David Copperfield is the most powerful man in the world

First appeared on October 27th
in The Lebanon Reporter

You know that guy who always showed off at college parties using card tricks? With a goggling gaggle lapping his lame act up? I hated those guys. My online therapist says I’m suppressing a childhood fear of magic or clowns; but I think it’s more about my own supernatural shortcomings.


Life isn’t fair and the secret of life may lie in accepting this fact. At some point, bad days will find us all and it’s no different for those in the sports world. One has to wonder if David Copperfield has bad days though. The gold standard of magicians, Copperfield is one of a short list of men whose very names are associated with an unparalleled degree of deception; Copperfield, Houdini, Al Gore.

As for Copperfield though, it’s tough to imagine anybody who owns his own chain of Bahamian Islands having a bad day. Surely anyone who can walk through the Great Wall of China or make the Statue of Liberty disappear could remedy problems plaguing simple folk like us. That’s why whenever I have a bad day I like to play my favorite game; “If I was David Copperfield”.

If I was David Copperfield I would have teleported myself and Purdue coach Danny Hope to Hawaii on Saturday. I would have done this not only to save Hope from the embarrassment of a 49-0 loss at Ohio State, but it also seems like a really cheap way to see Hawaii as well.

If I was David Copperfield I would use my magic talent and creepy expressions to help others. Because making people disappear is as tired as any storyline that includes the names Brett or Favre, I would use my obligatory magic box on wheels instead to heal the knees of both Robbie Hummel and Darius Willis, as well as Dallas Clark’s wrist, and Joseph Addai’s shoulder and the bruised ego of Pat McAfee.

After a disappointing performance from Bill Lynch’s Indiana University football team in Champaign Saturday, if I was David Copperfield I would wave my magic wand and erase your memory. This way you would forget I ever guaranteed a bowl berth for the Hoosiers. What’s that? You hadn’t remembered? See-it’s working all ready.

If I was David Copperfield I would use my death saw to halve the New York Yankees roster and share their best players with the rest of the league. Of course I wouldn’t give anyone to the Rangers or Giants because making the World Series is proof they don’t need help. I wouldn’t help the Phillies either because they almost won their third straight pennant. Oh yeah, and for obvious reasons I wouldn’t give any to the Cardinals. On second thought maybe I would just cut the Yankees in two and give the best half to the Cubs.

While I’m at it, if I was David Copperfield I would have made Steve Bartman’s hands disappear prior to the 8th inning of the 2003 NLCS game 6….don’t worry I would have reappeared them after he signed a notarized letter swearing never to return to Wrigley Field. And why stop with Bartman? If I was David Copperfield I would have made Dwight Clark disappear from the corner of the end zone in the 4th quarter of the 1982 NFC Championship game with :51 seconds left and the Cowboys leading 27-21. And if I was David Copperfield I would also have stolen Christian Laettner’s arms, legs and ability to control bodily functions during Duke’s 1992 Final Four match up with IU.

In retrospect, magicians appear to have it easy. Maybe that’s why I can’t stand them.

BCS needs to take a long walk off a short pier

First appeared on October 20th, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

Would somebody please do the sports world a favor and put the Bowl Championship Series (BCS) out of its misery. It is high time the NCAA scrap this epic failure and (pardon my gratuitous use of yet another tired analogy) go back to the drawing board. Just like landline telephones and the Californian Condor, it would appear the best days are behind the BCS.


It’s like an old racehorse somebody needs to put out to pasture or a dinosaur from Detroit gargling gasoline as a Prius zips by silently in the passing lane. It’s the old hunting dog that can’t see, hear or smell but his master somehow lets him back into the truck every season.

So the BCS rankings have finally come out and, despite a well crafted rumor that it would be Boise State, Oklahoma is the team we are here-to-after decreed to bow to. Many expected Boise State to start out on top, early in the game, only to let them slide down as others crept their way up; the ultimate in lip service.

In reality if ever the BCS should give Boise State their title chance there would appear to be no better place or time than now. With no clear cut favorites in the field a “David v. Goliath” title game would actually generate more interest than whatever powerhouse schools are thrown at us at the end of the year.

Instead it would appear the BCS is rapidly approaching NASCAR Chase for the Cup-like status in the world of sporting events capable of generating mass yawns and disinterest amongst an otherwise rabid fan base. Of course I have no solutions to offer. Had I any- a part time pretend sports columnist I would not be. Instead I’ll take a play out of Cesar Millan’s off camera playbook and simply continue to beat the BCS with a rolled up newspaper.

The worst part about the entire system is that nobody can explain it. It’s like the Theory of Relativity, we all know it exists and that Einstein was a genius for discovering it-but none of us can begin to explain how it pertains to our everyday lives. It would seem the only way the BCS could possibly get any worse is if it hired Mel Gibson to do its PR.

In fact I can explain the BCS formula about as well as a monkey can order Chinese from a menu printed in Mandarin. Certainly the NCAA knows if they make the BCS selection process as complicated as humanly possible, most people won’t bat an eye when they announce their Title Game. And those who do are easily paid off or find themselves breaking rocks in a Siberian labor camp.

Simply put the everyday fan may want to see Boise State in the Championship game, but the people who really matter to the NCAA do not. And by “people who really matter” here we mean advertisers. Yes, all the grandstanding ESPN did surrounding the initial BCS selection show was meant to sell advertising dollars, not fill a void in your life.

So in the long run if you really think Boise State will ever actually appear in the BCS championship game you are probably the same person who believes in the U.S. government or Unicorns. The only way the Broncos will ever make the title game is if Nebraska, Ohio State, Alabama and Oklahoma put together an All Star team to play them first. Talk about a delicious match up; of course for the time being a Californian Condor egg omelet will simply have to suffice.

Swamp People won't Disappoint

First appeared on October 12, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

October is known for thrills and chills, a time when farmers return to their fields to reap what they have sown and a time for Cub fans to struggle for reasons to get out of bed.


So it was with great anticipation that I turned to “Swamp People” (History Channel, Sundays 10/9 c), looking for something to get my heart beating again. Fully expecting a distant cousin of Wes Craven’s masterpiece “Swamp Thing”, I discovered instead a pocket of the world where apparently evolution is yet to be defined, or by most accounts is late for the party.

For those yet to experience “Swamp People”, it is an unscripted diary chronicling the rudimentary existence of Louisiana’s Alligator hunters. It’s the Beverly Hillbillies meet the Crocodile Hunter.

If you’re confused why this is on the Sports Page, before continuing let me mention alligator hunting is in fact a sport; and it’s been a slow sports week otherwise.

Since the number of you who have been struck by lightning is probably higher than the number who have actually been Alligator hunting before, I will summarize the concept in one sentence.

You find the perfect swamp stump, wrap a shoestring with a barbed fishhook large enough to make Captain Hook jealous around it and wait until an Alligator bites into the rotting chicken meat you’ve baited it with.

To be fair Times Square the Atchafalaya River Basin is not. A million acre swamp that gashes the southern third of Louisiana, this remote wilderness is home to 300 different bird species, an estimated 1.5 million Alligators and, of course, the Swamp People. With this in mind it’s understandable that harvesting gators has been a way of life there far longer than the state of Louisiana has been around.

Acadians, or Cajuns as many know them, take pride in the fact they were castaways. Sent down from Canada to start a new life, few could have realized they would settle into the Atchafalaya swamp only to lie unmolested for 200 years. That was until, like a frozen caveman, a group of History Channel Producers unearthed them in a state of perfect preservation.

What “Swamp People” does is shed light on a part of Americana few realize existed. Fried alligator, swamp rats, grown men hunting half-naked (save a pair of overalls) in Crocs (no pun intended, one was literally wearing Crocs), “Swamp People” is as entertaining as it is crude.

Say what you will, you have to love “Swamp People” for being the one show that dares to stick a finger in PETA’s eye. It’s the politically incorrect elephant in the room in an era when environmental awareness has arguably never been higher.

If the sight of a spider on the floor sends you running for the high ground safety that is the coffee table, then “Swamp People” is probably not for you. The show is so over the top it’s almost as if a group of History Channel producers literally asked a table of writers to put together something so insensitive it would convince the entire nation to join PETA overnight.

What “Swamp People” is to me, if you can get by the images of a rifle being jammed against the head of an alligator writhing for his life, is a celebration of American Culture. Oral history in the digital age. Uncomfortable as some may find it, “Swamp People” is actually the closest thing we’ve probably ever seen to Reality Television. Yes, its official- Reality TV has a new standard bearer. No matter what anyone says, “Swamp People” is a show full of teeth.

Bill Lynch and the Indiana Hoosiers are Runnin' down their own dreams

First appeared on October 6th, 2010
in The Lebanon Reporter

It’s been twenty years since Tom Petty released “Full Moon Fever”. I only remember it because it was the first cassette tape I ever bought. For those of you too young to know, a cassette was like an IPOD before there were IPOD’s. Well, I guess that’s only true if IPOD’s held less than 12 songs and were eaten by the cassette player of my car every other day. So I guess in reality a cassette is like an IPOD only far less cooler (although you can’t fix an IPOD with scotch tape and a ball point pen).


This random foray into the evolution of popular music is part of a circuitous route to the fact that hearing “Runnin’ Down a Dream” come over the car radio the other day spun me into a stream of consciousness. It was a magical experience dominated by visions of a Chevy Cavalier complete with black interior and no A/C, kitschy album artwork, one incredible road trip song and Indiana University’s football team; all at 70 MPH.

“It was a beautiful day, the sun beat down”

What a place and time to have one of the great performances in school history. Broadcast on ESPN, potential recruits saw one of Indiana Football’s largest crowds ever crammed into Memorial Stadium. And what followed can only be described as tremendous.

“I felt so good, like anything was possible”

There was an unfamiliar air of confidence in Bloomington Saturday. An energy generated by an undefeated start and magical memories from the Big House a year before. What followed was simply an incredible performance (offensive performance mind you). Unfazed by Heisman hype, the Hoosiers matched Michigan (AP #18) punch for punch as both offenses were unstoppable (over 1100 total yards).

The resolve Indiana showed much of last year was still there. A potent offense mixed with grit and toughness. Coming back time and again until, after the commentators had repeatedly said “you like Indiana’s chances if Robinson has to beat you with his arm”, Robinson went out and beat IU with his arm.

“Runnin’ down a dream, that never would come to me”

For three years now head coach Bill Lynch and his Indiana Hoosiers have been running down their own dream. Lynch has gone from a bowl berth piloting a team covered with Terry Hoeppner’s fingerprints to creating one marked by his own. Everyone in IU’s locker room is fighting for respect, fighting for recruits and fighting to the end in games the program used to find embarrassing.

“workin’ on a mystery, goin’ wherever it leads”

My crystal ball tells me the Hoosiers will make a bowl appearance this year, of course in 1989 the same crystal ball told me to buy as many cassettes as possible because the technology could NEVER get better.

The Hoosiers have another difficult test in Ohio State this week before Arkansas State comes up for Homecoming. This should be a welcome confidence boost before the final six games. A stretch including ranked opponents in Iowa and Wisconsin and a home game against Penn State that Athletic Director Fred Glass might regret moving to Maryland.

Counting Arkansas State, the Hoosiers will likely need to find 3 more wins if they want to go bowling. Beating Northwestern and Illinois would set up another must win with Purdue like the one that saw Austin Starr nail the kick heard round the state.

So come December just what tune will Bill Lynch be singing? Hoosier fans hope it includes Petty’s last line:

“There’s somethin’ good waitin’ down this road, and I’m pickin’ up whatever is mine”.