Day one in Atlanta is in the books. And what a day it was. Mom and I met in the airport, dropped off our bags at my uncle’s house, drove to a parking lot near the MARTA, and took a train downtown.
The moment we stepped off the train, it was clear that Coke owns this event. Their branding was writ large, and everywhere.
I hadn’t realized how many other events and festivities accompany the Final Four.
The stadium is adjacent to Centennial Park (where the ’96 Olympics take place). Throughout the weekend, there are a bunch of free concerts, including Sting, Dave Matthews, and Ludacris. There was a big ferris wheel. And there is Bracket Town.
We had no idea what Bracket Town was, but since we had received a free ticket with our game tickets, we decided to find out.
First, of course, we had to find Bracket Town. We followed the sea of large signs, some of which proved educational. Bracket Town was, apparently, the ultimate Final Four fanfest.
As we continued our search, we met this mom and her two enormous boys, one of whom goes to Michigan and the other to Syracuse (two teams that were to meet in yesterday, second semifinal).
To show her divided loyalties, she created a special shirt.
As we stood in line for Bracket Town, we were ever reminded of where we were, what was going on, and who was sponsoring the event.
Eventually, we got to the front of the line, and Bracket town was revealed to us in all its glory.
I had a chance to profess my newly formed allegiance for the Shockers of Wichita State.
Did I mention that Bracket Town was sponsored by Coke?
And what is Bracket Town, you ask?
The better question might be, what isn’t Bracket Town, because Bracket Town was a little bit of everything.
Games for kids.
More games for kids.
Batting cages.
Football games.
A guy with a telescoping hoop on his back handing out Fritos.
NASCAR.
Laundry-machine hijinks.
A walk through the history of Tournament-watching technology.
A cheerful reminder of possibilities.
And a painful reminder…
…of what almost was…
…but not quite.
On a positive note, I did make a new friend.
Before being painfully reminded that neither of my teams made it this year. 
Eventually, we reached our daily limit of Bracket Town and decided to watch some actual basketball, and so we headed to the arena.
But not before stopping to admire some more signage.
Apparently, we were not the only people who thought it might be fun to go to the Final Four.
No matter the sport, I always enjoy the moment when I am standing inside the tunnel, waiting to go out into the heart of the arena or stadium. The contrast between small, enclosed space and big, expansive space is so stunning.
I was not disappointed.
The games were to be held in the Georgia Dome, home of the NFL’s Atlanta Falcons. Because basketball courts are smaller than football fields, they were able to put in even MORE seating than there would have been for a football game. Apparently, the capacity was 74,000, which is 14 Chestertowns.
We were within a few rows of the top of the stadium, which felt a little like standing on top of a mountain.
The view was almost as magnificent as my nachos.
I’m pretty sure I’ve never been in an enclosed space with 74,000 people.
The games were amazing, in particular, the first, in which the 9-seed Wichita State led for most of the game, opened up a 12-point lead over top-seeded Louisville, and almost pulled the upset of the ages. Almost. The better team usually pulls it out in the end, alas. In the second game, Michigan led the whole way and held off a furious Syracuse rally to set up a finals matchup of two historic powers, neither of whom has won a championship in a long time.
When the games were done, we moved with the wall of humanity back to the MARTA.
Our friends at Coca Cola implored us to have a good time…
…but it was difficult, given the human congestion on the platform.
The trains were absolutely full, so we rode Tokyo-style (jammed in like sardines) for the first few stops. As we got further north and away from the city, the crowds thinned out, and we were able to ride the last few miles in peace.
By the time we got to bed, mom and I had each had 22-hour days. The things one will do in celebration of one’s sport…
Throughout the day, I got periodic reports from Kansas City. Apparently, the kids didn’t miss me at all. They went to the new Kansas City aquarium, ate ice cream, had a nap, ate cupcakes, had a campfire, and ate s’mores. Apparently a good surrogate for paternal love is great heaps of sugar. Though I’m sure there were great heaps of grandparental love thrown in for good measure.
Today, we have various meals with family (Mom grew up in Atlanta). Tomorrow is the main event.
More to come.
