THE REAL MADNESS IS SEEN IN SIN CITY.

Byline: TOM HOFFARTH

LAS VEGAS - A new attraction just opened atop the Stratosphere Tower on the Las Vegas Strip, where anyone paying $8 can be flung by a crane about 60 feet over the edge of the roof, dangled about 1,000 feet above traffic and spun around at about 45 miles an hour feeling 3-Gs of force. The name of the ride is ``Insanity.''

As opposed to the insanity that's going on up and down the Strip in sports books and hotel bars for the NCAA men's basketball tournament.

On a day when the green apparel of St. Patrick's Day coordinated nicely with the green of $100 bills peeled out to wager on the opening day of the 64-team extravaganza, millions of out-of-towners ditched work or used vacation time to cram shoulder-to-shoulder in whatever large-screen TV rooms the resorts could offer up Thursday.

Some showed up as early as 4 a.m. just to secure a place to sit somewhat comfortably just five hours before the tipoff of the first game. Many didn't even have a hotel room in town - everything has been booked for months - and simply took a plane or drove in, planning on resolving that aspect of their excursion sometime after Thursday's games were finished, even if it means sleeping in the car.

The Stardust Race and Sports Book, a bit north of the newer establishments yet one of the more famous gathering places for crusty hardcore bettors since the mid '70s, had most of its 300 seats claimed by daybreak - much to the disappointment of one hefty straggler who came through the glass doors with a couple of bags of McGriddled food-stuff from the nearby McDonald's in one hand, two long-neck Budweisers in the other and scraps of newspapers and notes tucked under his arm.

``This happened to me last year, too,'' he said, plopping down and spreading out at the standing-room-only counter behind the rows of chairs, then tearing open a pack of cigarettes. ``I just can't get here early enough for a chair.''

Daniel Kim, a 26-year-old UCLA civil engineering grad and big Bruins sports booster, and his buddy, Dean Lee, weren't denied. They knew the drill and made it in by 5 a.m. to get the same two front-row seats they've been able to snag together for each of the past five years.

``Had the Bruins been a higher seed, absolutely I'd have been in Tucson (for Thursday's opener against Texas Tech),'' said Kim, a Ventura County resident who graduated from El Camino Real High of Woodland Hills. ``But this has been our traditional place every March now. I still put my money on UCLA to go all the way - at 175-to-1 odds, you got to go for it.

``I even had to join the Stardust's Players Club to get the hotel room comped. Otherwise, you think I'd stay in this dump?''

Lee, who lives in Calabasas and has ties to UCLA because his wife and sister attended there, has been venturing to Vegas the past eight years for the annual madness. He's much more satisfied watching and wagering on college sports than consumed with what's going on at the Major League Baseball steroid hearings, which were shown on some of the smaller TV monitors throughout the room while the games were on.

``Pro sports has too many problems, from the steroids, to guys in the NBA making $20 million a season and complaining that they can't feed their families, to the NHL lockout,'' Lee said. ``Here, it's one and done. Nothing beats this.''

In a way, the scene looked like one big early-morning, cold pizza frat party. The buzz got stronger as the tipoffs got closer. The more money people had wagered on the games, the louder their clapping and yelping and ``I told you, so'' high-fives with their companions got, especially when underdogs such as Wisconsin-Milwaukee were finishing off Alabama, and even when the Niagaras and Montanas were closing the point spreads on the heavily favored opponents.

Those who couldn't tell you the difference between a Kelenna Azubuike and a Guillaume Yango found themselves wrapped up in an electric contest they might not otherwise care about.

``I had to put some money on Oklahoma because my 16-year-old daughter told me to since she was in the school play, 'Oklahoma', '' said Cal Seldin, an attorney from Monterey who used to live in Simi Valley and Chatsworth and now uses the tournament as an excuse for a reunion of about 10 friends who attended American University in Washington, D.C.

Cries of ``Foul!'' and ``Don't foul!'' came in the final minutes of each game, as the over and under numbers come into focus. More yelps and groans came after every basket scored, no matter how far one team was ahead.

It would be easy to get a glazed-over look just from the sensory overload if the alcohol from the nearby bars didn't have something to do with it, even well before the noon hour.

``The great thing about this place,'' said a fellow wearing a UTEP baseball jersey and hat and identifying himself as ``Miner Bob,'' ``is that every time you make a bet, they give you a drink card.''

Whatever keeps the customers happy, said Stardust sports book director Bob Scucci.

``I love this time of year; it's a lot more fun than the Super Bowl in some ways,'' said Scucci, part of a radio show that emanated from the Stardust on Thursday morning before the games began. ``I just want to make sure we have as many (betting) windows open as possible.''

More sports book directors consider these first two weeks of the tournament rivaling the annual Super Bowl crush with the kind of crowd that favors single-deck blackjacks, the $6.99 prime rib specials and taking in the bikini bull riding at Gilley's bar over at the Frontier Hotel.

The Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority won't give out hard numbers as to how many are in town for the first four days of the NCAA Tournament, but they do admit that the 131,503 hotel rooms available have been 100 percent booked for months - even those as far away as an hour in each direction from Primm to Mesquite. Many of those are occupied by those attending a theater owners convention and a construction workers trade show, and by some who stayed over from last weekend's NASCAR event, but you can bet there's plenty of crossover appeal.

With several dozen sports books within a 5-mile radius, they try every angle to attract patrons, some offering free T-shirts for those who invest in a $25 teaser or parlay card or keeping windows open after normal hours for early wagering on the next day's games.

Although the Stardust and Imperial Palace have their old-school charm, it is tough to compete with a place such as Caesars Palace, the MGM Grand or Mandalay Bay for comfort, big-screen visibility and breathing room. At Caesars, those watching games can even do so while feeding quarters into the video keno machines and wolfing down $4.50 Nathan's hot dogs and enjoying high-end cigars.

Dave Cokin, a radio fixture in Las Vegas since the early '80s and a championship handicapper, said it's tougher each year for him to watch NCAA Tournament games in the sports books because it has become too nutty.

``It's approaching the Super Bowl, but in a sense, it's crazier,'' he said. ``If the Super Bowl is a blowout, they get bored. Here, there's never boredom. It's cut loose, nonstop, each day, the entire gamut of reactions on every basket.

``Twenty years ago, the Tournament never had this kind of mass appeal. The duration has a lot to do with it now. Even if the NCAA doesn't want to believe a lot of it is about gambling, Las Vegas has really been the Tournament's best friend.

``I think everyone ought to experience the Tournament here once, even if you're not a bettor.''

So, in other words, the insanity of the NCAA Tournament really does put it into its own stratosphere.