In the beginning, there was BHGP, and there was Todd Lickliter, and Marches were boring. And so BHGP tried to make them less boring. There was a bracket. There was a story. There occasionally was a pelican. And there was Commissioner Breadman, overseeing it all. And making bread. And dancing.
Lickliter eventually left, and Fran made us mad again, and soon Marches were no longer boring. With Iowa basketball back in the NCAA Tournament, Marchifornication was crowded out. Our last attempt in 2013 barely got off the ground before being consumed by legitimate sports. It was a shame, too, because that story was going to be good.
No, it is not March. And no, the site doesn't have the same quantity of batshit insanity these days. But damn it if July hasn't replaced March as the time when we most need the craziness. Damn if that story isn't still good. Breadman is still here. Breadman has never left.
And so, before we fully turn away from summer, we're going to spend the next two weeks pretending it's spring. Welcome back to Marchifornication, one last time.