Lawrence.com

For most KU basketball fans, the month of March ushers in frothing barrels of unbridled optimism.

For Willie Wilkerson, it ushers in the fear of having to haul those barrels out to the city limits, douse them with gasoline and set them on fire.

"It's the easiest," said the manager of Jayhawk Spirit about his preferred technique for destroying wishfully printed national championship t-shirts. "You can always cut 'em up, but it takes longer."

Those who suffered psychological trauma following the loss to Syracuse in the 2003 title game can at least thank Jesus (or Allah, Vishnu, whatever...) that the atrocity didn't also cost them $4,800 - the amount Wilkerson estimates his store lost printing 300 bunk t-shirts.

According to downtown bartender Eliott Reeder, fans who escaped with a full five liters of blood should also count their blessings.

"There were stains literally up and down Mass St.," said Reeder, recalling his walk to work the day after the loss. "So many fights popped off at the end of that night ... people were so full of angst and so pissed off."

He continued: "It's a collective spirit that goes into basketball, and if we get all the way to the championship and lose again - you can expect blood on the streets."

Pissing in the wind

Even if Reeder's tales are part urban-legend, it's a good bet they have some basis in truth.

With two Final Four births in the last three years, Jayhawk fans like Ebony Simon have come to expect nothing less than six killer street-parties in March.

"There's like this sense of entitlement," Simon said. "It's like, 'We're supposed to win - we're fucking KU!' And then when we don't, everybody's attitude gets kind of somber and it's like you got the wrong Christmas present or something - you get kind of pissy about it."

KU junior BJ Farmer recalls being "pissy" and then some after the Syracuse loss.

"I was throwing plastic chairs in the street," he said. "Looking back on it, it was pretty hilarious ... they exploded into like 50 pieces."

Destructive streaks like Farmers' only compose a fraction of the moral decline associated with March Madness, of course. Public nudity and drunkenness (unrelated, naturally -ed.) are par for the course, with an accompanying desire to jump into random pickup trucks and play tongue-hockey with strangers who may or may not match one's sexuality profile.

According to Lawrence Police Sgt. Dan Ward, the city has a March Madness response strategy that prepares for everything from fighting to public intoxication to property damage.

"Usually it's alcohol-related driving problems or individuals who are intoxicated falling," Ward said. "Even if you're operating within good guidelines, be sure to realize that other people may not be and be very cautious."

Psychic impulses

While those darker aspects of March Madness are certainly part of the lore, the more common side-effect may be simple stress, says Lawrence psychologist John Spiridigliozzi.

"People invest a lot of self-esteem in their team," said Spiridigliozzi, who routinely schedules his appointments around tournament games.

"In some ways it's very unrealistic," he continued. "These kids, they're pulled out of anywhere - Brooklyn, The Bronx, Oklahoma City, wherever - and people expect so much of them."

Spiridigliozzi says he has become accustomed to clients coming in with "less bright and cheerful moods" during the month of March. For fans suffering from high stress levels, he recommends lower alcohol consumption, deep-breathing techniques and positive mental imagery.

"The fans need to realize that (KU basketball) is still just a big, money-making sport," Spiridigliozzi said. "If someone misses a free throw and that results in you being so depressed that you can't go to class, I'd say you're a little over-invested in athletics and you need to reassess your priorities."

Spiridigliozzi likens fans' enthusiasm for KU basketball to Sigmund Freud's theories on "sublimation" - releasing hostile and aggressive impulses in socially appropriate manners.

"Being a fan and cheering at a game is a good way to release things," Spiridigliozzi said. "Smashing up the campus ... smashing other people, getting drunk and running your car into a tree - those kinds of things are not good ways to release."

Filthy flippin' traitors

Though anybody could heave a Giddens-style three-pointer down Mass. St. and hit a KU basketball fan, not everybody gets jacked up about the tournament.

For new Buffalo Wild Wings manager Joe Farmer, game days have been an eye-opening and sometimes laughable experience.

"I just can't get over that whole fanatical part," said Farmer, who moved to Lawrence from New York. "There was a girl crying here yesterday. I mean, are you kidding me? ... It's nuts. It's like, 'What's wrong with you?'"

Farmer's co-worker Ryan Rosinsky - also a recent transplant to the area - is similarly predisposed to be indifferent about KU basketball, but he tries to make the best of it.

"Whichever way the crowd is going I tend to go," said Rosinsky, a screenwriter en route to Los Angeles. "It's good to feel that positive energy."

Even those who aren't personally invested in the tournament's outcome may find that their personal fortunes are affected by it.

For Standard Beverage beer and liquor distributor Patrick McDonald, a first round collapse by KU means he'll have little chance of meeting his quota for March, which is based on sales from the previous year.

"If KU makes it to the championship, I kind of need them to make it to the championship again the next year," McDonald said. "In that aspect, I'm the biggest fan there is."

Bleedin' blue

Fair-weather fans aside, the "Jayhawks-for-life" crowd is gearing up for another high-stakes run at a title.

Julia Katz hazily recalls being taken out of grade school by her father to attend the championship parade in 1988 when she was eight years old. This year, Dad promised Final Four tickets if the team makes it that far - a proposition she is weighing with mixed emotions.

"It would almost be kind of sad to be there because I wouldn't be here," said Katz, a graduate of 2004. "In all honesty we can be back in Lawrence and the party will still be going strong - St. Louis is only four hours away."

Freshman Austin Ice is also hoping for a repeat of the 2003 street parties - it'll give her Mom a chance to try out her new horn.

"She came downtown and drove around and broke it," said Ice, whose father Lee Ice was an assistant coach to Danny Manning at Lawrence High School. "I was in my friend's car. We just drove around the block ... which took like an hour."

For Reeder, a lifelong fan, this year's tournament will have to end with a championship to be considered a success.

"If we lose that last game ... weeks after that we'll be saying, 'Oh well, it was a good season; we did this and that and all these accomplishments; Wayne Simien was named Big 12 Player of the Year' and all that crap," he said.

"But what it really comes down is winning a championship. That's what the whole season leads up to. That's the only reason I - as an addict - can take losses."