Next year too far away for Crean and Painter

First appeared on November 25, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

Don’t look now but here comes basketball season. That familiar chill is in the air and suddenly moving to Florida to run the trailer park Uncle Rich left behind doesn’t look so bad. A few backed up toilets and a gator in a kiddie pool sound fairly glamorous when stacked up against shoveling snow in thirty mile an hour winds and subzero temperatures.

If football sends us out on a Friday night under a blazing fall sunset to breathe in the first chill of an emerging winter, basketball finds us huddling around a space heater and blowing into our hands while passing a bottle of something warm around. And for the first time in a great long while, it would seem fans of basketball at Indiana and Purdue find themselves passing the bottle around in the same place (all regards to both Nick’s and Harry’s).

So fans are left muddling through this contentious congregation in some dark room in the back as head coaches Matt Painter and Tom Crean are forced to leave the party early. Sharing the same elevator, an awkward moment finds Crean tugging at his belt nervously while Painter uncrosses his arms long enough to wipe a stream of sweat from his forehead. And as the doors slide shut, both are left to wonder if they’re bound for a higher level of success or coaching purgatory.

Once again we find Matt Painter struggling to construct a time machine capable of catapulting him out of the Baby Boiler era. Finding a fresh group of talent to regain solid footing in West Lafayette has become Painter’s white whale. For since Moore, Johnson and Hummel left town, Purdue has floundered through one untimely departure after another and a seemingly endless supply of Johnson’s.

But fear not Boiler fans, for the cupboard finally appears stocked with some promising, and conveniently interchangeable, pieces. These young players should fit nicely around a battled tested big man in Carmel Junior AJ Hammons, also known as the most intriguing (and at times frustrating) talent Purdue has seen in many moons.

For seven years Tom Crean has been living off the life insurance policy Kelvin Samson’s untimely death caused. Hoosier fans rallied around Crean in the beginning. They welcomed Cody Zeller with open arms and celebrated the evolution of Victor Oladipo. But somewhere along the way a really talented and deep team failed to escape the Sweet Sixteen. Fast forward and we find Crean’s program hit with one unexpectedly terrible black eye after another. Now he’s hoping a young and tremendously undersized team is enough to keep his red hot seat from turning white.

What we have here is a story of two programs. Two programs, once proud and accustomed to high levels of success. Two programs suddenly stuck in a perpetual state of mediocrity. Two programs who find themselves relegated to middle of the pack horses in an ever widening race. Two programs struggling to strike a balance between lofty fan expectations and the realities of college basketball as we know it today.

Still, it’s no secret these fan bases are growing restless. Both coaches have reached the point where next year is too far away. Crean’s advantage is a set of talented wings who can make plays and score, but Hammons size gives the Boilers the best chance to win in the Big Ten. And be wary of that guy, the one saying there’s no way either coach will be fired; for this is likely the same person who’d tell you the best way to get that gator out of the kiddie pool is to dive in after it.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

Loyalty and the NBA: Strange Bedfellows Indeed

First appeared on November 18, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

When I was in the Third Grade I had a crush on Mary Beth Stevens. She of the hair like golden shocks of wheat and dangerous blue eyes so crystal clear they cast perfect reflections of the checkerboard tile floor in the multi-purpose room. Then at recess, while Mary Beth was in a heated game of tetherball, I confessed my love only to have the cutest girl in the Fourth Grade ask me out moments later.

As a simple boy who still raced Matchbox cars and believed the Legion of Doom was in fact the greatest threat facing the world, how was I to know it was a test of my loyalty? A devious plot hatched by the Black Widow Mary Beth herself. But I stood tall and strong, like a 4’3 oak. And for two magical hours we were Charles and Diana, until Mary Beth asked me to dump her lunch tray and never spoke to me again.

Perhaps it’s no secret that, just like fashion in North Korea and the careers of most male meteorologists, loyalty is dead. It’s a powerful statement indeed and one that applies wholeheartedly to the National Basketball Association.

So LeBron is hailed for his loyalty after abandoning Cleveland only to return on a hobbled white horse with two rings earned in the service of another kingdom. How quickly it was forgotten, that ill-fated night Cleve-landers torched King James jerseys in the streets, stomping and dancing all over them. Or what about the “Witless” and “LeBum” posters they displayed when LeBron returned with the Heat?

And then there’s Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert; also known as the one welcoming James back with open arms. This after penning a scathing letter to his fan base denouncing the King 30 seconds after LeBron announced he was divorcing his “hometown” four years ago. A fickle beast loyalty is not. Loyalty is an eternal test of ones will and, when the going gets tough, the truly loyal go nowhere.

But what exactly does loyalty get one? For Cub fans it’s apparently a lifetime of disappointment, frustration and embarrassment. For members of ISIS, it’s a date with a Hellfire missile and an eternity spent looking for a glass of ice water. For Kobe Bryant it’s pumping in 31,000 points for the Lakers and dropping five championship trophies in the broom closet only to return from injury to find trade rumors flaring up after going 1-6 out of the gate.

And before we carve the NBA up for being selfish and materialistic, its best to understand professional basketball is likely a product of our own society. Sports fans, not unlike your two year old, want everything immediately. There’s no waiting in life. They don’t want to hear another one of Daddy’s sermons on patience.

They want the best coach, a franchise player, deep playoff runs and championship trophies, and if they don’t have them by the close of business, the bandwagon gets lighter and season tickets wind up on EBAY with an opening bid of twelve cents.
Loyalty is hard work and we’ve become a people who are, by and large, highly allergic to hard work. Of course there are times when loyalty pays off. For if there weren’t, who in their right mind would ever have it?

Truly rare moments that are magical and powerful and lasting and try as we might we can never get them back. Moments that often take a lifetime to reach and mere seconds to expire. And yet it’s the allure and rarity of these that keep the truly loyal in the game. Moments that keep us picking ourselves up and dusting ourselves off time after time.

So here’s to you who count yourself amongst the loyal, that ever dwindling crowd of the lonely and the ridiculed, smile and wave at all those chasing empty calories, for you know your moment, far off as it may be, does in fact lie ahead somewhere.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

Pep Hamilton, Meet Andrew Luck

First appeared on November 6, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

As Joe Colt Fan watched his team destroy the Giants on Monday Night Football, there were many positives for him to dote on. The offense was clicking, the defense ground up the Giants and Pat "boomstick" McAfee continued his stellar special teams play. Lost in the shuffle however, was one small U-turn that has completely transformed the Colt offense.

When Pep Hamilton was asked to write the Colt offensive playbook, his declaration they would become a “power running team” caught many off guard (and by many here, we mean everyone but Pep Hamilton). And while most first time NFL coordinators would tailor their offense around the strongest pieces they have, like say maybe a 6’4 lumberjack of a quarterback who happens to be a number one overall pick blessed with an uncommon natural play-making ability, Hamilton shocked the world by choosing to go against the grain.

It’s true we as red, white and blue blooded Americans love celebrating those who find success in unconventional ways, but in this case success and the Colts as a “power running team” are mutually exclusive. Coming in to play Monday night, the Colts rushing attack was ranked 15th in the NFL; a position that doesn’t warrant the descriptors “power” or “running team”.

Then, somewhere along the way to Monday night, Hamilton’s approach changed. We may never know if his recent revelation, the one better known as the decision to focus the offense around Andrew Luck instead of an ill-conceived vision for becoming a “power running team”, came because Hamilton realized Luck is a rare talent, or he simply wanted to keep his job.

For all Joe Colts Fan knows Hamilton woke up one day, still fully committed to developing his “power running team”, only to slip on the bathroom floor and hit his head on the tub. Perhaps it was the ensuing case of amnesia that led Hamilton to call Chuck Pagano for advice on the Colt Offense. It’s quite possible Pagano told a foggy Hamilton, “Well, Pep, I don’t know much about coaching that side of the football, but seems to me the ball should be in Andrew’s hands 90-95% of the time.”

Or maybe Hamilton woke up one night, clad in striped one piece PJ’s complete with long sleeping cap, only to find the ghost of terrible first halves past had jangled his way to the foot of his bed to remind Pep how many times the Colts had been down double digits at halftime only to abandon the power running game and storm back on the arm and legs of Andrew Luck.

It’s of little consequence to Joe Colts Fan what predicated the switch because his life is now far too exciting to waste time on conjecture. Suddenly Joe Colts Fan’s phone is blowing up because Luck is an MVP candidate and the Colts are Super Bowl favorites. Let us not forget, they’re also the gold standard in the AFC South (OK, so maybe it’s entirely possible their position in the AFC South would remain unchanged even if Roy Rogers’ stuffed horse Trigger were taking snaps).

The moral is Joe Colts Fan shouldn’t get lost in the semantics of varying offensive philosophies. He’s always been a give me the facts kind of guy. And, as of this week anyway, the facts remain Luck is doing what Luck does best, making plays with the ball in his hands. So fear not Joe Colt Fan, for it seems your team has finally realized what you and those in your inner circle, including that one brother in law who says he played in high school but you suspect doesn’t know a football from a coconut, knew all along. Andrew Luck is a rare talent and a horse that should be ridden for four quarters.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams