Down the Drive has asked me to put my powers of clairvoyance to use on the NCAA Basketball Tournament.
"But ‘The Miss Cleo of College Football,'" a voice from on-high asks. That voice is one of the voices from the heavens that transmitted the future to me last fall. One of the voices that made you enough money to quit your job, move into the Schaumburg, Illinois Red Roof Inn, hire your cousin Chad to fetch you Little Caesar's Hot-N-Readys three times a day, and watch fishing shows off-and-on till the break of dawn from Thanksgiving night until that night last week when the Cook County Sheriffs showed up and made you leave Room 235 for refusing to pay your bill.