By now, Claude has probably been by your desk several times already, asking for your NCAA brackets.

The most important thing is not to panic. Just wave him off, compliment him on his speedy recovery from that severe impetigo, or ask him why he continues to refer to Duke as "we" when everyone, even Rose in accounts receivable, knows he's never even set foot in North Carolina.

Is he gone? Good. Okay, you've bought yourself one last extension. Just a few more games of solitaire and Claude will be back, tapping his fingers on your desk, shaking his head, shrugging those bony shoulders, insisting you hand in your brackets this instant. So focus. The bracket shot clock is ticking down. Once again you waited until the last second to fill the sucker out. 10-9-8 ...

But this year, there's no need to fret. I'm here to help.

First, a few ground rules.

Repeat after me: We respect the bracket gods and we honor them by 1) filling the form out in ink; 2) handing in only one bracket; 3) vowing to advance three Cinderellas into the Sweet 16 (one of which may not be Gonzaga); and 4) when in doubt, taking the team Rick Pitino has not yet visited.

Next, the RPI is for weenies. After all, the NCAA uses it. Remember: Real Pickers Ignore the RPI. If you need a guide, go by strength of conference. After that, I consider emotion, teams with something to prove or teams that have overcome a lot during the season ('Zona, UK, UNC, UF, etc.). Then I look at defense, guards and upperclassmen.

If none of this works, I do what all very serious, big-time college basketball experts do: I put down two Pop-Tarts, one by each team's name, and whichever one my fat lab Scoop eats first, they advance.

I also like nicknames. I'll take a Lefty over a Gary any day. Tark over Tom? Well, that's up to you to decide. Haircuts are good tiebreakers, too. Never pick a team with a coach whose comb-over covers more ground than a zone defense. A good bracket also requires a healthy ego, so a personal preference of mine is to correct some of the stupid seeds handed out by the selection committee. Cincinnati a five seed? See ya. Have fun on spring break. BC a three seed? Look out.

Quickly, because I think Claude is lurking, ink Kansas in for a W in the first round. The last time the Jayhawks lost in the first round Bob Knight still had some integrity.

Two of your Final Four teams must be ones or twos. I have no stats to back this up, just do it. Also, I'm told nines almost always beat the eights, except, um, for last year. So scratch that. Every year a few five-seeds pucker up and lose to 12s. But here's a hint, this year I think the upsets are gonna come in the 10-7 games. I like Creighton over an emotionally worn-out Iowa, I like Butler over Wake Forest, and Providence over Penn State.

Don't look at me like that. Hey, I'm not the one who waited until Winthrop started warming up to fill out the brackets. Now do it.

Oh, by the way, no team from the Big South has ever won a tourney game. But occasionally you have to know when the bracket gods will turn these kinda stats upside down. So lock in Winthrop.

If you're still stuck, go with the old faithful: which mascot would win in a bench-clearing brawl.

Here's two examples: I got a hunch about Indiana State, but their mascot looks like Ally McBeal with a beak, so I'm going with the Panthers of Georgia State to bump off Wisconsin because their mascot looks like Scooby-Doo's evil twin.

Look, Claude is just now getting back from his trip to the dermatologist, so if you've followed my advice, let's see, you should have, hmmm ... Michigan State, Arizona, Maryland and, well, Creighton (or, as my wife refers to them, Creighton Barrel).

Creighton Barrel in the Final Four? That will teach you to procrastinate, won't it?

David Fleming, a senior writer for The Magazine, shares his perspective each week on ESPNMAG.com. E-mail flemfile@aol.com.