Never does sports transcend every day life more than during NCAA Tournament time. Teachers tune in to morning basketball broadcasts rather than giving mundane lectures. Those in the job force sneak in transistor radios or have their computers logged on to instant scoring updates. Some don’t even show up to work at all, or if they do, they take an extended lunch break.

That’s what I witnessed Friday around noontime when I met a friend at his office for lunch. A knowledgeable sports fan, he’d been tuned into the scores all morning long via his computer. But lunch provided a much-needed escape to witness those crucial games on TV.

We hopped in the car, radio tuned to CBS Sports Radio, and quickly made our way to a local bar and grill. There I was amazed to find dozens of others who were hooked on hoops hysteria.

The lunchtime crowd poured through the doors, and a lone bartender and this one waitress had suddenly been overwhelmed with customers. Every tube was tuned to Channel 3, and every tenant was transfixed with the games and scores flashing across the TV. March basketball had certainly made this tavern mad.

I, like every other patron in the pub, watched the television with fingers crossed, hoping the current contests would blast my bracket predictions to oblivion.

Strangers quickly engaged in conversations and arguments over marquee matchups and miraculous upsets.

A portion of the crowd had obviously planned to spend a majority of the afternoon in the bar and had likely taken the day off from work. However, a greater majority were middle-aged men, dressed in collared shirts and ties. They had obviously snuck away for a lengthy lunch break. A couple of those individuals didn’t look like they’d make it back, as they had continued to down several vodka drinks.

Another bar regular was also in hiding, but for a different reason. His wife called the bar looking for him. After the bartender covered for him, he snapped, “We can’t be having any phone calls like that today – not today. We’re too busy.”

And were they ever, as the two employees motored non-stop to serve the dozen of customers as the bar erupted in cheers and jeers nearly every time a basket was made.

Never had I realized how mad March Madness can get. Everyone in the place was living and dying with every basket and score update. Before I knew it, two hours had passed, and my friend was cursing, worried he’d get nailed at work for being gone so long.

As we drove back to his office, we remained glued to the play-by-play of the Creighton-Florida game which was tied in the final seconds. When we reached our destination, the underdog Creighton was still hanging on, and the game had reached overtime.

We quickly snuck into the conference room at his office and turned a small television on, with the volume all the way down, hoping no one would notice. But it was if morse code had been sent out, and soon other workers had gathered nearby.

The buzzer sounded. The game was still tied. But then the TV clicked off, and everyone turned and hurried back to work before the boss would notice. As I walked out, one employee whispered, “What happened in the Florida game?”

“It’s still tied going into double overtime,” I quietly replied.

He tossed his pen and began cursing under his breath.

At that moment, I smiled as I walked out of the office. I smiled because it was funny to see one single sporting event capture the attention of so many. But I smiled even more because unlike those poor souls, I didn’t have to work. I hurried home to see Creighton win on a buzzer-beating shot. And as I hooted and hollered in the silence of my own house, pleased with my upset pick, it hit me. I was just as bad as the guy hiding from his wife at the bar or the pair of gentleman who would have to explain to their boss why they didn’t make it back to work. Yes, I had caught hoops hysteria.