Swift column: Allure of March Madness eludes sports-phobic
By Tammy Swift
When you grew up in a female-centric household in the 1970s, you expected certain things.
Like the fact you would never back out of the driveway without someone yelling "Did you turn off my Farrah Fawcett hot rollers?" Or that at least one screaming, clawing catfight would result in your precious Andy Gibb poster being ripped in two.
Or that you would grow up thinking March Madness is a white sale.
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