If Groundhog Day, Earth Day and Arbor Day can be acknowledged as sort of D-list holidays in this country, so can Selection Sunday.
Since when are we more concerned about whether a portly rodent held by grown men donning top hats sees his shadow than we are learning the four No. 1 seeds?
Answer: We aren’t.
Selection Sunday, which reappears six days from today, is the most delicious slice of the American sports pie. Sixty minutes of outrage, relief, confusion, nervous hand-wringing and surprise all shoehorned into a Sunday evening.