Indiana Hoosiers don't have time to be young

First appeared on November 26, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

When Syracuse beat Indiana last March Tom Crean looked like a guy who’d let half his 401K ride on Tyson beating Buster Douglas. His energetic and positive mannerisms were replaced with the same disgusted look Ralphie sported upon discovering his Little Orphan Annie Secret Decoder Ring only told him to “drink your Ovaltine”.

And who can blame him? Indiana had spent 10 weeks at number one and finished fifth in the nation in scoring only to go down in flames with a 50 point performance in the Sweet Sixteen. It was supposed to be “the year”. Everyone was back. This includes Crean’s roster as well as Hoosier Nation, shoulder to shoulder for the first time since Bobby gave his farewell speech to students in Dunn Meadow. The same hormone-fueled students who took a break from keg standing and bathing with Hairy Buffalo long enough to pretend they actually understood this white haired guy whose shtick was a propensity for demanding respect, launching into vulgar laden tirades, form-fitting red sweaters and a strong right hand.

Indiana had come so far under Crean’s guidance, but 12-13 was to be more than another building block. It was to be a banner year. And by “banner year” we’re not talking about cutting down the nets following a home loss (note to Tom: Next time the voices in your head tell you to wheel the ladders out after a loss, keep stuffing gum into their mouths until you can no longer understand them).

Beyond the ugly loss, Crean’s incredulous demeanor was more a reaction to his knowing the heart of his program had taken its final beat. After that loss Super Sophomore Cody Zeller and Junior standout Victor Oladipo both declared for the draft. This while graduation took gutsy sharpshooter, and former Mr. Basketball, Jordan Hulls along with Christian Watford, one who will forever be remembered for nailing one of the greatest shots in Hoosier history. And there was no measure of clapping that could ever bring them back.

So, unsure of what lay ahead, a weak kneed Crean boarded a plane headed back to Bloomington; rocketing into bitter darkness. Criticism abounded as he found himself in the crosshairs for the first time. For, just as the nation had tired of hearing the President blame his predecessor, suddenly mentioning Kelvin Samson’s name wasn’t enough either.

Enter the most promising Freshman class Crean has amassed in his tenure at Indiana. More to the point, enter Noah Vonleh and Troy Williams. Thursday night’s near twenty point victory over Pac 10 power Washington allowed Hoosier fans to take their first steps toward a brave new world.

If anything, this group is exciting. Vonleh’s a hard worker who punishes people inside while Williams is busy watching it all from above the rim. And as Vonleh and Williams have been busy opening eyes, Indianapolis product Devin Davis has assumed the role of team Swiss Army Knife by rolling his sleeves and doing little things winners require.

Indeed, all this talent is useless without proper direction. And if there’s one person who wasn’t devastated by last year’s departures it’s Yogi Ferrell. The sophomore point guard has been more everything. More vocal, more aggressive, more effective and more dominant.

So the Hoosiers have replenished their talent pool and fans are slowly reloading the bandwagon. Now Crean must accept blueprints can’t be four year plans. In today’s college basketball the window of opportunity is much smaller. So the challenge is before him. To avoid another long plane ride, Crean must find a way to squeeze as many wins out of this young roster as possible.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Move over '72 Dolphins, here come the Indiana Pacers

First appeared on November 8th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Move over ’72 Miami Dolphins here come the Indiana Pacers. At 5-0 and coming off a big win over Central Division rival Chicago, Indiana appears unstoppable and seems poised to run the table. 82-0 has never happened and those who say it can’t are the same glass half empty contrarians who told Roger Bannister he’d never break a 4:00 mile or snickered when Mark Zuckerberg said one day half the planet would waste hours of their own lives looking at online photos of other peoples cats dressed in Halloween costumes.

An undefeated NBA team usually means you’ve played a string of home games to start the year, caught somebody without their Superstar and won one or two at the buzzer. This is the typical 5-0 start to an NBA season. But to borrow a phrase from a 90’s Rapper with a penchant for obnoxious jewelry and pants large enough to fit the business end of an Elephant, the Pacers’ 5-0 start is legit; yes “too legit to quit” in fact.

Pushing an aging Miami Heat team to the final game of the Eastern Conference Finals wasn’t enough for the Pacers brass to toss their golf clubs in the trunk while embracing their inner Cubs fan. They went on the offensive instead, securing Power Forward David West’s services for another three years while also adding some complimentary pieces to an already talented roster.

Back-up point guard C.J. Watson and long distance dead eye Chris Copeland were two free agents brought in with the intention of making the Blue and Gold bench more reliable. Of all the acquisitions however, Luis Scola appears the odds on favorite to win the “That one guy who gave us just enough firepower to finally get past Miami in the Playoffs” Award. In his seventh season out of Argentina, Scola brings the toughness, hustle and rebounding expertise of a Tyler Hansbrough (who stumbled around and elbowed his way to Toronto in the off season) along with the much needed ability to score in various ways.

While so much has been made about the possible return of Danny Granger, Lance Stephenson and Paul George have shown what an off season spent out of the clubs and in the gym can do. Both have raised their level of play this year including George who has scored over 20 points in every game so far.

And who could forget the man in the middle? Roy Hibbert’s performance has been so altogether inspirational it will likely result in Area 55 being expanded to include the entire lower bowl of Banker’s Life. The Big Fella is averaging over 5 blocks a game and, perhaps more importantly, is yet to foul out. In short the Pacers won’t be beaten, can’t be beaten for that matter.

So while the Heat spend their time learning to handle a Just for Men applicator and trying to get logged in to the Affordable Health Care Website, Indiana will continue to drum every team that crosses their path. At this rate the Central Division should be locked up by the end of November and home court throughout the playoffs will be Larry Bird’s Christmas gift to Pacer fans everywhere.

I’ll be the first to admit knowing you are going to win the next 77 games in a row does take some of the excitement out of watching them, but true fans will gut it out no matter how pointless it may seem. So hang in there Pacer Fans and enjoy every moment, no matter how uneventful the ride may be.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Welcome Home Peyton?

First appeared on October 25th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Welcome Home Peyton, it’s good to see you again. We’ve missed you so much we decided to give you a 39-33 beat down on national television. OK, so maybe “beat down” goes too far when describing Sunday night, but surely it wasn’t the coming home party Manning envisioned.

The guys “coming home” after all. When was the last time you went home and got punched in the face? (all apologies to Anthony Weiner, this isn’t about you). This was supposed to be a smile for the cameras before tossing ten touchdowns and making Jim Irsay eat the biggest plate of crow since Skip Bayless ridiculed the Colts for letting Manning go to draft Andrew Luck kind of night.

But it wasn’t. Instead it became the Colts making Manning look ordinary despite the fact he was on pace to have the greatest season in NFL history. There was no moment Manning looked comfortable. From the video tribute where he made the Spartan-like gesture of removing his helmet to acknowledge the fans, to the first drive, to Robert Mathis and his sack-fumble-safety, Manning looked rattled from start to finish.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Colts fans longed to see Manning light the scoreboard up, if only to come up short in the end. They didn’t want to see four sacks, countless wobbly ducks and Britton Colquitt taking the field seven times.

They wanted a shootout at the OK Corrall between Andrew “The Kid” Luck and “The Sheriff”. What they got instead was a dominating Colt defense and a victory that somehow left them feeling sorry for the greatest quarterback in NFL history.

The hype machine had us drooling with anticipation. To welcome him home, we envisioned the city of Indianapolis replacing Lady Victory with a bust of Manning while the State legislature would lobby Washington to make Indiana the 18th state. Jim Irsay would cough up enough coin to commission a statue of Manning while Roger Goodell would make an appearance to knight “the Sheriff” beforehand.

Manning would take the field on a litter toted by the Broncos Offensive Line while the London Symphony Orchestra (accompanied by a nattily clad Jim Nabors) cranked out their own rendition of “Back Home Again in Indiana”. From the stands wives would faint into the arms of their husbands, thrusting them once again into the eternal struggle of woman vs. beer.

Meanwhile children in Manning Colt jerseys their parents are too cheap to replace, would sob uncontrollably as if the jumbo-tron had just revealed Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny are both fictionalized products of an unstable economic model based upon consumerism.
This was the welcome home Manning was to have, the welcome home he deserved.

What the Colts gave him Sunday night flies in the face of everything ‘Hoosier Hospitality’ stands for. And so we’re left to ponder just how much of Manning’s ineffectiveness was a product of the Colt pass rush and secondary play, and how much of it was his inability to move past the fact he was playing in Indianapolis again.

Is it possible the man who tried for so long to mask his emotions, was so overcome with them that it actually impacted his play? All these years Defensive Coordinators charged with stopping Manning have lost time pounding their heads against the wall while chain smoking cheap cigarettes when the answer was right there in front of their faces.

The best way to attack Manning is not with an exotic blitz package or Nickel coverage, rather it’s to strike straight for the heart. For after Sunday night, this appears to be his lone vulnerability.

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© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Hello Indiana, this is Football

First appeared on October 7th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Historically speaking Indiana and football are two words that have shared an awkward moment when finding themselves in the same sentence, not unlike ‘extra large and diet coke’ or ‘functional and government’.

They were those two kids at the middle school dance lingering in opposite corners, one fighting to hide braces, the other using shadows to cure a bad case of acne, so many having tried before to bring them together only to fail in a miserable, flaming ball of disappointment and loss. Lots of losses.

But that has changed. Saturday was more than just a victory over Penn State for the Indiana Hoosiers. It was more than just their first win in 17 tries against the Nittany Lions. Saturday was different. Saturday was a glimmer of hope for Hoosier nation, a shot in the arm for Kevin Wilson’s program and potential vindication for IU athletic director Fred Glass.

Aside from taping a million dollars under one of Memorial Stadium’s 52,000 seats, Glass has done nearly everything in his power to get people to come to The Rock. This includes a multi-million dollar North End Zone renovation, erecting the largest flagpole in college athletics, adding a new scoreboard, developing a play area for the kids and now, apparently, fielding a defense capable of making the stops necessary to beat quality Big Ten opponents.

But just like that church that tries to get younger by offering a full coffee bar, free donuts, sermons best timed with a stopwatch, digital projectors and live music featuring electric guitars, drum machine and confusing front man who seems more interested in finding a captive audience than flirting with real faith, people initially attend out of curiosity. It’s real belief that brings them back every time.

Before Saturday real belief in Indiana Football simply didn’t exist. While Glass’ hiring of former Oklahoma Offensive Coordinator Kevin Wilson was seen as a coup at the time, two years of continued frustration saw Wilson entering the third year of his contract as an unproven commodity.

Labeled a mad scientist by some for his offensive innovation, the fact alone Wilson left a prominent position with one of the perennial powers in college football to take the Indiana job is reason enough to consider him mad. For, before Wilson’s arrival, Indiana had been a place where good coaches went to die.

But Saturday the world got a glimpse of what Wilson imagined his Hoosiers could be. Potent on offense, stout on defense. And while Penn State may be a current shell of its former self, they remain a quality Big Ten opponent and another win in Indiana’s quest to return to a bowl.

Coming into Saturday, Indiana’s 2-2 start had left many fans fuzzy and disillusioned, uncertain that recognizable progress was being made. To quote former Arizona Cardinals head coach Dennis Green, it seemed as though the Hoosiers “are who we thought they were!”, a high powered offense and lackluster defense; the Loyola Marymount of Football.

But Saturday was different. Saturday was the first win over Penn State in school history. After coming up short against Navy and Missouri, Indiana found what they needed most; a victory over somebody they weren’t supposed to beat.

Moving forward, Doug Mallory and the Hoosier Defense appear destined to determine Indiana’s bowling fate. Wilson’s offense can score points against anybody in the country but the hope of playing 13 lies with the defense. And, at least for one afternoon, the defense gave hope to Hoosier Nation that football was more than a giant flagpole, million dollar scoreboard and endless activities for the kids.


© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Don't Feel Sorry for Captain Comeback

First appeared on September 25th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

The San Francisco 49ers have gone from their SuperBowl appearance to preseason favorites to win the NFC West to a team racked with desperation after a 1-2 start. In the throes of Sunday’s 27-7 win, euphoric Colts fans became strangely conflicted over images of a lonely man on the sidelines. The one sporting the black turtleneck, sharpie clipped to his neck hole. A laconic face forced to look on helplessly, anguishing over every play, staring at his team in disbelief. That’s not the Jim Harbaugh we remember.

Sunday Indy was flawless. The defense reacting from perfect position, tackling with textbook precision. And in a league fawning over the pass, the Colts jettisoned one of the best defenses in the NFL by promptly running the ball down their throat in the Fourth Quarter. So with four minutes remaining and their team leading, a long forgotten part of every Colts fan began thinking comeback.
For, Colin Kaepernick voodoo doll or not, the tide simply had to turn at some point. This is completely understandable considering Captain Comeback himself was at the helm of the enemy ship.
But in the end Harbaugh came up short again.

Alas, don’t feel sorry for the man and don’t offer a hand up. The sons of football coaches line their bird cages with “Get Well Soon” cards. Besides, Harbaugh’s Midas touch from last year only meant his clipper ship was bound to hit rough waters some time. That’s Murphy’s Law and nobody’s exempt from it except apparently Bashar Al-Assad and the Chicago Cubs.

And while they exchanged a quick handshake at midfield, perhaps Chuck Pagano owed his opponent more. After all Harbaugh’s prints are all over Pagano’s team and the franchise. From his Captain Comeback days to the grooming of Andrew Luck at Stanford to helping Colts Offensive Coordinator Pep Hamilton author a ball control running style that, at least on Sunday, looks very promising, this latest incarnation of the Indianapolis Colts were built following a blueprint Harbaugh authored.

To Colts Fans Harbaugh remains a hero whose fate is tied to one play. One that again saw their quarterback scrambling for his life trying to avoid one of the 36 sacks he survived that season. One play from David, clutching a well worn copy of Football for Dummies, the chapter on ‘Winning Football’ still bookmarked with a Mayflower packing slip, versus the Goliath that was the Pittsburgh Steelers defense.

One play, one Hail Mary that would determine the AFC representative in the SuperBowl. One wobbly pass that seemed to hang in the frigid Pittsburgh air for an entire season, pulling Colts fans one and all from their couches in unison only to watch as it ricocheted off players like Oswald’s magic bullet before falling to the cold, hard, Three Rivers turf.

We recognized Harbaugh’s steely stare, his fiery bravado. But by Sunday’s Fourth Quarter, the stare was blank and the Colts had doused the bravado, if only temporarily. There was no better time for Indianapolis to play their best game. Falling to 1-2 after a disappointing home loss the week before and the earth-shaking trade it prompted would have been bad. And by bad, we’re talking a “Jim Irsay lobbying Twitter for more than 140 characters” kind of bad.

So many are quick to credit Peyton Manning with creating a football culture in Indiana. But history tells us it was more likely the run the Colts made in 1995, primarily under Harbaugh’s guidance, that first planted the seed. A magical season that saw Captain Comeback, and a once hapless franchise, come one play away from the SuperBowl.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Johnny Football and the Case of the Missing Paycheck

First appeared on September 13, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

So Johnny Football put his Johnny Hancock on a few footballs and a stray mini-helmet or two and the world loses its mind. Meanwhile Syria continues to eat itself from the top down and Senator Dianne Feinstein goes on television to talk about intervention vowing to vote against her constituents because “quite simply, they don’t know what I know”. What a wonderful world indeed.

Though the same can’t be said for Senators, it used to be Heisman Trophy winners conducted themselves with class. They’d score their parents a luxury apartment on a “friend of the programs” dime and arrive at award shows via limousine, or in other cases flush a Hollywood career down the toilet after being accused of killing their ex-wife.

So Johnny Football sells some autographs, gets booted from a summer camp and does the same thing 97% of college students do with regularity anyway and suddenly he’s public enemy number two behind Bashar al-Assad. If History’s any guide, we should cut the kid some slack. After all, those who’ve come before haven’t exactly been ripped from a Rockwell painting.

For many years the argument for paying college athletes has welled up like a great reservoir of greed, equality, compassion, righteousness and justice (the last two we recognize as distant possibilities) behind a dam that is the NCAA. And here comes Johnny Football, full head of steam, shoulder lowered, charging towards an already much assaulted, aging and crumbling dam.
And what should be a dislocated shoulder becomes instead an earth-shaking moment as, with the power of ESPN and the rest of the college football media behind him, young Johnny hits the dam with all the force of a Ram Pick Up.

So as the torrents rage from behind the dam, we pause on our long journey down the road towards equality to take a long look in the mirror. Is this about making things right with college athletes or making things right with ourselves? We know full well college athletics are dirty and there’s obviously little the NCAA can do about it. This means, in order for us to keep cheering our favorite teams on in good conscience, we’re suddenly fine with athletes being paid.

When everything’s “over the table” we somehow feel as if we still hold some control over the six headed monster we refuse to believe busted its chains and left the reservation a long time ago. Putting everything “over the table” supposedly eliminates “friends of the program “and those greedy ambulance chasers lurking in the shadows. It levels the playing field and makes the SEC an actual entity of the NCAA instead of Minor League Football.

Putting everything “over the table” makes college athletics the Frankenstein to our Gene Wilder. And we stand alongside beaming with pride at how we’ve tamed this gruesome beast using a crude brain transplant machine, a hunchbacked assistant and a fortuitous bolt of lightning. The audience claps and cheers with happy amazement until the stage lights begin exploding and Dr. Frank-un-schteen loses complete control of his great experiment.

As with most things in the real world there are no simple answers. Simple answers exist only on The Brady Bunch or in Third Grade. The NCAA will react in the way we’ve become so accustomed to seeing the NCAA react as the problem continues to grow uglier and faster than a malignant tumor. One thing’s for sure, we don’t have to worry about Washington mucking this deal up anytime soon. It appears they’re far too busy tossing the old political football around out on the Mall to worry about little Johnny Football.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Andrew Luck: This is Your Life

First appeared on August 30th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Dear Annoying Person whose life is so important you don’t have time to push your shopping cart to the corral and choose instead to abandon it in the empty parking spot one good stiff breeze away from my previously unscratched door, you annoy me. You remain the only effective argument for tougher gun laws and something tells me if your life was really so important that you couldn’t spare thirty seconds to push your cart an extra twenty feet, you probably wouldn’t have been in the Kroger parking lot to begin with.

If I had to guess, the brain trust at ESPN is comprised of highly decorated scholars in well pressed suits who can quote to the line the current value of their stock options. Men who rake in obscene amounts of money and wear crooked smirks that squeal “We control half the media world”. Still as polished and accomplished as these men are, at the end of the day, they remain the same ones who leave their cart unattended next to your car in the Kroger parking lot.

ESPN thinks if they beat you over the head with something long enough (A ROD, Brett Favre, Johnny Football) you will eventually come around to caring about it. They cater to the sensationalized and stories relevant to major television markets. For years the Colts dominated the NFL regular season and yet were rarely the lead story on SportsCenter.

Peyton Manning shredded defenses and shattered records as the little franchise that could went on to win double figure games in 12 out of 14 years. Meanwhile the talking heads in Bristol yawned. Manning tosses nine touchdowns (including one to himself) in a 35 point come from behind win and SportsCenter grants it token coverage before inundating us with updates about Tom Brady’s hangnail or the bad plate of sushi he had in New York.

I suppose this milk has long since spoiled and the proper thing to do is tell Andrew Luck that no matter what he does, as long as Robert Griffin the III is upright and able to strap a helmet on, the backseat is a place young Andrew should learn his way around.
Welcome to your life Andrew Luck. You take a 2 win team to the playoffs, throw for more touchdowns and a thousand more yards than the NFL Rookie of the Year and ESPN responds by spending millions on the production of “RG3: The Will to Win” and promotes it relentlessly. It didn’t matter the Colts won more games despite a strength of schedule that ranked them ten places higher than Washington last year, ESPN’s response is to say the Colts are overrated and will take a major step backward this season.

Don’t let ESPN’s fear of covering Midwestern teams scare you young Andrew, there are plenty of hayseeds left out here in the sticks willing to climb down off our horses long enough to pat you on the back and tell you what a great job you’re doing. Take your big city money and go buy yourself a nice log cabin near Lucas Oil Stadium (I’ve got a cousin willing to clear the land if you need it).

The first lesson of playing professional sports in the Midwest is understanding the spotlight of the big media will only reach you when every team east of the Appalachians has closed its doors or global warming has become a reality and flooded the eastern seaboard. Meanwhile get to know the people who leave their carts unattended for one day they shall inherit the Earth from the ESPN brass.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams