory and the joy alive and pretty much rub it in at every opportunity. Sigh, what a gut-wrenching bummer.

Win-Win

One truth about March Madness is that it never ends with a win-win, although a win-win can occur along the way. Generally, a rival winning goes down reasonably well, as long as one’s own team is also winning. A head-to-head matchup “changes everything.”

Interestingly, in many ways, the prospect of a head-to-head matchup with a hated rival is dreaded more than anticipated. The emotions run too, too high. Yes, winning would bring a special ecstasy, but losing is way too awful, as it was for me when UNC and Duke played in 2022 in that semi-final game that the Heels won. Like many fellow “Dukies,” I could barely watch the game and have never had interest in seeing a replay. I am sure UNC fans have watched it many times over. The Heels lost a heartbreaker to Kansas in the final game. Apply the balm, please.

Lose-Lose

When all is said and done, losing is agonizing, and, again, the only true, partial relief comes when a hated rival joins the losers club, preferably in earlier rounds.

One, possibly unique aspect of sports (the blood sport of politics aside), is that the full range of emotions is more out in the open than in other areas of life.

I sometimes used the word “hate” in describing a rival team. Hey, that’s an extreme, nasty word. My mother taught me to avoid using it! When I typed it, I felt a twinge of guilt and shame. But there is a measure of accuracy in its use in my own fan experience and as I witness the reactions of many other fans. Take a look at the comments on many fan podcasts and forums.

But, wait a second. Am I really suggesting that we feel open, ineluctable joy in another team’s misery? Would I make such a claim for most other arenas of life? Yes, we have such feelings, especially when we perceive that misery is deserved, the more competitive the situation, and the more our identity is wrapped up in the outcome. In other domains, such feelings are generally hidden and perhaps suffused with greater ambivalence. If expressed, they are often detected in their opposite expression. Did someone say crocodile tears?

Schadenfreude Essential Reads

Community Is the Opposite of Schadenfreude

Why We Sometimes Find Joy in Other People’s Misfortune

Of course, sports inspire many other, more respectable emotions. In the case of March Madness, as we get to know the many players and coaches involved, we can admire and marvel at the many unlikely, accomplishments and the displays of grit and determination.

But it does seem that sports give free rein to express the full panoply of human emotions.

And, fortunately, there’s always next year.