In 2010, a newly hired 24-year-old college hoops writer was casually informed by an editor that, henceforth, he would assume responsibility for something called Bubble Watch.



Over the next eight years, that assignment gobbled more hours of the writer’s 20s than he cares to consider. It morphed from a tunnel-visioned nitty-gritty exercise into a wide-angled chronicle of an entire sport — and the fascinating, bewildering way it cobbles together the best tournament in the world. It made thousands of bad jokes. It developed the power to curse teams simply by saying nice things about them. (Ask Dayton fans. They’ll tell you.) It took on a life of its own.



And now, it lives on. Frankly, in these swank new digs here at The Fieldhouse, Bubble Watch isn’t merely surviving. It’s thriving.



A few quick rules and reminders:



A lock is a lock. If there’s a non-zero chance that a team could miss out on the tournament, no matter...