An Open Apology To My Liver

Dear Liver,

I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I thought it was only right to let you know that I'm about to drop the hammer on you. We've been through some tough spots together- lets call it 1992, 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998,1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006 and 2007- and you haven't let me down yet but, and please excuse my frankness, I don't think we're both going to make it out of this alive.

The first two rounds of the NCAA Tournament. St. Patrick's Day. The wife away on business. Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Four days of booze. It's the perfect storm of drinking. Except you'll be drowning in Guinness and Jagermeister. You'll only wish that I was sucking down some salt water.

I know you're going to try to talk me out of this, maybe throw up a little primary sclerosing cholangitis or some Budd-Chiari syndrome but it won't work. I'm all in and so you're all in. We didn't train for years for nothing. This is what we've been working for; this is why we played drinking games with grain alcohol punch in college. This is why we drank all that Natty Light and all those nasty dollar drafts at Mary Ann's. Because there was always a chance that a weekend like this would come along. It's what we've waited for, Liver. It's what we dreamed of back when we were drinking peppermint schnapps and listening to Wreckz N Effect.

Just look at the situation, Liver. You have the first two rounds of the NCAA Tournament. Is there anything better than the tip-off of that first tourney game? It's not even noon and already the workday is over. I always put you through the ringer each March- remember my infatuation with Gonzaga? - but this year is different. Prepare yourself because it's going to be very, very alcoholically.

There's no clear-cut favorite in this year's tournament. There aren't even half a dozen clear-cut favorites. If all four #1 seeds didn't make it to the second weekend, I wouldn't even be that surprised. Every potential champion- and there are plenty of them- has major question marks. Millions of brackets are going to be destroyed by Friday night and for your sake, you better hope that one of them isn't mine.

Think I'm going to sit there, stone cold sober, and watch my Final Four picks go down in flames? Not a chance. I may have to be shitfaced just to fill out my bracket. Kansas. Ohio State. UCLA. Florida. Pitt. Georgetown. Wisconsin. UNC. Texas. Washington State. Southern Illinois. Nevada. Arizona. Butler. All you have to do is win four games and you're in the Final Four. Liver, you don't have to be a college hoops expert like Bill Simmons to realize that this year's tournament is completely wide open.

Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink. Duke gets knocked out in the first round. Drink. Syracuse makes an unexpected run to the Elite Eight. Drink. BC wins a game. Drink. Brian Butch destroys his other elbow. Drink. Kevin Durant and Greg Oden each blow out their knees. Drink. Drink. Drink.

Oh, and did I mention that the Friday before St. Patrick's Day is a holiday in Suffolk County? No work, big guy.

I can practically feel you shaking already. Actually, check that. I can feel you shaking.

We can't afford any breakdowns, Liver. Suck it up and get back to metabolizing my booze or whatever it is that you do. Because March Madness is just the beginning of your problems.

Here's where it gets tricky- St. Patrick's Day falls on the Saturday of the first weekend of the NCAA Tournament. That means that all the drinking on Thursday and Friday- and there will be a lot of drinking on Thursday and Friday- is just a precursor to the main event- a combo St. Patrick's Day/NCAA Second Round games.

Sure, St. Patrick's Day is generally ruined by a bunch of amateurs in green Izod's getting tipsy after two Mike Hard Lemonade's, quoting lines from Good Will Hunting and trying to sing Danny Boy but it's still St. Patrick's Day. I swear to God- if I hear one kid talk about how "real" The Black Donnellys is, well, I’m not going to say that I didn't warn you. But despite the presence of the "We're all Irish today, even us gigantic douchebags" crowd, we still have to play to win on St. Patrick's Day.

I know that you'll be hurting after Friday, especially since we'll be spending all day at the Barstool Sports March Madness Party. But I need you to soldier on and make it to Saturday. What kind of man would I be if I spent St. Patrick's Day on the couch, eating Triscuits and pledging never to drink again? Not drinking on St. Patrick's Day is just plain chickenshit.

So, take the next few days to collect yourself. Maybe regenerate a little bit of extra liver just in case the March Madness/St. Patrick's Day weekend gets out of hand and we end up in Amsterdam or something.

But make no mistake about it- you're in for a tough time. Sorry, buddy, but this may be the end. It's been fun knowing you.

Your pal,

Jamie

PS- We have a bachelor party the weekend before March Madness/St. Patrick's Day. Lets make it a wet dry run for the real thing.