Fare Thee well Yogi

First appeared on March 29, 2016
in The Lebanon Reporter

This is the time of the year when people turn to sportswriters, be they real or pretend, to explain the madness surrounding them. By law, sportswriters possess an aura of all-knowingness. One granted by beings beyond this world, which only serves to make the power all the more dangerous, all the more mystical and pretty much unavailable on HSN.

It is a power that enables sportswriters to not only make sense of the madness, but also refuse to acknowledge when they’re clearly wrong. The good news is, supernatural powers like these come in real handy when Carol from accounting asks why the sportswriters bracket finished last in the office pool.

If you’re like me, you took the hard earned money your children were counting on, whether for immediate sustenance or future college tuition, and let it ride on your ability to see into the future. The madness arrived and suddenly it became wholly unclear why you made the choices you did. You’re left a confused mess, boomeranging to the day your second grade teacher failed at explaining why we have a seven-tee and a six-tee, but for whatever reason there is no five-tee.

These belong to the unexplained. Dark strands of mystery woven together by careful hands, forming the imperfect fabric of life. Things like why North Carolina doubled their three-pointers made against Indiana, why a large coke at Steak and Shake is the same size as a medium at McDonald's or why your father chose to walk around the house in his underwear after eleven o'clock.

And so you stand in the midst of destruction. Your flaming bracket, your cackling co-workers, your wife bellyaching your five-dollar investment in the office pool belies a potential gambling problem. And, of course, your children, who herd around the foot of your recliner like piglets at an empty trough, staring at you, their innocent eyes watering, impatient tummies grumbling.

March is when the great ones separate themselves. And while a fifteen-point loss in the Sweet Sixteen may not be the way Yogi Ferrell wanted to close his career as an Indiana Hoosier, such is the madness of March. Ferrell came in a highly touted freshman. Four years later, he leaves a truly rare species. He was both diminutive and powerful, a jitterbug with range. He wanted to rock u to sleep, he wanted to rip your heart out with the step back or orchestrate another thundering flush. He wanted to prove little guys still belonged, but above all else he wanted to win.
Ferrell finishes as one of only five Hoosiers to score over 1,000 career points, grab 300 rebounds and dish out at least 400 assists. He is the school’s all time leader in assists and stands sixth in scoring. But what makes Yogi so rare is not his rabid productivity, rather it’s the fact he was this productive and still chose to stay four years.

The one-and-done culture in which we exist is the reason for the death of really good college basketball. It's also the reason Calbert Cheaney’s record as the Big Ten’s all time leading scorer has stood unchallenged for almost 25 years. Decisions like Ferrell’s are one factor in the only equation complex enough to explain March Madness; I’d walk you through it here, but math is a lot like witchcraft and witchcraft creeps me out.
In the end, all we can say is thank you. Thank you, Yogi. Thanks for staying another year. Thanks for a lifetime of memories. Thanks for playing your guts out every single minute and, above all, thanks for being a Hoosier.

© 2016 Eric Walker Williams

Tom Crean is a Cockroach

First appeared on March 11, 2016
in The Lebanon Reporter

People ask all the time if I’ve ever killed a man. The answer is fairly obvious, considering the life of a part time pretend sports columnist isn’t all glitz and glamor. Sometimes we have to roll our sleeves up and do some dangerous work; things normally reserved for ninjas, trained assassins or Mexican plastic surgeons who work out of motel bathrooms.

Take last year for example, I killed Tom Crean after his team was bounced from the second round of the NCAA Tournament by Wichita State. He was done, the end of the line. After failing to get a team with two lottery picks past the Sweet Sixteen, missing the tournament the next season and then being routinely booed at Assembly Hall while coaching his team to an early exit from the NCAA Tournament, there was nowhere left to hide.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending upon who you are, Tom Crean is a cockroach; you simply can’t kill him. The coach of the Hoosiers is, in the immortal words of Frank Costanza, like a phoenix “rising from Arizona”. After a disastrous trip to the Aloha State, Crean returned, retooled and reprogramed his squad. In November, getting the Hoosiers to play defense would have been a lot like getting Donald Trump to admit he has a weakness. A weakness other than his massive dependency upon both hair product and the availability of mirrors of course.

Since Maui however, the Hoosiers have tightened their collective belts and dedicated themselves to competing on both ends. What Crean has performed is a Today show make-over without the hair spray, wardrobe change, caked on eyeliner and entirely predictable reaction of the over-exuberant, male-ish intern. Indiana has simply been unrecognizable since mid-December and the result of this spectacular transformation was recently recognized when Crean became unanimous choice as Coach of the Year amongst Big Ten coaches and writers.

Gone is the stagnant 2-3 zone which guaranteed a wide open perimeter jumper in 30 seconds or less, gone are the pants that could never to seem to stay up without near constant encouragement, gone is the revolving door at the scorer’s table which fed a seemingly endless supply of line-up changes and player shuffling with no apparent rhyme, reason, pattern or strategy.

For the first time since being announced as the head coach of the Indiana Hoosiers, Tom Crean appears to be at peace with who he is. And who can blame him? His point guard is almost unstoppable, his team is destroying opponents and his critics have been forced to turn their attention elsewhere. Crean is more than just a cat that has burned through eight of his nine lives and he’s more than a blustery and unpopular world leader who’s somehow dodged numerous assassination attempts. Tom Crean is a good basketball coach and for the first time in a long time Hoosier nation appears to be warming to this idea.

Despite this, if Hoosier fans are treated to another frustratingly early exit, Crean will need help getting out of Bloomington. In fact, doing so will likely require more than the best Mexican plastic surgeon, including the one who promised to make Mexican drug-lord El Chapo look like Harrison Ford in his prime only to turn him into a paunchy, middle-aged, little league baseball coach with my uncle Frank’s mustache.
So the challenge lies ahead. Indiana fans are hungry for far more than a Big Ten Tournament title. Their eyes are on a much bigger prize. Coach of the Year and Big Ten Champs or not, it’s time for Tom Crean to deliver in the NCAA Tournament.

© 2016 Eric Walker Williams

A rivalry for the ages

First appeared on February 25, 2016
in The Lebanon Reporter

It’s Sunday morning in the coffee shop and the old crows are lined up at the counter squawking about Saturday night’s game.
“Know why Indiana University got rid of Water Polo?” Lester asks, forearms sprawled out on the counter.

“Why’s that?” Earl answers, blowing steam from his coffee.
“All their horses drowned.”

So another installment of the greatest college basketball rivalry in the state of Indiana is over and what have we learned that we didn’t already know? Indiana is an amazing three point shooting team and Purdue loves to beat people up inside. The Boilers can’t make shots outside of the paint and the Hoosiers struggle to maintain defensive intensity.

Saturday night marked a massive opportunity for both. Boiler Head Coach Matt Painter hoped to derail his group’s sojourn into the land of underachievement. Meanwhile Indiana’s Tom Crean needed another quality win to bolster his team’s resume and give sportswriters, real sportswriters mind you, reason to vote them higher than 22nd.

“Know what you call a pretty girl on Purdue’s campus?” Earl asks.
“What’s that?” Lester answers, spoon clanking while stirring up his sugar.
“A visitor.”

In the end the Hoosiers hung on, despite a furious comeback by their nemesis. But more than resumes and statement wins, this was about two seniors. Two players who thumbed their nose at the conventional wisdom that to stay four years means to kill your professional prospects.
In staying four years Yogi Ferrell and AJ Hammons did more than become better basketball players, they became legends amongst the diehards. Despite their impending graduations, both are primed to leave campus forever welding their legacies with greatness.
Ferrell came in as a lightning fast guard who could score the ball. He will leave as a top ten scorer and school’s all time assists leader, as well as being a more competitive defender whose not only stronger physically, but a stronger floor leader and all around basketball player.

“What’s the difference between Indiana’s basketball team and a mosquito?” Asks Lester.
“Reckon I don’t know.” Earl grumps.
“Mosquitos stop sucking at some point.”

Before landing in West Lafayette Hammons wasn’t a household name in recruiting circles. In four years under Painter’s guidance he’s gone from being an often-disinterested talent to one capable of completely dominating both ends of the court. By the end of his junior season Hammons had amassed 1,000 points, 600 rebounds and 250 assists, becoming just the third Big Ten player to do so since Ronald Reagan first won the White House.

And now both teams must move on. Purdue will try to regroup and focus on busting out of the funk that’s seen them drop four of their last eight. And, with a huge game in Iowa City looming, Indiana must avoid overlooking Illinois Thursday night. Indiana’s conference title hopes are alive and Purdue must work towards NCAA Tournament seeding.

“Know why Purdue’s golf course only has 14 holes?”
“’Spose I don’t.” Says Earl.
“Because a Boilermaker never gets to the Final Four.”

If anything, Saturday night served as a reminder of just how great this rivalry is. How alive and well it remains after enduring some trying times. Indiana and Purdue fans enjoying good natured ribbing at the expense of the other team is a tradition in the Hoosier state, a rite of passage. And at the end of the day, a good old fashioned rivalry can’t squelch that Hoosier Hospitality, for fans know life itself is bigger than any sport and no harm is meant. Wait a minute, I’ve got to go, Earl’s outside beating Lester like a rented mule again.

© 2016 Eric Walker Williams