Some of you have been asking: Whatever happened to "Blit Meat?" For those who don't remember, "Blit Meat" was FoxSports.com columnist Peter Schraeger's tale of an unfortunate office drone who hosted his company's NCAA pool only to learn, alarmed, that the first place team after the Sweet 16 had the name "Blit Meat." (Except, of course, the word wasn't "Blit.") We asked Mr. Schraeger to give us an update on how the pool turned out.

The edge-of-your-seat thrill ride that was the saga of "Blit Meat" ended with a quiet queef in the night on Friday, March 28.

With one Drew Neitzel missed three point attempt after another, "Blit Meat" — a delicious little morsel that brought hope and faith to Americans everywhere — died before it ever really even got the chance to live.

The "Blit Meat" bracket, bold and insanely accurate through two rounds of Tournament play, woefully missed the mark from the Sweet 16 on. Stanford in the Elite 8, Wisconsin in the Final Four, Michigan State in the NCAA Finals — the glory of "Blit Meat" ended up being as fleeting as a drunken college one-night stand.

This, of course, was to the great relief of my friend Jeff, the novice NCAA Tournament office pool organizer, who took on the reins of pool "Commissioner" just two months into his new job. As it turned out, there were no complaints to Human Resources over the term, no "Jeff ... Let's chat when you get in" Post-It notes from his boss waiting on his computer monitor on Monday morning, and no awkward questions from Jane in Accounting as to what exactly a "Blit Meat" was.

By Monday, the office water cooler conversation had shifted to the NFL Draft, that creepy Archuleta kid on "American Idol" and the new "mildly attractive, Regina Spektor-looking" intern on the 17th floor.

"Blit Meat" finished in 73rd place out of 87 pool participants. The predicted Michigan State-UNC finals match-up turned out being as ill-fated as the bracket name itself.

According to Jeff, a bracket named "ChiefWahoo" ended up winning the whole thing. Incredibly insensitive in its own right, sure — but not quite of the same uber-offensive quality as a "Blit Meat."

As for the man/woman behind "Blit Meat"? Jeff claims he never found out the individual's true identity.

It's probably best we never know.

This way, "Blit Meat" can live on in a faceless, almost pure way. Who knows? Maybe it takes on a life of its own. Graffiti artists will passionately pen the words on city buildings. Kids will mischievously tag it on bathroom stalls. Facebook pages! T-shirts! Celebrities naming their babies Blit Meat! Perhaps Neil Everett mentions it in passing during some mundane Astros-Reds mid-July highlight.

Mysterious, eternal, and strangely enthralling — this doesn't have to be the end of "Blit Meat." It could very well be just the beginning.

Yes, folks. Maybe "Blit Meat" has legs.

Blit Meat having legs?

How's that for a nauseating image?