Manning is the 'Top of the Heap"

First appeared on January 30, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

Start spreading the news. I’m leaving today. I want to wake up in the city that doesn’t sleep and catch a train to the Super Bowl in New Jersey. Yes friends the infamous “New York” Super Bowl has finally arrived.

How fitting the forecast would be mid thirties and rain, considering the only thing worse than taking a train clogged with half-tanked businessmen in five hundred dollar arctic parkas before standing in a security line for two hours only to assume your tiny perch outside in a February rainstorm is the fact most have paid well over $3,000 for the chance to do so.

It’s been a long two weeks for Part Time Pretend Sports Columnists everywhere as storylines in New York, not unlike a meal for under $100, have proven difficult to find. They’ve done everything short of resurrecting Tim Tebow, bouncing from the Richard Sherman interview to Peyton’s legacy to the sophistication of New York to openly questioning the strong nose and masculine jaw line of Lady Liberty.

So the Mad Clapper, Seahawks coach Pete Carroll, giggle-snorts his way to the Big Apple as his Pro-Bowl corner reaffirms his position that he is in fact the greatest cornerback in our solar system. And as President Obama stood before a joint session of Congress to give his State of the Union address Tuesday night, surely even he must have realized that the Sherman interview, and ESPN’s subsequent fanning of the non-existent flames, did more in three days to galvanize the nation than he’s been able to do in the past five years.

Now we stand as an adopted nation of orange, shoulder to shoulder in our wooden barrels and Mork from Ork suspenders, our heads playing home, if only temporarily, to one of those ridiculous plastic horse-head hats that would make even Brad Pitt, dapper as he may be, look like a complete tool. Brimming with optimism, we are bolstered by the hope the Broncos will help Manning grab a second Lombardi Trophy, united in a mutual dislike for Pete Carroll.

The best Red Zone offense against the best Red Zone defense, a quarterback in the midst of the greatest season in the history of the forward pass and a notoriously loud, game-changing Twelfth Man left to scream their heads off in living rooms three thousand miles away. Yes, it would appear the only true hope Seattle has would be Chris Christie pulling a few strings to keep Manning out of the end zone.

For their part, Colts fans are left to cast a jealous eye from afar, knowing that no matter how many Super Bowls he may win as a Bronco, Peyton Manning will always be a Colt. Well at least he will be with the older generation whose attention span exceeds five minutes and realizes an appreciation for history is more than simply remembering how excellent those Pop Tarts were at breakfast.

So as ESPN beats the Manning angle to death and plays up the sophistication of New York City, its celebrities and everything it can boast that Indy could not, fear not fellow Hoosiers, let us rejoice in our forecast. No rain and a guaranteed 70 degrees. We can relax on the comfort of our own floral print couches, stuffing our faces with pork rinds, guzzling our 64 oz sodas while pausing our DVR’s to slop the hogs and open a fresh pouch of Red Man, all the while resting safe in the knowledge there’s a loaded shotgun behind the bedroom door and we hosted football’s big game long before the Big Apple. Good luck Peyton.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

As AJ Hammons Turns...

First appeared on January 17th, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

Potential. It’s such an enigmatic term. And as a rule, throughout history, in most credible walks of life and the marriages of at least one part time pretend sports columnist, ‘potential’ doesn’t get one very far.

Yet potential can mean everything to sports fans. You see a 6’7 Adonis-in-Jumpman shorts with the wingspan of Christ the Redeemer (yes Jay Bilas, we said wingspan) grab a nickel off the top of the backboard and immediately people are talking Championship.
But does potential really exist, or is it simply a term used to describe anything that’s underperforming? Few will argue the massive ‘potential’ Purdue’s sophomore center AJ Hammons possesses and Boiler fans will testify unanimously that, when AJ wants to play, he’s capable of completely transforming the make-up of Purdue’s team.

Many a late night has been spent by a bleary eyed Matt Painter, scouring EBAY for a Tyler Hansbrough-like motor he can score on the cheap. For he knows, if such a motor were propelling Hammons’, Purdue wouldn’t lose another game; ever. Well, at least not until he graduates or enters the NBA draft, the latter of which appears most likely to occur first.

What really exists is Hammons 7’0, 250 pound frame and wingspan; one rivaling a small single engine Cessna (yes Jay, that’s massive). In fact no player in the Big Ten, NCAA, or most of the NBA’s Eastern Conference for that matter, is capable of stopping an engaged AJ Hammons. The part where Matt Painter’s head begins to reunite with the locker room wall repeatedly is Hammons’ play, which was integral in Purdue’s road victory at Illinois Wednesday night but has been noticeably inconsistent.

Painter’s group garnered no preseason attention and, with Sparty still chugging along strong, Wisconsin entering conference play undefeated and Iowa busy opening eyes nationally, Purdue remains firmly entrenched under the radar. Despite this, Painter has quietly put together a promising freshman class.

Fort Wayne’s Bryson Scott leads the Boilers in steals while Basil Smotherman (Lawrence North) is a slippery wing capable of making heady plays. These two join a pair of transplants from the Land of Lincoln in Jay Simpson, a punishing 6-10 Red Shirt, and Kendall Stephens, who leads the team in three pointers and enters with the added pressure of being the son of Boilermaker legend Everett Stephens.

Clearly young talent abounds in Painter’s stable, but these pieces are rendered moderately ineffective when Hammons is battling fouls or taking one of his frustratingly frequent breaks from playing inspired basketball. The obvious elephant in the room is the fact Hammons appears to be everything Matt Painter never even wanted in a basketball player. A fondness for high energy, hustle guys who play their guts out has become Painter’s calling card and to this point Hammons simply doesn’t play his guts out that much, if ever.

His size, brute strength and wingspan (put the tape measure away Jay) makes it possible for him to dominate without, you know, breaking a sweat or increasing his resting heart rate. Hammons came into the Illinois game averaging just south of 10 points and 7 rebounds a game. Wednesday night NBA Scouts could only drool longingly as Painter’s pivot scored 17 points, grabbed 8 boards and rejected 3 shots, including a late run where he scored on an offensive rebound before notching a key blocked shot to help seal the win.

So as Painter labors to restore relevance to his program amidst a Big Ten season that can be brutally long, he does so knowing full well this particular season, much like Hammons, is chocked full of potential.


© 2013 Eric Walker Williams