Okay, I’ll tell the truth right from the start. I had no idea what was going on throughout March Madness. I didn’t fill out a bracket because I didn’t know any of the teams. I never bothered to watch the plays or look at game stats. In fact, I didn’t even watch most of my school’s games.

But when the Elite Eight, Final Four, and National Championship games arrived, I showed up at the game watches. This was wildly out of character for me- I’d rather be home studying, out and about with friends, or doing just about anything but watching any game in any sport.

When I swallowed my pride and joined in, though, I found that… I loved it. It wasn’t the game; I still didn’t bother to closely follow it. It wasn’t even winning; I hadn’t been all that invested anyway, so it didn’t matter much to me personally.

What I loved was the raw, passionate joy that erupted both after a win and in reaction to good fortune throughout the game. Building in each fan throughout the games was a communal spirit that could be neither ignored nor denied. After my school won that National Championship, yes, there was confetti and shouting and plenty of irresponsibility. But mostly, the aftermath included fans crying one another’s names with excitement, hugging each other regardless of the depth of their relationships, and dancing together like nothing else existed in the world. That kind of letting go does not happen often and it is, I think, one of the greatest things we can observe in humans. This was the reason to take up the school spirit and watch the games.

I didn’t need to be a sports fan to love watching people be in love with life.