'Easy way out' no option for the Blue and Gold

First appeared on March 5th, 2015
in The Lebanon Reporter

When two Tennessee girls’ high school teams met recently, each hoped to fulfill their lifelong goals and dreams by losing a game. This unconventional approach would have afforded one an opportunity to avoid a tournament match up with a local national power. A game that would have proven there are in fact three surefire things in life; death, taxes and total obliteration at the hands of Blackman High.

To avoid this fate, fans were treated to a bevvy of intentional turnovers and not-so-believable bricks. In short it was a performance capable of making even the Washington Generals blush.

And while the game should have been a convenient lesson in sportsmanship, it is perhaps an indicator of a larger issue. Between the Internet, Smart Phones, fast food, Twitter, programmable thermostats, plastic grocery bags and the Roomba, American culture has become about embracing the easy way out.

When Paul George destroyed his leg in a Team USA scrimmage in July, the Indiana Pacers could have taken the easy way out. Put David West on the shelf for a year and let Roy Hibbert work on developing his post game while the team floundered through a 20 win season.

Enter Larry Bird. Yes, he of the unfortunate too-short-shorts era, who also taught us about brilliant shot making and never taking the easy way out. It’s only fitting the Legend’s franchise would assume his demeanor. Kick me when I’m down, I’ll just get up and come back for more. And that’s exactly what the Pacers have done all year; come back for more.

Conventional wisdom had the Blue and Gold resigning themselves to mediocrity. Package Hibbert and George Hill for a new team bus and some fresh linens, take your lumps and hope the lottery balls bounce your way. Instead the Pacers have circled the wagons all year finding inspired play from one unlikely source after another. The formula is simple. Forget the place and time, forget the predictions and expectations and just play hard, play together and play with an edge.

In the middle of it all is the winningest coach in franchise history; Frank Vogel. From the start, Vogel has remained steadfast in his faith that this team can win. This despite dozens in the national media opining the solution to all of Indiana’s problems could be most easily found at the end of a Kim Jong Un missile.

But the Pacers are Blue Collar for a reason. Sure they may prove to be a punching bag for Cleveland in the first round, but they’ve at least shown the sports world there are alternatives to the easy way out. A championship may not be in the cards for everyone, so relish the moment instead and be the best you can be wherever you are.

So perhaps the next time some young girl in Tennessee thinks about shooting a lay up that scrapes the ceiling of the gym or throwing a pass to their mom in the stands, maybe they’ll stop and think about the 2015 Indiana Pacers instead. Maybe then they’ll understand there are alternatives to the easy way out.

Meanwhile, we go on plodding through life as our cable bill is automatically deducted from our bank account, which will automatically transfer funds if we’re overdrawn. We gripe about a half hour wait at a restaurant while using their complimentary Wi-Fi to chart a course to a different place to eat, one 45 minutes away with a far less wait. Check-in-Buddy puts our name in as we open a different app, one that shows us traffic times and 27 alternate routes.

© 2015 Eric Walker Williams

Merry Christmas from the Sports World

First appeared on December 18, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

For you Christmas lost its meaning in third grade when the Santa outside 3D got mad at you for crushing the pack of cigarettes he’d stashed in his front pocket. And as his profane string of insults throttled your virgin ears, they arrived riding the strangest of smells.

A toxic potpourri that would remain undiscovered until many years later, where at a gathering of so called friends in a dark college apartment, full of crushed cigarettes and hormone-powered profanities, you found yourself bitten by the Wild Turkey for the first time.

Today the sermons sound simple and ring true. Speeches about caring for others and giving to the less fortunate, but for you Christmastime remains frozen in time. It’s the season to wish for the things you don’t have. Things that seem within reach but for a variety of reasons remain at arm’s length. And so you still compose lists in your head, your own personal get back for that rag tag Santa who shattered the world as you once knew it.

Those in the sports world profess to be selfless human beings, but we know deep inside the depths of their souls, in a place no probing journalist has ever found, lurks an ugly Grinch-like desire to lie, steal and cheat their way to the top of Mount Crumpit. Facts are facts, you don’t get to the top without a little of the green guy in you.

With this in mind, coaches and teams are not above wishing for things that could make them better. Tom Crean’s list begins, “Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is someone taller than 6’8 who can play.” Meanwhile, eighty miles to the north, Matt Painter is up late baking gingerbread cookies to leave out with his short note, the one asking for a chance to play North Florida again.

John Calipari’s list is a bit longer. He wants an undefeated season for his Kentucky Wildcats capped by a National Championship, and he’d like it to arrive as soon as possible, that way he has enough time to enjoy it before the NCAA strips it away. Indiana fans want a chance to play the Wildcats again, while Kentucky’s faithful have written the North Pole hoping for things like some new socks, a professional sports franchise other than UK’s basketball team and more front porch space.

Frank Vogel wants his team to play hard, fight every night and scrap their way into the Playoffs. Apparently his list includes an opening round bloodbath at the hands of the Cleveland Cavaliers as well. Meanwhile, every Pacer fan on earth wants them to lose every game by 50 and stink their way into the lottery where they might luck out and pick up one of Kentucky’s bench players.

The Colts are asking Santa to bring Andrew Luck a pair of glasses so that he might see the opposing team’s secondary while Reggie Wayne is hoping to find a new pair of knees under the tree on Christmas morning.

For Cubs fans Christmas came early with the signing of free agent Jon Lester and for Lester’s kids, well there’s really no reason for them to make out a Christmas list now is there? But Cubs fans have been down this road before, they know it’s too soon to talk World Championship. This means they’ll just bide their time and wait for the wheels, or Lester’s arm, to fall off before their season crashes and burns up in a fiery, catastrophic and somewhat all too familiar, death.

Merry Christmas to you and yours and may God bless us everyone (even the Kentucky fans).

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

Upon Further Review: Lance Will Be Missed

First appeared on July 18, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

Lance Stephenson’s signing with the Charlotte Hornets, or Bobcats, or Hornets again, whatever they've decided to call themselves this season, generated almost no buzz whatsoever. Considering it is the deadest sports week of the year, this must leave those in the Stephenson camp feeling somewhat inadequate; like a 'let's go buy a monster truck and cut the tailpipe off it and accelerate loudly through a retirement village trying to scare people' kind of inadequate'.

This in the wake of LeBron’s decision to return to Cleveland, one broadcast in 195 different countries and every planet from Earth to the one Vladimir Putin calls home. Meanwhile, Charlotte is bracing for Stephenson’s arrival as if he were Hurricane Lance instead of a mercurial, multi-talented guard who does nothing but play hard, agitate opponents and do his physical best to run through walls on a nightly basis.

And while only a loon would ever argue fans owe professional athletes anything, in this case one small exception should be made. And before you get started, it’s not about cars and gold watches and chains or free beer vouchers for the State Fair, though I’m sure this would be welcomed by even the craziest of loons.

In this case let us offer a kind-hearted “Thank you”. Thank you Lance, for being the junkyard dog. Thank you for caring in those times it appeared many of your teammates had forgotten the basic fundamentals of team basketball or the definition of the word 'compete'. Thank you for the triple doubles and spectacular finishes at the rim. Thank you for your goofy All Star video and your ‘never, ever, no matter what happens will I ever back down’ attitude.

While I’m at it, we probably owe you an apology for any Ron Artest comparisons you’ve endured. For all practical purposes, your actions never warranted those. People considered your roots and the things you were perceived to be capable of while passing judgment. You played for a franchise whose greatest player was renowned for flashing choke signs and is run by the NBA’s single greatest trash talker of all time; so if giving a choke sign and blowing in someone’s ear are the worst things you do in life, kudos.

For some, Lance’s departure is a somber moment. Don't confuse this with a eulogy for the Pacers title chances for that will come in November if they plan to head into next season with the current roster. Heart, toughness and playmaking are just three things the Pacers will lack in Stephenson’s absence.

Few can argue there were instances where the ball stuck in his hands. Despite this, nearly every time the Pacers appeared rudderless, Lance was the only one who consistently tried his best to right the ship. He was a hard-nosed, high energy guy and that’s not something many in the NBA can boast on a resume.

It would seem we’ve been all too quick to forget the times the Pacers were booed off the floor last year (see being down 30 to Atlanta in the first half). In those games, Stephenson was by himself playing his brains out. He was a wild stallion who did his best to stay in the stall, who fought the urge to go ‘all out playground’ on opponents and tried as best he could to operate within the framework of Frank Vogel’s system; though we all witnessed how extremely difficult this was for him at times.

So now he’s left for greener pastures. And though a max contract guy he may never be, he was an important piece of the Pacer puzzle and one that must be replaced with another gutty playmaker. If this can’t be done, then the remaining roster has to be reshuffled. Either way, if the Pacers plan to contend in the East again, then their off season must be far from over.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

BREAKING NEWS: First Round exit not what Larry wanted

First appeared on May 1st, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

My dad took me to my first Indiana Pacers game at 13. It was a regular season tilt featuring Larry Bird’s World Champion Boston Celtics. And while I knew the Pacers weren’t good, finding Market Square a swirling sea of green, an army of auto mechanics and accountants shoulder to shoulder in the same Bird jerseys each swooning over Larry Legend, was completely unexpected.

The Celtics arrival had inspired the first sell out since the last time they were in town, prompting a silver haired usher to gush about the curtains finally being raised on the upper level. In the shadow of a World Champion, the Pacers played like a semi-pro team. The crowd surged with every shot Bird made, chanting his name after every pass he threaded, and cheered for every rebound he corralled. Everything about the night seemed out of place as 17,000 strong appeared to resent any resistance the Pacers put forth.

Meanwhile, from the row behind, two rosy cheeked draft experts blasted the Pacers 6’7 rookie wing for not being Steve Alford. The gangly kid from UCLA with the ears. “They should have drafted his sister, she’d help the Pacers more.” “He didn’t play for Knight, he doesn’t know basketball.” Brilliance personified.

Life is funny. Who could have known that so much of Indiana’s history as a franchise would be tied to that fateful night in 1987? Who knew that wide eyed rookie with the big ears would put the Pacers back on the map, shoot them into the Finals while sticking a finger in New York City’s eye along the way? Reggie Miller was fiery, fearless and played with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas.

And when Reggie and Larry joined forces in 1997 Pacers fans rejoiced in George Costanza-like fashion, “Worlds are colliding!” But alas Reggie’s Hall of Fame career is over leaving Larry to look on helplessly from his perch along the baseline, in the city he once dominated as a champion, reduced to watching all his hopes and dreams for a Pacers’ Title swirl down the proverbial toilet.

This unforeseen tailspin has been rife with misery and heartbreak, confounding experts while putting a once effervescent head coach firmly on edge. And as Pacer Fans everywhere hold their collective breath, waiting for the moment the Hawks realize they are the 8 seed and decide to give up and go away, everyone with a brain has reached the conclusion this current group of Pacers are not Larry and Reggie.

They don’t necessarily play together. They don’t consistently outwork opponents. They aren’t hard-nosed and seem to floudner around in an unfocused manner for most of a 48 minute game. For proof one need look no further than Hawks Forward Mike Scott, Reggie would have told a Davis boy to put him in the second row before Scott could make five three pointers in a quarter (Larry would have done it himself).

By Nature Midwestern sports fans are a tolerant lot. They’re willing to suffer through almost anything (see Cubs, Chicago). But a perceived lack of effort is taboo in the Midwest. The Pacers branded themselves with defense and hard work, but there’s been nothing ‘Blue Collar’ about them since the calendar turned 2014.

This isn’t about X’s and O’s. It’s about guts, bravado and playing fearlessly. These are qualities that allowed Larry and Reggie to excel. These are also qualities the current Indiana Pacers would be well served to develop quickly. If Paul, David, Ringo and Roy don’t come to the realization soon that nothing easy is worth having, the only thing hanging from the rafters in Banker’s Life will be a curtain blocking empty seats.


© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

While many words may describe Pacers, none are good

First appeared on April 11th, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

The Pacers are in a freefall. And this would be entirely understandable if Head Coach Frank Vogel sat on the sidelines in an ultra-cool top hat wailing on a Rickenbacker 12 string as 30,000 strong swayed in unison with Bics blazing, “she’s a good girl…” But alas, there are no vampires walkin’ through the valley and it looks like the only people who are ‘gonna leave this world for a while’ are Pacer fans.

So the Pacers have a case of Full Moon Fever, or at the very least are experiencing the largest identity crisis in the history of Professional Sports (all apologies to Dennis Rodman). Either way, there’s only one word to describe the month of March for Indiana; well there are actually many words to describe it but my editor has shot most of the others down.

Indiana has been terrible. They haven’t even been good enough to be classified as the proverbial “shell of their former self”. Up and down the roster, up and down the stat sheet and up and down the court, the Pacers have set professional basketball in the state of Indiana back 5,000 years in a mere 30 days.

And when you’ve played your way down to the bottom of the barrel you get a pat on the back and some time off. Who knew refusing to come out of the locker room after halftime could be so taxing? Or perhaps the most exhausting part was refusing to stand and join the team huddle during time outs? Or was it going online to complain about hard working people who’ve grown so disgusted with the spectacle that is your team right now that they chose to boo?

These would be the same hard working people who made the conscious decision to take time from their lives and money from their pocket, money that could have as easily been put to something more worthwhile such as feeding their children or buying their brother-in-law’s family a hotel room, to drive downtown and watch a team that claims to be the flagship for an entire state.

By nature Hoosiers are not quitters. Whiners maybe, but not quitters. So our flagship team only has it half right at the moment. It’s too late for solutions. It’s also too late to pay some high priced sports psychologist to lug his oversized crushed velvet couch from the big city all the way out to the sticks. There are no trades to be made. There are no speeches to be given. There is no time to move west down Ventura Boulevard for a barbeque at Paul George’s house.

The Playoffs are coming. And while Frank Vogel can stop the bleeding temporarily by sitting his starters in Milwaukee, what he can’t stop is Fate. Fate allowed Indiana to start the year 33-7. Fate made Paul George an All Star and Fate kept Lance Stephenson home. And Fate, fickle as ever, helped Memphis defeat Miami Wednesday night propelling the lackluster Pacers into first place atop the Eastern Conference.

So for as bad as it’s been, lest we forget just how unbelievably bad it has been, the Pacers’ main goal still remains within reach somehow. Friday night they play the Heat (perhaps it’s better to say the scheduling gods have the Pacers and Heat in the same building Friday night). And while it will appear to some as simply 1 of 82 regular season games, Friday night will speak volumes. The season won’t be won on Friday night, but unless Indiana arrives with the mentality that they ‘Won’t Back Down’, there’s a real possibility it could be lost.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

Indiana Pacers will survive this Deep Freeze

First appeared on March 14, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

You know it’s too cold when a young and energetic State Representative, entirely convinced he was brought into this world to enact real change, surrenders and submits a bill to the Indiana House mandating the statewide erection of Penguin Crossing signs. What happened to the Global Warming goons and their rising temperatures? I suppose I need to get out and drive my car more. Turn on all the lights in my house and install a coal chute on my fireplace. Maybe that would warm this place up.

Perhaps the Indiana Pacers current free-fall is simply art imitating life. Losers of four in a row up until Boston came to town, Indiana helped the Celtics carry their bags from the bus, for nothing can stop a losing streak faster than facing a roster comprised largely of players who should be buried deep on another team’s bench.

How could a team with the best record in professional basketball appear so uncompetitive? Who knows. Why do news outlets insist on giving us poll numbers when we know they’ve been calling the same people over and over again for years? I don’t know about you, but nobody has ever phoned me about chemical weapons in Syria.

Some contend Indiana’s tailspin stems from a lack of ball movement, others blame poor defense. They look disinterested as a group, tired or it’s the impotent play of their young stud who’s been too busy reading writers far more gifted and relevant than yours truly telling the free world how talented he is. I’m sure at some point all of these apply and if I knew the real answer you’d find me interviewing Greg Popovich during a time out on national television.

Perhaps the Pacers, like their fans, have succumbed to temptation, looking past the remaining games on the schedule. The Playoffs are so close everyone with a horse still in the race can smell them. A potpourri of stale hot dogs, historic moments and 17,000 exuberant people with varying philosophies on personal hygiene sharing a poorly ventilated space in late May.

The playoffs, a place where Championships roam free in herds so large a man could sit down and watch them pass for days. Packed arenas in full throat and fervor, watching with wide eyes as careers are made and ruined with the bounce of one ball.

The unfortunate fact in all this is the Pacers are contractually bound to play the rest of the games on their schedule. Sure we’d all walk across the street to watch a seven game series with Miami tomorrow, but alas Milwaukee calls.

Milwaukee with its 51 losses and semi-professional roster, including one go-getter who stopped in mid play while his team was on defense earlier in the season to tie his shoe. Saying there are too many games in the NBA regular season is like saying Washington doesn’t work. We understand it’s a proven fact and to discuss it is simply beating a horse that died during the Stone Age.

So the Pacers are left to pick up the pieces and move on. Speaking in proverbials, they must rally, right the ship, circle the wagons and get everyone on the same page. It will warm up at some point and so too will the Pacers.

In the meantime sit back and enjoy the ride, this long and winding detour through Antarctica will soon be over and the Playoffs will be here. And if a banner is hung in Bankers Life come June, all the plunging temperatures, burst pipes and time spent digging out, which triggered an avalanche of blustery blizzard-like blues so deep and wide it buried our souls long ago, will have all been worth it somehow.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

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Pacers remain so close....

First appeared on June 5th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Back in the day the man perm was an unstoppable force of nature. And, with all apologies to the late Rick James, when it comes to man perms few could rival John Oates of Hall and Oates fame. After Monday night’s debacle in Miami, fans of the Blue and Gold were left lamenting the 32 points King James dropped on Indiana or the fact the league’s MVP absolutely shut down Paul George in the biggest game of his life; but my mind was on Hall and Oates.

How fitting would it have been for one of the greatest duos of the 80’s to be waiting in the Pacers tunnel as they sulked from the floor? Perched on their stools, rocking a single amp, John Oates still looking like 1983 with Daryl Hall’s golden pipes bellowing out “So close, yet so far away”.

That’s what the Pacers were, so close, yet the Heat’s dominating performance in Game 7 made it clear Indiana remains so far away. As great as the Pacers were, the Heat reminded them what a true Champion is. Turnovers erased any chance Indiana had at playing for an NBA Championship, thus deep sixing what Marv Albert had already dubbed the “greatest upset in NBA Playoff History”; clearly Marv hasn’t gotten over Reggie Miller.

Forgetting Marv Albert’s misguided prophecy, and unflattering hat helmet, for a moment, up until Monday night the Indiana Pacers were on a run that seemed destined for the Finals. It could be said everything they touched turned “blue and gold”. The 1980’s brand of smashmouth basketball the Pacers were playing looked so effective that somewhere Chuck Daly was smiling behind a Poker table while those with the most titles in front offices around the league were silently questioning their movement away from a dominating front line.

The usually outlandish and cranky Sir Charles was actually spot-on when comparing Roy Hibbert and David West’s dominating play to Russell and Chamberlain. Mix in strong all around play from the emerging superstar Paul George, sharp shooting (at times) from George Hill and the surprising arrival of Lance Stephenson, and the Pacers quickly became the second worst nightmare Erik Spoelstra could have; the first of course being Pat Riley coming out of the stands to ask “have you seen my clipboard?”

The outcome of Monday’s game was far more than “LeBron being LeBron” or the Big Three finally engaging themselves at the same time. It was more than the “will of a champion” or the Heat having stars and the Pacers having players who may or may not be stars depending on who you’re talking to, the day of the week and the price of oil in China. So close, yet so far away.

It came down plain and simply to turnovers. The Pacers were careless with the ball which would be a creative strategy to employ for any coach who actually wants to win. 21 turnovers in an elimination game can be a sign of many things. The short list includes: inexperience, youth, poor eyesight, teammates in camouflage uniforms and really, really dumb decisions. Those who watched Indiana Monday night know the answer is “D All of the Above”.

There’s a restless look in your eyes tonight (Paul George), there’s a secret hurt in my heart (strange little hardhat wearing man who carries a pink flamingo around to every Pacer game), and the dream that pulls us together (winning a championship), is the dream that pulls us apart (this last part is up to Vogel and the Pacers front office to prevent). So close, yet so far away.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

A Warning to Well Intentioned Pacer Fans

First appeared on April 24th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Standing 6 feet 9 inches tall and weighing 225 pounds, Josh Smith is a big man. As someone who boasts career highs of 38 points, 22 rebounds, 11 assists and 10 blocks, Josh Smith can be scary good. And you probably don’t need me telling you anyone with the nickname “J Smoove” is clearly capable of world domination in anything, anytime, anywhere.

The AP’s recount of his performance in the opening round of the Playoffs so accurately summarized the life-giving bolt of invigoration Smith’s game can be, “He scored 15 points and grabbed 8 rebounds in Atlanta’s 107-90 defeat”. Talk about world domination indeed.

So it begs the question, after Smith was so lackluster in Sunday’s loss, why would anyone in the non-Atlanta media be quick to call him out? Mike Wells of the Indy Star said “The more jumpers Smith takes…the less likely the Hawks will win” and Pacer Blogger Conrad Brunner bluntly declared “Josh Smith is the worst good player I’ve ever seen”.
If Smith wants to go through the motions defensively and fire up long jump shots early in the shot clock, who are we to tell him no?

What do we care? We’re not Hawks fans or “Smoovers and Shakers” (Affectionate nickname given to card carrying members of the “J-Smoove” fan club; only a guess here). What do these people want? Are they hoping Smith drops 40 on the Blue and Gold? Do they want the Pacers’ first round match up to be more than a tune up? Clearly they’ve never dealt with anyone younger than ten years old.
The Hawks are a shell of a playoff team and Smith is the only person capable of making them as un-shell like as possible.

As Pacer fans, rather than tearing Smith down, now is the time we should be building him up. Telling him he’s the best 30% Three Point shooter we’ve ever seen and asking him to sign the ball we caught after another one of his errant passes has rocketed over a teammates hands before landing in our laps.

We should let him know the fact he led the Hawks in turnovers for a second straight season simply means his teammates need their vision checked or may have to actually click on a link and read something when he’s told them to Google “How to catch a basketball” for the twentieth time. He needs to hear that his 50% shooting from the foul line this season is more than enough justification to stand 30 feet from the basket and hoist jumpers until his shoulder goes numb or the rest of his teammates have lost interest, walked off the court and tweeted #neverplayingbasketballagain from the locker room.

In short Smith is a sleeping giant, let him rest. He’s the only person capable of making this series longer than it needs to be. If Pacers fans are lucky, Smith will continue pretending to play hard and Hawks fans will continue to pretend to care when their team loses. He’s a Five Tool player, the only problem for Atlanta right now is that Smith’s five tools are scoring, rebounding, defending, ball handling and only performing on the third Tuesday of every other month.

Perhaps most amazing of all is the fact Smith is finishing a contract year. But there’s no time for second guessing. Let’s all quietly bear witness now, for the day is coming when we’ll sit our children down to tell them how we watched J Smoove doin’ work. Of course that will require a complete transformation of the word ‘work’, but you’ll figure something out.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

This Time Maybe It's Not About the Money

First appeared on February 25, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

A gallon of premium gasoline hit $4.00 this week. And, for those looking to diversify their chosen method of transportation, they aren’t giving hogs away either. We in the 99% realize money is tight these days and, with the ‘Roaring Twenties’ firmly in our rearview, most in the Midwest have been raised to keep an eye on the sky and a tight grip on their wallets.

So you go to the coffee shop for a bottomless cup, knowing it’s also one of the last places a free newspaper still exists, one without pay walls and pop ups. But the rack is empty so you slide to the counter, sandwiched between an insurance man on the prowl and a newly retired newspaperman. The buzzing chatter seems to intimate Al Qaeda is behind the rising price of hogs and the Indiana Pacers are fighting a rash of empty seats downtown.

The team itself is surely not to blame you theorize, after all they’ve axed ticket prices, given away everything from umbrellas to bobble head dolls, hired plate twirlers who set themselves on fire while swallowing a fistful of Asian Forest Scorpions just to entertain the folks at halftime and still, despite all this, the Fieldhouse remains half empty.

At 14 games over .500 Indiana has one of the top teams in the East, one that has already defeated the defending World Champions twice this season. One that includes a group of young men who trust each other, know no jealousies and can rely upon the services of a budding superstar poised to leave many Pacer fans wondering “Reggie who?” soon. And still it’s not been enough to get people to put down the remote, load the kids in the car and drop a hard earned Benjamin Franklin at BLF.

Considering there is no half-full optimism in the Pacers Marketing Department, they must be wondering if maybe, this time anyhow, it’s not about money. When one takes a second to look at the state of the NBA (for a second is all many can tolerate anyway) it isn’t entirely clear what one sees. Clearly it boasts the most athletic and ultra talented basketball players on Earth playing a fast paced, physical game above the rim. One might be left believing this alone would be enough to spin the turnstiles nightly but such has not been the case, at least not in Indianapolis.

Some blame the Colts, others the Hoosiers and still another lost soul makes some hair brained proclamation it’s somehow or another connected to race. Alas many have missed the most obvious of villains; apathy. Apathy, not about the Pacers themselves, but rather what the Association has become.

Apathy borne from multimillionaires complaining about having to practice and wear ties to games. Apathy that results from seeing a self-proclaimed Superman quit on his team only to fly cross-country with designs on teaming up with a Superstar. One already in possession of a reputation for taking 95% of the shots and yet we pretend to be shocked when his spoiled toddler shtick continues after discovering the aforementioned Superstar continues taking 95% of the shots.

Apathy that can only result from a man already living the dream of millions intentionally firing an air ball up in a game before storming to the locker room upon learning his coach is somehow disappointed in him. If I could hand David Stern a solution we’d all be eating bacon on our doughnuts and driving Hummers. Until then, understand apathy here means fans lack the hunger required to jump those hoops associated with attending games; and the sooner the NBA addresses this, the better.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Pacers Surging, not Surprising

First appeared on January 17, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

When I was ten years old my English teacher became so distraught at my inability to make a lower case cursive q she had me sweating my chances at making fifth grade. “Why can’t you be more like Adam Montgomery?” she would croon and howl as I squiggled out one puny lower case cursive q after another.

In my defense Adam Montgomery was state of the art. What with his Rockwellian family, athletic prowess and flawless upper case D. First in gym class sprints, first in board races, line leader and hall monitor, Montgomery was the kind of kid who would have stood in front of Mt. Rushmore huffing, “I thought it’d be bigger.”

Nobody measured up to Adam Montgomery, and the incessant comparisons my teachers made turned most exhausting by our Senior year. My being forever doomed to a coach seat on the midnight train to Nowheresville made Adam Montgomery seem larger than life. As if he didn’t put his pants on one leg at a time and still need a mother’s reminder to close the barn door like everyone else.

I never mastered the lower case q and, looking back now, I don’t know what’s more surprising, the fact Adam Montgomery isn’t a world renowned guru making regular visits to the White House as a handwriting tutor for the Obama girls, or that I haven’t used cursive since fifth grade.

But it would seem Adam Montgomery and the Miami Heat aren’t far apart in their state of the art-ed-ness. The talking heads say nobody can beat the Heat, so it is the remainder of this much too long season and impending playoffs are about as relevant as the Mayan calendar.

If Montgomery was the Heat before the Heat were even the Heat then, in my teacher's eyes, I surely was the Pacers. Of course I was a much shorter, slower, less athletic and not as wealthy version, but the point here lies in the opinion of the masses being Montgomery was invincible.

Over the last week the Heat have proven themselves human. Losers of 4 out of their last 7, Miami suddenly doesn’t seem like the sure-fire lock for another Eastern Conference Title they once did. And meanwhile the Pacers are surging.

Surging without the “one time soon to be face of the franchise” Danny Granger in the line up. Surging despite all the NBA headlines targeting the dysfunctional Lakers, bloviating that a cure for more wins could lie in their firing of a second coach this season alone. Surging in spite of a maxed out center stumbling through an awkward, midseason identity crisis.

Surging on the wings of a budding young superstar who is discovering himself more and more with every game. But, most notably, surging on the wings of solid defense being played with consistent effort. This last part of the equation was notably absent earlier in the season (see the 90-89 loss to Charlotte in November and subsequent 4-6 start). In giving a solid defensive effort every night, Indiana seems to have found its niche.

And it’s been their ability to channel this “inner Adam Montgomery” that’s led to Indiana’s correcting a season that was bordering a steep, irreversible nose dive. A correction that’s seen their ascension to the top spot in the Central Division and third best record in the East.

But will it be enough? None of us could ever reach the stratosphere Adam Montgomery so nonchalantly called home back then and it still remains to be seen if anyone in the NBA, Pacers included, can match the Heat stride for stride come April.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

The Difference between Indiana and L.A.

First appeared on September 16th, 2012
in The Lebanon Reporter

So the Lakers start out 1-4 and Head Coach Mike Brown gets an unexpected vacation. And what can you really say, it is L.A. after all. There are no surprises here. The Pacers, with all their lofty preseason goals, have stumbled out to a 3-6 record and there is no groundswell to send Frank Vogel packing; even after a disappointing two point home loss to Toronto was followed by a game in Milwaukee where they trailed by 30 at one point. I suppose that’s the difference between Indiana and L.A.

A little Midwestern patience versus the ‘what have you done for me today’ mentality of the West Coast. The Lakers are masters at the art of sleepwalking through the regular season, winning just enough games to get a decent playoff seed before throwing themselves into winning a championship with everything they’ve got.

And yet this appears to be the mentality of the Pacers to this point. The trouble with following this blueprint is of course that the Pacers are not the Lakers. They do not have a rich championship pedigree or one of the largest fan bases in professional sports; and more to the point they don’t have Kobe Bryant. Such is the difference between Indiana and L.A.

So you have a franchise willing to can a coach a week into the regular season. One that has, with great regularity, made its name sending one aging All Star after another packing in favor of newer, younger models. A franchise that has amassed more championships than half the league combined. This is the difference between Indiana and L.A.

And so the Pacer fan waits. Patiently. His team will figure this out. They will discover that great defense begats steady offense. Their young coach will find a way to string some wins together and their sharpshooting small forward will return just in time to round himself into shape before the playoffs. There will be no panic inspired trades or front office demands. Such is the difference between Indiana and L.A.

For all Reggie Miller went through one can’t imagine a time when he would have felt it necessary to give his “blessing” to the hiring of a coach. In fact it’s unimaginable to think he’d have ever demanded a trade if the front office didn’t change coaches or turn the Earth on its axis trying to rebuild the roster. Pacer fans loved Thirty-One not for the championships he tallied, but for the memories he left behind. Memories of an underdog throwing unabashed uppercuts. But I suppose that’s the difference between Indiana and L.A.

And so we’ll remain the small market ne’er do wells. Sure we’ll still buy our tickets, eat our corndogs and be happy with maybe winning a first round series, maybe not. And while most days we’re just happy to have a little professional franchise to call our own, we’ll also be quick to tell you all about that one time we flirted with a championship. How in one fell swoop a franchise and a fan base both were taught the hard and cruel lesson that there’s more to winning an NBA Title than heart, hustle and desire.

How sometimes there are powers bigger than you at play. And so now when we tuck our children in at night we’re sure to remind them that sometimes in life the monsters under our beds may or may not have the authority to award the other team free throws and send your best players to the bench with foul trouble, and this is why we aren’t the lead story on SportsCenter. But such is the difference between Indiana and L.A.

© 2012 Eric Walker Williams

Pacers can't let big Roy walk

First appeared on July 10th,2012
in The Lebanon Reporter

It’s the unexpected that keeps us moving forward. Most can forecast the mundane with greater accuracy than an AMS certified weatherman. Things like bills, bad reports from the dentist or the fact your yard will at some point need to be mowed again are all the harsh realities of life; but it’s those little nuggets of the unexpected that keep us on our toes.

Things like a co-worker’s comment that digs at you for days or the moment the Bachelorette gets interrupted by a Special Report just as she’s about to tell a fourth different guy she loves him or worse yet how about the Pacers finding out their biggest worry this off season won’t be bolstering their bench after all.

After completing his fourth season Pacers big man Roy Hibbert is a Restricted Free Agent. Many believed Hibbert would attract interest but nothing that would possibly lead him to google “Indianapolis area U-Haul dealers”. But a max deal from Portland has completely muddied the waters and now Hibberts future has never been more uncertain.

The first sign of trouble for the Pacers Brass was likely Hibbert’s selection to the All Star Team this past season. While they beamed for the press and slapped big Roy on the back during the announcement, what the photographs failed to show were the wheels that were already spinning in their minds. The math is easy to do even for those of us who loathe it.

All Stars command more money. And not only is Roy an All Star but he’s also one who works hard on his game and goes out of his way be a positive force in the community. From here the answer is simple. Sign Hibbert. Of course it’s far more complex than that.

There are factors at play here that a team of MIT Scientists and doctoral level economists can’t even put into terms simple enough to keep us from reacting like a monkey that’s just been handed processed banana chips in a vacuum sealed bag.
In this case the unexpected is painfully clear however.

Indiana needs to do whatever it takes to keep Hibbert in a Pacer uniform. And ‘whatever it takes’ means there appear to be many options the talking heads have overlooked. Hijacking a Brinks truck and setting up a counterfeiting ring in the basement of Bankers Life Fieldhouse are just two illegal methods that leap to mind. If public relations weren’t an issue the Pacers suits could go downtown and sit at the corner of Illinois and Maryland with a cup and cardboard sign reading “Keep Roy”. Lottery tickets, putting $10 million on Red and an Area 55 IPO are some of the more risky options for quick cash as well.

If you can work your way past the depressing (for us, not Roy) numbers and confusing semantics of the salary cap and focus simply on basketball in its purest form (yes I understand how laughable it is to include the NBA and pure basketball in the same thought) Hibbert makes Indiana better. He’s not a 30 and 10 guy, but the list of things he does to help Indiana win games is quite lengthy.

Losing Hibbert would be a setback the Pacers would spend 3-4 years recovering from. And by that point the young promising team they’ve assembled will be a decent yet aging team making perennial trips to the first round of the playoffs and staying just long enough to dip a toe in. And if this is what actually comes of this young core, the Pacers suits will find themselves on Illinois and Maryland anyway.

© 2012 Eric Walker Williams

That old familiar feeling for Pacer Fans

First appeared on May 26th, 2012
in The Lebanon Reporter

So the Pacers bid to upset the Miami Heat fell short. Thirty two points short in Game 5 to be exact. And as the Pacers ride off into the sunset for greener fairways and All-Inclusive resorts with white sandy beaches, the rest of us are left to ponder what could have been.

Pacer fans sit with incredulous faces, popcorn littered at their feet, luke warm beers in hand. A golden army 15,000 strong sitting in complete silence. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. When was the last time Hollywood gave us a blockbuster where the bad guys actually won?

It was almost a magical story. The Indiana legend turned Executive of the Year and his band of blue collar players, those same players who were branded misfits by the media and NBA officiating during the series, almost eliminating the league’s two sacred cows. In the end it wasn’t the MVP who stepped on the Pacers throat, rather it was Dwayne Wade who made so many impossible shots Thursday night it seemed as if he were trying to beat himself in a game of Horse.

But beyond the court the Pacers have aroused within us a spirit of bygone days. The inner Pacer fan in all of us had lay dormant for many moons. We first crawled our way into the cave in 2000 when the Pacers made the NBA Finals only to go on and lose in 6 games to the Lakers. Hibernation seemed the only tonic strong enough to prevent what we all saw coming; the collapse of a franchise that had carried us through the 90’s. And while we struggled to keep our eyes propped open through Reggie’s retirement, we succumbed to the sweet relief of slumber through the Brawl and subsequent countless nightclub melees and shootings. And we snored long and hard through many a fruitless season.

Now with a spirited performance against the Heat, the Pacers have done nothing but leave an entire fan base wanting more. Younger fans got a taste of what we all gorged ourselves upon during the days of the Davis boys and the Dunking Dutchman and yet now the lights are out in Banker’s Life and the only person moving up and down the floor is a lonely custodian sweeping away the blood, sweat and tears of another lost season.

Unanswered questions remain. What will become of Larry? Will Roy Hibbert and George Hill be back? The Pacers front office and players have both done so much work to get to this point that it would seem this group deserves to stay together at least until West’s contract expires. And one would think pushing Miami as far as Indiana did would be enough to eradicate the scourge of empty seats that has befallen Banker’s Life Fieldhouse for lo these many years.

So as the Aussies say, “Belt Up” Indiana Fans. It’s time to move on. But as you do, remember to nurture what the Pacers gave you this year. For it is a seed. A seed of hope. Make sure you care for it. Give it all the love and attention it requires for that seed holds great promise. Perhaps next year, or at some other not so distant point, that seed will bloom into the promises that went unfulfilled oh so many moons ago.

© 2012 Eric Walker Williams

Pacers must find a way to turn down the Heat

First appeared on May 15th, 2012
in The Lebanon Reporter

OK so Sunday didn’t turn out to be the bloodbath so many had predicted. And though the Heat are one step closer to proving Jon Barry’s theory of a sure-fire Miami sweep correct, what remains to be seen is not the outcome of the series but rather how the Pacers will respond. Compounding matters for fans of the Blue and Gold, it would seem Miami took Indiana’s best punch in the first half Sunday and rallied to win with a dominating Fourth Quarter.

Of course the experts love for the Heat is nothing new. I’m sure had ESPN covered the Germans during World War II or filmed a 30 for 30 on Napoleon, they would have given the Russian’s no shot as well. The trouble of course is the magic of the upset lies in the fact nobody sees it coming. Who knew Stalingrad would become a Hornets nest capable of crippling Hitler’s Eastern advance? Or that Napoleon would taste defeat for the first time at the hands of an army perhaps made most famous by their propensity for retreat?

And really, who can fault those in the full-time-not-pretend media? The truth is the predictability of the NBA is tiresome. Of course the quintessentially obstinate American in all of us would say this is simply all the more reason for Indiana to take Miami down.

Let us not forget the Heat are the epitome of everything that is wrong with professional basketball. In a league completely driven by Superstars and propped up by those who gaze at them in captivated wonderment, Miami has three of them. Three talented men who should be filling seats on their own in smaller markets. Three men who came together and used the magic powers of artificial smoke and strobe lights to morph into the “Big Three”; a trio of superheroes joining forces to do something they clearly felt incapable of doing alone.

Meanwhile with no true Superstar, Indiana is the Yin to Miami’s Yang. They have no cult following. They are not paparazzi worthy. Heck, the only time Banker’s Life ever saw a smoke machine was when House of Hair came to town. On paper the match-up doesn’t have the magnetism of Ali-Frazier, but the fact remains there are no guarantees in life (see Lugar, Richard).

So while David Stern busies himself ensuring that those elves in his workshop busy engraving the Larry O’Brien Trophy realize the ‘b’ in LeBron is in fact capitalized, the Pacers need to set their jaw, clench their fists and get ready to take their best shot at Miami; again. Only this time hit harder, hit smarter and don’t let them get up when you have them down.

And after a 95-86 loss Sunday, Indiana remains at a crossroads. In a Pacer blue convertible the dapper Frank Vogel is slumped at the wheel while in the passenger seat alongside Larry gnaws at a thumbnail with Boomer’s overinflated head looking on from the backseat he’s sharing with that one guy with the hardhat, flip signs and pink flamingo.

They can forge ahead, take their medicine and lay down as Miami rolls on to the Eastern Conference Finals, or they can put their turn signal on and take the NBA for an unexpected ride. Tuesday night the basketball world will wait breathlessly to see if Indiana fights back, if Vogel follows his league-issued Garmin, or will we hear the presumptuous voice of David Stern choking out “RECALCULATING!!” as the Pacers try to derail the only sure thing the NBA has had since the Zenmaster traded his clipboard for a fly rod.

© 2012 Eric Walker Williams

Pacers are Back Baby!

First appeared on April 28th
in The Lebanon Reporter

“Hello relevance, my old friend. It’s been a long time. Seems like just yesterday Reggie was slinging 3’s from the rafters with Slick swooning ‘Boom Baby!’ into the microphone as if he were one Davis boy dunk away from keeling over for good.” If the Pacers Franchise were a comatose patient granted an unforeseen and temporary reprieve from the land of squash and turnips to utter his first words in 10 years as friends and family look on in disbelief, there is no question this would be the bleary eyed response.

The Pacers are back. And we don’t mean back from vacation or back from the dead, rather they are back in the land of relevance.
Finally the Blue and Gold are more than a bottom feeding zygote fighting for the last playoff spot in a Conference dominated by sub .500 teams. In fact they have the 3rd best record in the Eastern Conference and 5th best in the League.

And for you fans of the artificial cacophony of whining Indy Cars being piped in over the Banker’s Life loudspeaker, it would seem things are coming together at the right time. Danny Granger is no longer shooting the ball as if he were the victim of a botched Lasik procedure while David West has been playing out of his mind the last two weeks. And while Darren Collison appears to be handling his demotion like a mature veteran, fans of the Blue and Gold should also relish the fact the Pacers are healthy and, perhaps more importantly, Orlando’s Dwight Howard is not.

Saturday the Pacers will begin just their second Playoff Series since 2006 and it’s been a long road. From the depths of the Brawl Larry Bird bid Reggie farewell and basically kicked everyone else off the elevator with the exception of Jeff Foster (who took himself off earlier this year by retiring). It hasn’t exactly been a meteoric rise either. There were times when the elevator jammed (see Shawne Williams and Jammal Tinsley) and there were times when those non-part-time-pretend sports columnists wanted Larry to step off as well.

But finally it would seem the Blue and Gold are nearing the Penthouse Suite. And on their way they’ve shot past so many others including Rick Santorum, whose polite nod assured the doorman he was in fact heading down. The problem for the Pacers now is that someone has hung a tag on the door to the top floor which reads “Ocupado”. By all accounts the Miami Heat and Chicago Bulls appear to be chummy roomies in the Eastern Conference Penthouse Suite and it would seem there is no room for an upstart franchise, especially one from a small market with no Superstar or NBA Championship Pedigree.

So there’s only one way to get inside now. If Indiana wants to break through this year they’ll have to kick the door down Steven Segal style. And while it will take more than skin tight blue jeans, a ponytail and some really poorly written (and equally as poorly delivered) catch phrases to get past Orlando, Indiana seems poised to make a run at least at the Eastern Conference Finals this year.

Of course along the way Larry and Frank Vogel will likely need to stop on Commissioner Stern’s floor first to collect some hardware, but the last stop most definitely is the Penthouse. And before you fret, I’m fairly certain Paul, Danny, Roy and the rest will be happy to squeeze in to make room for you should you choose to come along for the ride.


© 2012 Eric Walker Williams

Despite record, Pacers' attendance woes continue

First appeared on April 12th, 2012
in The Lebanon Reporter

In my hometown the corner barber shop was the place to go for the low down. To find out what the weather would be like that week or how much Artie Johnson paid for that new truck with the fancy running boards and tinted rain guards. It was also the place the old hayseeds gathered on Saturday mornings to ruminate the fallout of Friday night’s high school game. Old men in overalls who chewed longleaf tobacco and cursed the new varsity coach, openly lamenting the death of the underhanded free throw.

Most know Indiana for two things, the deep fried Twinkie and a long love affair with basketball. I first learned how much basketball meant to me from hearing those hayseeds, their passion as strong as their gnarled hands.

So you take a team with the 3rd best record in the NBA’s Eastern Conference and one with a budding young star grouped with a collection of no-nonsense, hardnosed players and you’d expect to find them near the top in league attendance. Especially if you were told that same team with the high flying wing and the bruising power forward played its home games in Indiana, the self-proclaimed capital of Basketball-land.

Currently however the Indiana Pacers are edging out the New Jersey nets for 29th place in attendance (convenient time to remind you there are only 30 teams in the NBA). And when you factor in the fact the Jersey mafia has more than likely killed off another 7 season ticket holders since I pounded this out, the Nets are technically drawing more people to games than we are.

So what is to explain this plague of empty seats that has fallen upon our Pacers? I, like fans of the Cleveland Cavaliers and ESPN analysts explaining why the Heat have yet to win a Title, blame LeBron. Unfortunately the NBA has become a cult of personality and Indiana, like Brother Mitt, simply has none.

When one considers every other Top Flight Playoff Team there’s no shortage of stars. Durant, Howard, Bryant, Nowitzki, the list reads like a Who’s Who of people the average basketball player wishes they were, or at the very least could be for a day. OK, so maybe a month. A month of 4 Star hotels, pregame massages, paychecks that read like a lottery windfall and an endless line of wide eyed autograph seekers you have to muster the energy just to grumble over. Just a month of that and you are happy to go back to accounting. Back to trying to determine why the guy in the cubicle next to you, the one who loves Public Radio and drives a car nobody can hear coming, always smells like cucumbers.

The Pacers could have put all their money in one hat and thrown it at a big name free agent. Maybe even Dwight Howard. Yes perhaps Superman himself would be willing to come here; if only it were written in his contract that the Pacers be willing to fire their coach anytime Howard found himself struck with the notion of course.

And if it’s not a “cult of personality” issue, then it surely is a bad case of lockout fatigue. No matter the real direction fingers need be pointed in that whole ugly lockout mess, at the end of the day you’re smart enough to realize it was still someone with more money than you would see in five lifetimes asking for even more money.

It’s a sad story indeed. And one that would surely have the old men in the barber shop spitting on the floor.


© 2012 Eric Walker Williams

Tales from Jim O'Brien's Christmas Stocking

First appeared on December 16th, 2009
in The Lebanon Reporter

As Colts coach Jim Caldwell struggles with how best to play out his schedule, he has not been at a loss for advice. To the surprise of nobody, Peyton Manning and Dwight Freeney both say they want to play but will accept Caldwell’s decision. Most understand the pressures of mainstream society require that all card-carrying members of “The Former Coaches of America Club” weigh in on such unclear issues. Former Bears Coach Mike Ditka says play your starters till the end while Tony Dungy sticks by his decision to rest guys when there is nothing left to play for. While Caldwell wrestles with his decision, across town another professional coach is struggling with issues of his own. At the time of writing this the Pacers, despite winning two straight, were still 5 games under .500 and had just lost Danny Granger for a month.
While the Pacers struggles can’t be hung solely on one player, they likely will wind up hanging one man. It’s probably safe to say Pacer Coach Jim O’Brien’s season isn’t off to the start he’d hoped for. Though off season acquisitions Dahntay Jones and Tyler Hansbrough have brought excitement the Pacers still find themselves one game away from slipping into the Central Division basement; and taking up permanent residence here is likely not the best career move O’Brien could make right now.
According to the numbers the Pacers are better defensively. This comes as a relief after a long off-season that saw the front office wear the word defense out just as the mass media have drummed the Tiger Woods story to death. What then is the explanation?
One issue is Danny Granger. As good as he has been on the offensive end the Pacers need more from him defensively. Bird needs to rig the Pacer Secret Santa draw so he can gift Granger a DVD of Michael Jordan’s Greatest Hits. The idea is to understand how Mike dominated BOTH ends of the floor. To take his game to the next level, and win more games, Granger needs to welcome the match up with the opponent’s best offensive player (translation: stop making Jones guard LeBron). Granger’s athletic 6’8 frame should be enough to help him lock down the top scorers in the league.
The second hint Santa would stick in Jim O’Brien’s stocking if he were a Pacers fan is that its time to sit TJ Ford. In virtually every Pacer loss the team has suffered though dry spells where they’ve made scoring points look like a third grader trying to do Calculus. This falls on the point guard. It took Jarrett Jack about two months to put some doubt in O’Brien’s mind last year as to who should be starting. With Jack gone to Toronto, the same has now happened with Earl Watson.
The point is clear. When Watson is on the floor, the Pacers are stronger defensively and the ball moves better. Open shots are just one direct result of good ball movement and, with the shooters the Pacers have, finding more open shots should be enough to avoid those dreaded dry spells that have plagued them all season.
The point is not to give up on Ford. He can be a nice change of pace off the bench and provide your second five with some offense. If he doesn’t want this however, then the point is to give up on Ford.