How can a person not love spring? (Well, unless, perhaps, you suffer from seasonal allergies.) The days grow longer and the temperatures — even with the occasional freak snowstorm — creep upwards, allowing more time to take a stroll after dinner or take a weekend hike. Blossoms and buds of green brighten what for months has been a bleak and barren landscape. Among the branches, birds flutter and sing, and indeed there seems to be a little more hop in everyone’s step.

For sports fans at every level, spring brings the culmination of a long season or the promise of a new one just begun. Little Leaguers take to the diamond just as Major League Baseball celebrates Opening Day, the Kentucky Derby beckons in May, boating season gears up in waterside communities, golfers polish their clubs while anticipating watching the biggest pro tournaments of the year. One of the most anticipated events of the spring, though, is March Madness, garnering interest across the country as a field of 64 university teams from schools large and small is whittled down to the Final Four. Even those with the merest modicum of knowledge about college basketball and the teams get swept up in creating brackets and rooting for their teams.

Our family, though not particularly athletic, enjoys a good game, and this year we’ve had a little more interest in the outcomes. On the women’s side of the the NCAA tournament, both Oregon State University and University of Oregon made it to the Elite Eight, representing our state proudly, and in the men’s tournament we’ve been cheering on Loyola all the way. Our younger daughter graduated from there, and it’s been delightful to watch the Ramblers’ run. I recall with what pride our campus tour guide told us about Loyola’s 1963 championship — the only national championship by an Illinois university — when we visited in Chicago during Jenny’s junior year in high school. More than 40 years later, it was still a source of enormous pride.

So on this beautiful, sunny, warm spring Saturday, even while I’m enjoying the birdsong as I dig in my garden, I’ll be keeping an eye on the clock, ready to head inside to watch “my” team play in the Final Four.

— Patty Vanikiotis, associate editor/copy editor