Author Archives: rustindodd

Living for Labor Day

The movie lineup always seemed to be the same. The couch was always my homebase — a comfortable headquarters in which to waste the day. And the tennis was always the sideshow, a constant soundtrack of grunts and popping racquets.

This was how you spent Labor Day. This was how I spent Labor Day. It could have been 1995 or 1996 or 1997. The year was inconsequential to the real story: a young kid having a day off school to relax and think about the upcoming events of the fall. High school football. Tailgates. Book reports. And so on.

I thought about Labor Day on Monday — what it used to mean, what it means today, how the old routine, movies on basic cable channels, tennis on a blurry 24-inch standard definition television, doesn’t exist today … and, well, couldn’t exist today.

On Monday, I watched 20-year-old Caroline Wozniacki outhustle Maria Sharapova to a straight-sets victory on the blue courts at Flushing Meadows.

It didn’t really feel like Labor Day. I still had to work. The memories of school are fading further and further into the past. And I rarely watch basic cable.

*Who needs movies on basic cable when you have Netflix?

But for a moment — with Wozniacki winning, and with the afternoon off, and with some average comedy on some average cable channel — I was transported back to 1996.

I remember one Labor Day in particular. And I can’t remember if it was TNT or TBS or USA — but I know the movie marathon was promoted as the Labor Day Leisure Day Special. And I remember, as a 10- or 11-year-old kid, there was nothing better.

It was wall-to-wall movies — most with Steve Martin or Chevy Chase. And there were commercials for television shows I never watched — like “Highlander” and “Silk Stalkings” — and there was Pete Sampras exchanging groundstrokes with some old nemesis … Petr Korda? Goran Ivanisevic? Patrick Rafter?

And maybe the movies are only memorable only to me.

But there was Steve Martin and Rick Moranis saving a Little League field in “My Blue Heaven.” And there was “Problem Child 2” … and the subsequent question of our time: why was this movie ever made?

There was “Fletch” and “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” — and if we were lucky, “Three Amigos.”

And there was nothing better. This was a time when it was still considered socially acceptable to record television movies on VHS Tapes. This was a time when, if you weren’t one of the lucky ones with HBO, and my family surely wasn’t, you still had to go to the video store to find movies without commercials.

And so, as I watched Wozniacki, a 20-year-old former prodigy, a player a full four years younger than me, I wondered where all the time had.

And then… another Labor Day was left in the distance.

Happy MGMT Day… sort of

“This is our decision, to live fast and die young.
We’ve got the vision, now let’s have some fun.
Yeah, it’s overwhelming, but what else can we do.
Get jobs in offices, and wake up for the morning commute,”

— from “Time to Pretend” by MGMT

And so the cycle continues…

The other week I was giving one of my friends a ride in Lawrence, Kan. We we’re going to the gym to play basketball — but that’s not really tangential at all to the point of this story. Of course, if you want to draw some kind of obscure meaning or motif from the game of basketball. Go ahead.

So my friend slides into the car, and the first thing he sees is a stack of old, beat-up CD’s. Most of them were burned years ago, but they’ve gone back into rotation in my Ford Taurus because I don’t have an iPod adapter.

His words come quickly.

“Oh, wow, CD’s?”
“Yea,” I say, “Pretty wild, huh?

Moments later, I pop a CD into the car’s CD player and start driving. And then the thought comes.

Wait, it’s wild to still have CD’s in your car? Really? What year is it?

There’s a reason I bring this story up. Today (Tuesday, April 13, 2010) is MGMT Day.

Today, MGMT’s second studio album, Congratulations, is released to the general public.

If people still bought CD’s, thousands of college-aged kids would be trekking to Best Buy or Target or — gasp — Sam Goody to purchase the album.

But, of course, people don’t buy CDs anymore, so I’m not really sure of the significance of the “album release date”.

I suppose the album also becomes available on iTunes today, so perhaps a large number of technologically-challenged kids will fire up their laptops and throw down $12.99 (or whatever arbitrary cost an album on iTunes goes for these days).

But for me — and I’d like to hope that I’m not alone — all this day means is that the commercial album is now in the public domain. And that fact should make it relatively easy to download the album for free on the latest trendy downloading apparatus*.

*And yes, I know that any “true” techie could have located a pirated copy of the album on the interwebs weeks ago.

So, yes, in one sense, this story is about the demise of the album format. About how the digitization of music has created a disincentive for bands to spend time crafting brilliant studio albums. And about how “themed” rock albums — and album with eloquence and coherence and a collective narrative — are dying.

But that’s only a part of the story.

It’s also about how those same forces — the internet, digitization, and the proliferation of social media — have made it impossible for a band to stay relevant and hip for more than, say, 6 or 7 minutes. More on this shortly.

Yes. Today is MGMT Day.

And MGMT is perhaps the biggest college band in the world right now. Walk down the street in a college town… and you’ll likely hear “Kids” or “Electric Feel” blasting from porch speakers as college kids play some regional drinking game.

So, yes, MGMT passes the college town music corollary.

And the progression usually looks something like this.

The “hippest” and “coolest” music will always start at college radio stations, where hipster DJ’s with picky tastes will weed out the best up-and-coming bands.

Soon, the music moves to the rest of campus, where it gains traction in dorms and greek houses and off-campus shitholes.

And finally, it reaches its tipping point. Some mag like Rolling Stone is praising MGMT, trying to co-opt some of MGMT’s hipness for the magazine’s own brand.

That’s how the cycle works, has for decades.

Of course, the cycle used to be organic. And there was something romantic about it.

But now, because of twitter and facebook and the google machine, the cycle moves with the intense focus of a college kid on adderall.

And that’s where a band like MGMT comes in.

This band has it all. Seriously. If somebody were to create a band to go viral on college campuses, you’d piece together MGMT.

First off, nobody would even believe that those names could be real?

Ben Goldwasser and Andrew VanWyngarden?

VanWyngarden?

They play music that’s just poppy enough to attract a mass audience. And it’s just synthy and experimental enough to sound better with the addition of drugs. … Did I mention they’re based in Brooklyn.

But here’s the thing:

Today is MGMT Day. Thousands of college kids will find some way to listen to their new album. And thousands more will listen to it at parties. And soon, some commercial radio stations will throw MGMT into rotation.

And the progression will continue. And for some reason, this will make MGMT progressively less hip.

And all those kids who made Goldwasser and VanWyngarden will slowly move away and latch on to the next “it” band. All those kids who found comfort in discovering MGMT — the band that was their own little secret, the band that wrote beautiful pop songs, the band that sounded smart and raw and genuine all at the same time… well, those kids will slowly move away.

It was bound to happen sooner or later. This is the way the cycle works. And it’s worked like this for years and years and years.

It’s just too bad it happens so quickly these days.

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Gaetti Project: Deconstructing Damon

Editor’s Note: This is Part 2 of The Gary Gaetti Project, a nine-part series to ring in the beginning of the Royals’ 2010 baseball season. Why Gaetti? Well, let’s just say that anytime we can honor a guy that was nicknamed The Rat, wore a mullet… AND went to Northwest Missouri State, you gotta do it. Adding to the legend, Gaetti hit 35 homers for The Kansas City Royals in 1995… at age 36. And miraculously, he did it all while wearing a batting helmet with no ear flaps. Yep, we could all use a little more Gaetti in our lives.

*****

It’s been nearly 10 years since Johnny Damon wore a Kansas City Royals uniform.

10 years.

Damon played his last game for the Royals on Oct. 1, 2000.

In case you’re curious, he went one for four with a walk in a 6-2 victory against the Chicago White Sox.

So, yes, it’s been nearly a decade. Almost 10 years since Damon was roping doubles down the line and chasing down liners in the gap. It’s been more than 3,000 days since Damon was teamed with Carlos Beltran and Jermaine Dye – one of the most talented young outfields in baseball history.

10 years.

Do you know what can happen in 10 years?

John F. Kennedy once told the nation that we would reach the moon in 10 years – and it happened. A young man named Barack Obama went from a second-term state senator in Illinois to the leader of the free world. The Beatles went from unknown lads to bigger than Jesus… to broken up.

So, of course, a lot can happen in 10 years.

And for Johnny Damon, a lot did happen.

The kid who was tabbed to be the savior of the Royals – the next George Brett – has lived a lifetime in the last 10 years.

He’s played on four teams, won two World Series, and had 11 different haircuts.

He dethroned the mighty Yankees with a back-breaking grand slam in Game Seven of the 2004 ALCS.

And he saved the mighty Yankees with one of the most heads-up baserunning plays in history during the 2009 World Series.

Yes, Johnny Damon has lived it all.

But let’s start at the beginning. Before Boston. Before New York. Before he was a Caveman. Before “What would Johnny Damon do?” Before The Idiots. Before he broke the curse of the Bambino. Before he helped end the curse of A-Rod.

Stay with us. We’re moving fast. And we’re ending up in flyover country. In a land where people grill out in the backyard on sunny days. In a land of minimal traffic and sleepy suburbs – and horrific baseball.

Kansas City. The town in which Johnny Damon became a star.

*****

Ok. We have to start with the commercial. It was only 30 seconds long. But they still talk about it here.

The premise was simple. Damon was the Royals’ young hope, a speedy outfielder drafted in the first round in 1992, the best prospect in a Royals organization that was undergoing its first true youth movement in more than a generation.

George Brett was the face of the franchise, the symbol of the Royals’ glory years, a sure-fire Hall of Famer who had hung up his cleats just a few years earlier.

So, yes, the narrative was too easy to spot. And, of course, the Royals’ marketing people saw it as well.

The Royals’ marketing department did what any franchise would do.

They used images from the Royals’ glorious past to sell the hope of the future.

If it happened once, why couldn’t it happen again?

The commercial was simple*.

Damon and Brett sit next to each other and watch television.

*Jeff Pearlman of Sports Illustrated once wrote a nice piece on the Royals’ young outfield of Damon, Carlos Beltran and Jermaine Dye, and there’s a complete retelling of the Damon and Brett commercial in the story…

First, the television shows highlights from the Royals’ playoff conquest of the late 1970s and early 1980s.

Then, Damon snags the remote and flips the channel to highlights of the modern-day Royals — with Damon leading the way.

Of course, you know what happens next. Brett takes control of the remote and changes the channel back to the glory days. Then Damon flips it back. And so on.

Finally, Brett grabs the remote, flashes his World Series ring, and says something like, “Wait ‘til you have one these, kid.”

*****

So, where do we begin?

The commercial is prescient for a number of reasons. First, the last line is a little ironic because, obviously, Damon now has two World Series titles.

But there’s more than that.

Because really, this commercial has come to symbolize so much more in Kansas City.

In the mid-1990s, Damon was the face of Royals Youth Movement No. 1.

More than a decade later, the Royals are somewhere between Youth Movement No. 3 and No. 4, depending on your perspective.

Damon would never win more than 77 games in a Royals uniform. And his stay in Kansas City would more or less be considered a disappointment.

Need proof? Last week, Damon returned to Kansas City on opening day as a member of the Detroit Tigers. He was booed every time he went to the plate.

So, yes, Damon did not save the franchise. He would not become George Brett. He would not lead the Royals back to the playoffs.

But perhaps this isn’t really Damon’s fault. Maybe — just maybe — we can blame it on the economics of baseball.

The Royals, of course, traded Damon to the Oakland A’s after the 2000 season. They had no choice. Damon was not going to sign in Kansas City*.

*Unfortunately, the Royals weren’t able to grab much in return. The haul for Damon? A young shortstop named Angel Berroa, an aging closer named Roberto Hernandez, and a throw-in catcher named A.J. Hinch.

And if you need more proof of the greatness of Billy Beane, check this out. In the Damon trade, which also included Tampa Bay, the A’s acquired Damon, second baseman Mark Ellis and pitcher Cory Lidle.

So, yes, the Royals should have capitalized on their asset (Damon).

But there was not much hope in signing that asset. At the time, it just wasn’t economically feasible.

And this is where the story of Damon and the commercial and Kansas City gets interesting.

In the past 10 years, Damon has quietly pieced together a stunningly good career.

How stunning? Well, Damon has a shot — and some might conclude that he has a good shot — at ending up in Cooperstown.

Yep. The Hall of Fame.

The numbers are complete and shocking and beautiful all at the same time.

At age 36, Damon’s career numbers look like this:

BA: .288
OBP: .355
OPS: .793
OPS+ : 105
207 homers
452 doubles (84th all-time)
95 triples
2,428 hits (108th all-time)
1,485 runs (71st all-time)
998 RBIs
374 stolen bases (86th all-time)

And now, there’s an outside chance that Damon’s infamous commercial with George Brett may become more prophetic than anyone could have ever imagined.

Johnny David Damon might just become the second Hall of Famer to ever come out of the Royals’ system.

Sports Illustrated’s Joe Posnanski has bandied about this statistic more than once, but I still thought I’d share it.

Damon has a realistic shot to reach 3,000 hits, 500 doubles, 100 triples, 250 homers and 400 stolen bases.

How many players in baseball history have done that? Zero.

Of course, just because Damon could do it doesn’t mean he will.

And 3,000 hits may be tough. He needs rap out about 150 hits for the next four seasons to reach the big 3K.

But he might.

And if he does, here’s the question:

What baseball hat would be on his Hall-of-Fame plaque?

Before you instinctively say “Red Sox”, consider the following.

Here Damon’s career statistics with each of the first four* teams he’s played with:

*We’re not counting the Tigers for obvious reasons.

****

With the Royals:
Five full seasons

Homers: 65
RBI: 329
Stolen Bases: 149
BA: .291
OBP: .350
OPS: .783
OPS-plus: 99

Best season: In 2000, Damon .327 with a .382 OBP. He finished with a career-high 214 hits, and added 42 doubles, a league-best 46 stolen bases and a league-best 136 runs.

With the Red Sox
Four full seasons (2002-2005)

Homers: 56
RBI: 299
Stolen Bases: 98
BA: .294
OBP: .361
OPS: .803
OPS-plus: 107

Best season: In 2004, Damon hit .304 with a .380 OBP. He finished with 20 homers, 35 doubles and 123 runs.

With the Yankees:
Four full seasons (2006-2009)

Homers: 77
RBI: 296
Stolen Bases: 93
BA: .285
OBP: .362
OPS: .819
OPS-plus: 114

Best season: In 2009, Damon hit .282 with a .365 OBP. He tied a career high with 24 homers, and finished with 36 doubles and a 107 runs.

With the A’s:
One full season (2001)

Homers: 9
RBI: 49
Stolen Bases: 27
BA: .256
OBP: .324
OPS: .687
OPS-plus: 82

*****

Damon doesn’t have much reason to pick the Royals. After all, he won his titles in Boston and New York. But it also might be a difficult choice for him to choose between the Sox and Yanks.

At one time, Damon was Boston. He was the face of the Idiots. But then he left for New York, cut his hair, and became a company man. Of course, the Yanks discarded him last offseason — and most people don’t exactly picture Damon as a true Yankee.

But even if Damon snubs the Royals, even if he picks Boston or New York, even if he doesn’t mention a single member of the Royals organization in his Hall-of-Fame speech, the people of Kansas City could still claim another minor victory.

They could tell their grandkids that they saw Johnny Damon, “Hall-of-Famer Johnny Damon”, play baseball at Kauffman Stadium.

They could say that they saw him slap four doubles in a game and make running catches at the warning track… and they could say they saw the commercial that started it all.

Yes. They could say they saw Johnny Damon become a star.

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A List Mania unlike any other

So here we go, the sun is out, the golf ball starts flying at Augusta on Thursday, the baseball season has started, and another addition of List Mania is upon us.

For those not in the know, List Mania is an ode to former Kansas City Star and current Sports Illustrated columnist Joe Posnanski, who famously wrote lists until one day, many years ago, he wrote a column saying he would never list again…

So here goes…

Three sports upsets that I wish would have happened

1. Tom Watson at the 2009 British Open
2. Butler over Duke in the 2010 NCAA title game
3. U.S. soccer team over Germany in the quarterfinals of the 2002 World Cup

White players who’ve won MOP of the Final Four since 1977

1. Christian Laettner, Duke, 1991
2. Bobby Hurley, Duke, 1992
3. Jeff Sheppard, Kentucky, 1998
4. Kyle Singler, Duke, 2010

Top five pitchers in baseball

1. Zack Greinke, Kansas City Royals
2. Tim Lincecum, San Francisco Giants
3. Felix Hernandez, Seattle Mariners
4. Roy Halladay, Philadelphia Phillies
5. Johan Santana, New York Mets

The five most underrated players in baseball

1. Ben Zobrist, utility player, Tampa Bay Rays

The Rays’ best-kept secret started 81 games at second base and 44 games in the outfield (also chipped in six games at short and two at first base), but his bat is what really makes him special. He had a .405 on-base percentage and an OPS-plus of 146. That’s what happens when you hit 27 homers and 28 doubles*. To put this in perspective. No Royal has had an OPS-plus of more than 146 since Mike Sweeney posted a 148 in 2002. Did we mention Zobrist will make $438,100** this season?

*Zobrist also seems to have good speed. At least, a high-ranking official in the Royals’ organization once praised Yuniesky Betancourt’s arm because he threw out Zobrist on a slow roller. So I’m guessing the official thinks Zobrist can fly.

**Numbers obtained from of the website, Cot’s Baseball Contracts

2. Shin-Soo Choo, right fielder, Cleveland Indians

Choo, who turns 28 in July, had a .394 on-base percentage with 20 homers and 38 doubles in 2009. Pretty good for a guy who made $420,300. … And I don’t want to sound like a scout here, but the guy really does look impressive in person.

3. Chone Figgins, second baseman, Seattle Mariners

You may ask how Figgins can still be underrated. After all, the Mariners signed him to a four-year, $36 million deal in the offseason. Still, I’m not sure people understand how valuable Figgins is. Last season, according to FanGraphs.com, Figgins’ WAR (a metric that utilizes offense, defense and baserunning to measure total value) was 6.1, the 11th highest in baseball.*

*Who was ranked ahead of Figgins? How about this list?

1. Ben Zobrist, 8.6
2. Albert Pujols, 8.5
3. Joe Mauer, 8.1
4. Chase Utley, 7.6
5. Derek Jeter, 7.4
6. Evan Longoria, 7.2
7. Hanley Ramirez, 7.2
8. Ryan Zimmerman, 7.2
9. Prince Fielder, 6.8
10. Adrian Gonzalez, 6.8

4. Franklin Gutierrez, center fielder, Seattle Mariners

By nearly any defensive metric, Gutierrez is the best outfielder in baseball – and by some, he is the best defensive player in all of baseball. Gold Gloves be damned.

5. Erick Aybar, shortstop, LA Angels

Similar to Figgins, Aybar may be even more valuable than some people realize. He’ll make just a shade over $2 million this season. A pretty solid investment for a 26 year old who hit .312 last season with an on-base percentage of .353. Watch him play in person, and you’ll also realize that the kid can flat out fly.

Five players selected after the Royals picked Luke Hochevar No. 1 in the 2006 MLB draft

1. Evan Longoria, picked third by Tampa Bay
2. Clayton Kershaw, picked seventh by the LA Dodgers
3. Tim Lincecum, picked 10th by San Francisco
4. Joba Chamberlain, picked 41 by the New York Yankees
5. Brett Anderson, picked 55th by Arizona (traded to Oakland)

Five players selected after the Royals picked Alex Gordon No. 2 in the 2005 MLB draft

1. Ryan Zimmerman, picked fourth by Washington
2. Ryan Braun, picked fifth by Milwaukee
3. Troy Tulowitzki, picked seventh by Colorado
4. Andrew McCutcheon, picked 11th by Pittsburgh
5. Jacoby Ellsbury, picked 28th by Boston

Five things that may only interest me

1. So they have Cheeseburger-flavored Doritos now. Really, cheeseburger. Of course, I had to try them. The review? Well, they really do taste like cheeseburger. You get the cheesy taste of regular Doritos, a hint of ketchup – and the smoky flavor of the burger patty. Of course, I’m not so sure this is all a good thing. I’m not so sure I need my cheeseburgers in chip form.

2. President Obama is not allowed to throw out any more first pitches. The poor guy has tried twice, and both times he has come out looking only slightly better than this guy…

Hey, I appreciate that Obama can hoop a little bit. That’s impressive. But is it too much to ask that our commander-in-chiefs have the ability to shoot a basketball AND throw a baseball? Dubya could fill up the strike zone – but he also once did this…

3. The strangest thing about the Masters? How can the most beautiful golf course in the world be in the one of the most plain towns in America?

Five song lyrics for the spring

1. “But times change, sailors these days, when I’m in port I get what I need. Not just Havanas or bananas or daiquiris, but that American creation on which I feed.”

2. “Twelve hours out of Mackinaw City, stopped in a bar to have a brew. Met a girl and we had a few drinks, and I told her what I’d decided to do.”

3. “And its funny how it`s the little things in life that mean the most, not where you live, what you drive or the price tag on your clothes.”

3. “The water is warm, but it’s sending me shivers. A baby is born, crying out for attention. Memories fade, like looking through a fogged mirror… Decisions to decisions are made and not bought, but I thought, this wouldn’t hurt a lot, I guess not.”

4. “You can’t start a fire, you can’t start a fire without a spark.”

Five questions to ponder

1. Will Kevin Durant win more NBA titles than LeBron James?

2. Will MGMT’s latest album, Congratulations, released this Tuesday, be the best album of the year?

3. Is Barcelona’s Lionel Messi the most dominant athlete in the world?

4. Whose idea was it to put an “S” in the word “lisp”?

5. Hey is that the truth or are you talking trash? Is your game M.V.P. like Steve Nash?

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Gaetti Project: Yuni at The Bat

Editor’s Note: This is Part 1 of The Gary Gaetti Project, a nine-part series to ring in the beginning of the Royals’ 2010 baseball season. Why Gaetti? Well, let’s just that anytime we can honor a guy that was nicknamed The Rat, wore a mullet… AND went to Northwest Missouri State, you gotta do it. Adding to the legend, Gaetti hit 35 homers for The Kansas City Royals in 1995… at age 36. And miraculously, he did it all while wearing a batting helmet with no ear flaps. Yep, we could all use a little more Gaetti in our lives.

Some people call Yuniesky Betancourt the worst every-day player in baseball.

You probably know that his WAR (Wins above replacement player) in 2009 was a historically awful -2.2, the worst in all of baseball.

You probably know what that number means. Just in case you don’t, WAR adds together the total contribution (offense, defense, baserunning, pitching) of each Major League player. A player with a WAR of 0 or 1 is easily replaceable. If your WAR is negative (like good ‘ol Yuni’s) you should be replaced.

So, yes, some people call Yuni Betancourt the worst every-day player in baseball.

I call him an inspiration…

*****

Yuni at the Bat

The Outlook wasn’t brilliant for the KC nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Bloomy died at first, and Kendall did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the partiers at The K.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
clung to that hope which springs from a Stroud’s chicken breast;
They thought, if only Yuni could get but a whack at that –
We’d put up even money, now, with Yuni at the bat.

But Getz preceded Casey, as did also Rick Ankiel,
And the former had no slug and the latter was no Emil;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Yuni’s getting to the bat.

But Getz let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Ank, the old southpaw, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Ankiel safe at second and Getz a-hugging third.

Then from 20,000 throats and more there rose a lusty cry;
It rumbled through Westport, it rattled the plaza-wide;
It knocked upon Okie Joes and recoiled over Gates,
For Yuni, mighty Yuni, was advancing to the plate.

There was ease in Yuni’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was WAR in Yuni’s bearing and VORP on Yuni’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Yuni at the bat.

40,000 eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
20,000 tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Yuni’s eye, a sneer curled Yuni’s lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Yuni stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman, the ball unheeded sped-
“That is my style,” said Yuni. “But ya wiffed,” the umpire said.

With a smile of Christian charity great Yuni’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But this time, Yuni ignored it, and the umpire said, “Strike two.”

“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Yuni and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Yuni wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Yuni’s lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Yuni’s blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in KC – mighty Yuni has struck out.

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Believe in Butler

The Butler will do it. Yes, I said. It. Tonight, the Butler will do it. The Bulldogs have to do it, right? That’s how this story is supposed to end, right? This is why we love college basketball. Heck, this is why we watch sports. Right? Right!?

Tonight, the Butler Bulldog will play the Duke Blue Devils.

I’ve heard a lot of things about the Butler Bulldogs. I’ve heard that they are the ultimate Cinderella. I’ve heard that they are NOT a Cinderella. I’ve heard that their story is better than Cinderella’s… better than a miracle… better than any story ever… (OK. That was this blog).

But here’s the thing about Butler.

This team is not a Cinderella. This team doesn’t need miracles to win. This team is, well, good. This team may even be great. They’ve won 25 in a row.

They have Gordon Hayward, who could be a first-round pick in this year’s NBA Draft. They have Shelvin Mack, a sophomore who will play for money at some point in his career. And they have Matt Howard, a junior who was the Horizon League player of the year last season, before Hayward took over.

Veteran scribe Joe Posnanski made a similar point yesterday, but he went further. He wrote:

“…This is not really some crazy Hoosiers-type saga, you know, with Gene Hackman teaching kids how to dribble around chairs and Jimmy Chitwood joining the team to save the coach’s job and Ollie making underhand free throws to win a game at the end…”

Of course, if you’re going to make the argument that Butler is not some Hoosiers-type, Cinderella tale, I think you also have to argue that Jimmy Chitwood’s Hickory Huskers weren’t even Cinderellas.

OK, it was a miracle that Hickory High, with 75 boys in the whole school, and a tragic figure at head coach, and a drunk as an assistant coach, did beat the big boys and win the Indiana state championship.

But it wasn’t necessarily a miracle that that team beat everybody. I mean, did you see that team? They could freaking stroke it. And Jimmy Chitwood must’ve been the best player in the state of Indiana. Yes, they didn’t have much height, but they could pass and cut and play defense — and again… they could fill it up from the outside.

This Butler team kind of feels the same way.

Sure, some people probably feel like they’re slighting them by calling them a Cinderella. After all, we’ve seen over and over that this Butler team is one of the best in the country.

But that’s not the miraculous part. The miraculous part is that Butler, a school of 4,200 students, a team that plays in the Horizon League, is even here in the first place.

The miracle is that ex-coaches Barry Collier and Thad Matta built the program into a viable mid-major… and that Todd Lickliter kept on bringing in talented players before bolting for Iowa … and that Brad Stevens, a 30-something with no head coaching experience, took over and molded this talented roster into one of the best teams in the country.

Yes, it is a miracle that Butler is here. And it would be a miracle if they win a national championship.

But for this team, the miracle part is over. They can beat Duke. Yes, they can. And what a story it would be if they did.

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Finally Four…

So here it is, Saturday night of the Final Four. Four teams. Two games. Two spots in the national title game on Monday night.

There are those who love the Super Bowl. There are those who worship Sunday at the Masters. There are those who would pick the Kentucky Derby or the World Series or the NBA Finals.

But for me, this is the best sports day of the year.

What other day gives you TWO games in the same venue. Four legions of fans, all in the same building. Close to five hours of college basketball at the highest level.

I love everything about the Final Four. I love the storylines and the cheesy music and Jim Nantz on the microphone.

And I love all the stories that come out of the ultimate hoops festival.

Love the fact that you might step into an elevator with David Robinson. Love the fact that you might see legendary Boston Globe columnist Bob Ryan strolling around a hotel lobby at 8:30 in the morning, looking like an old man trying to get an early start on his day of sightseeing.

Love the fact that you might randomly walk past a restaurant patio as former UCLA star Ed O’Bannon takes his seat (and a group of UCLA fans begins an impromptu chant of “EDDIE-O, EDDIE-O, EDDIE-O”).

Love the fact that you might randomly see former Wisconsin center Brian Butch walking down the street by himself and think — hey, it’s Brian Butch.

Love the college three-point and dunk contests that take place during Final Four weekend.*

*The following exchange took place during the college dunk contest at this year’s Final Four in Indianapolis.

Chris Roberts, who was a senior at Bradley this past season, had just thrown down a sick dunk and ESPN reporter Holly Rowe was waiting on the sidelines to interview him.

Rowe: So, Chris, what do you have to do to win this thing?
Roberts: Just go out, and keep making dunks

Well, sure… makes sense.

And lastly, I love the fact that you might accidentally pick a fight with a player from one of the Final Four teams just hours before the games begin.*

*All these things happened to me while I was at the 2008 Final Four in San Antonio, but the last one was the best. I was walking around the Riverwalk with Mark Dent and Daily Kansan photographer Jon Goering, and we stopped outside in a small patio area.

Of course, the talk turned to KU’s game against North Carolina, which would take place later on that night. We were half-heartedly breaking down North Carolina’s team, and Mark and I came to the consensus that the Tar Heels’ Danny Green was ridiculously overrated.

Then, as Mark blurted aloud that he thought Green more or less sucked, we turned around and saw Green standing just 10 feet away from us with a kid who looked like his younger brother.

Two things crossed my mind:

1. I really hope Danny Green didn’t hear us.
2. What the hell is Green doing here? KU plays North Carolina in like five hours.

But there’s still one thing that gives the Final Four its soul. And it’s the players.

You probably know that Kansas’ Cole Aldrich is leaving school early to enter the NBA Draft.

He announced his decision earlier this week at a press conference in Lawrence.

Aldrich had a pretty remarkable career at Kansas. He had a triple-double against Dayton in the 2009 NCAA Tournament. He never lost a game at Allen Fieldhouse. And he was a third-team All-American as a junior.

Still, as Aldrich reflected on three years at Kansas during his “I’m going to the NBA” press conference, I wonder if he thought about the night he went from little-used freshman to Kansas legend. The night he stepped off the bench and outplayed North Carolina’s national player of the year, Tyler Hansbrough, in front of the entire nation.

I can still remember the look on Aldrich face after Kansas took down Hansbrough and Roy Williams and the rest of the Tar Heels.

…The look on his face as he was asked about ripping a rebound from the clutches of Hansbrough.

It was a mix of pride and satisfaction and joy.

And that’s the Final Four. I can’t wait.

(Editor’s Note – Here is what I wrote about Aldrich on the night oh his coming-out party against North Carolina)

*****

SAN ANTONIO | Once upon a time, Cole Aldrich was an afterthought, the fourth big man off the bench — just another big body at Kansas’ coach Bill Self’s disposal.

On Saturday night against North Carolina, Aldrich etched his name onto the list of greatest relief performances in Kansas basketball history.

Kansas’ freshman center scored eight points and grabbed seven rebounds off the bench in Kansas’ 84-66 victory against North Carolina, including one board which Aldrich snatched from the clutches of North Carolina All-American Tyler Hansbrough.

“I wasn’t gonna let go,” Aldrich said.

Aldrich’s supporting performance may go down in Kansas lore if the Jayhawks follow up their Saturday night victory with a victory and a national title on Monday.

And oddly enough, Self saw it coming.

Earlier this week Self corrected a reporter who had asked how important Darnell Jackson, Sasha Kaun and Darrell Arthur would be in Kansas’ attempt to contain North Carolina forward Tyler Hansbrough. Don’t forget about Cole, Self reminded.

Self’s prophecy came true.

“He may have won the game for us tonight as much as anybody,” Self said.

With seniors Sasha Kaun and Darnell Jackson both committing two early fouls, Bill Self faced a coaching calamity. Send Cole Aldrich, who averaged 8.1 minutes per game during the regular season, on to the floor to guard Hansbrough, the Tar Heels leading scorer and the AP National Player of the Year.

No sweat.

Aldrich responded with 13 first half minutes played, six points during Kansas’ fun-n-gun first half, and one rebound that Aldrich couldn’t help by smile about.

With 10 minutes left in the first half, and Kansas leading 31-10, Aldrich sprung from floor and ripped the ball away from a bewildered Hansbrough.

“Tyler usually outworks someone, but tonight, he got outworked,” Rush said.

Aldrich, along with help from Kaun, Jackson and Arthur held Hansbrough to 17 point and nine rebounds, a shade below his usual averages of 23.7 points and 11.5 rebounds per game.

“I don’t think he was quite used to four guys that can hold their own,” Aldrich said.

The Kansas frontcourt also controlled the glass, shouldering a 42-33 rebound advantage against their frontcourt foes from North Carolina.

“We knew we had to keep them off the glass to win the game,” Aldrich said.

Aldrich’s 6-foot-10 frame stood tall in Kansas’ victorious locker room, searching for words to describe his nation-wide coming-out party.

Aldrich finally settled on calling it,”…a blast.”

Kansas junior Matt Kleinnmann, sitting 35 feet to Aldrich’s left, had his own take on Aldrich’s first Final Four performance.

“He played like a man tonight,” Kleinnmann said.

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YouTube Sesh: Scheyer Edition

Well, it’s time for another YouTube Sesh at the Brewhouse.

If you need a primer on the history of the YouTube Sesh, you can check here…

But here’s the short of it. Sometimes YouTube videos just need to be shared.

But before we get to the goods, we must start with a story about Jon Scheyer.

Scheyer is, of course, a senior guard at Duke. This weekend, he’ll start in the Final Four for the Blue Devils. You probably know a little bit about Scheyer. For instance, you probably know he’s a great shooter. And you might know that he started running the point for the Devils this season — at least, more than he ever had before. And you probably know that he’s been pretty good at playing the role of Duke’s fair-skinned villain.*

*Of course, it does seem like Duke has entire team of fair-skinned villains these days. And it also seems like none of them — not Scheyer, not forward Kyle Singler, not the Plumlees — has been especially good at being hateable (not a word, I know, but still). I suspect that part of that is due to the fact that Duke hasn’t won much the last four or five years, and it can be hard to hate people that lose all the time. Of course, that could all change this weekend.

Anyway, I was thinking about Scheyer this weekend, because I think he kind of represents an interesting case in how the internet has changed the sports world nowadays.

I’ll explain shortly… but first, my Scheyer story.

I can’t remember when I first heard about Scheyer. I believe it was sometime in late 2005, during the middle of the college basketball season. It could have been earlier. I suspect I ran across his name while checking the basketball recruiting scene that year. Scheyer attended Glenbrook North High School in Northbrook, Illinois, a well-to-do suburb located a short drive north of downtown Chicago*.

*So I was just trying to figure out the exact distance from Northbrook to Chicago — and I ended up having a little fun with the google machine.

Anyway, somehow, I ended up checking out Coach Krzyzewski’s wikipedia page. And somehow, I totally forgot that Coach K went to seven Final Fours in nine years. Seven! Wow. Obviously, Michigan State coach Tom Izzo has been getting a lot of love because he has somehow coaxed the Spartans to six Final Fours in the last 12 years. And that’s unbelievable. But seven in nine years?

Coach K went in 1986, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92 and 94. I could be wrong, but given the state of college basketball — one-and-dones, roster turnover, parity, — I don’t think we’ll ever see seven in nine years again. Duke, of course, had the core of Laettner and Hurley for four of those Final Fours — and Grant Hill caught the tail end of that era before leading the Devils to the Final Four again in 1994.

So I heard about this young kid named John Scheyer. He was a scoring machine in the state of Illinois, he’d led Glenbrook North to the state championship as a junior — and he’d committed to Duke.*

*Not to get off topic again. But if you want to pinpoint the day in which Illinois coach Bruce Weber lost his “elite college coach” reputation, look no further than the day that Scheyer committed to Duke. Not only was Scheyer going to high school in the state of Illinois, but his high school coach was Bruce Weber’s brother.

Really. His brother. Not a good sign when you can’t lock up your state best player… who also just happens to play for your brother.

So I knew a little bit about Jon Scheyer. But then, it happened. Scheyer went viral. The funny thing was, at the time, I’m pretty sure people didn’t even refer to anything as going viral — unless you were talking about E. Coli or the mumps or the measles.

This was 2005. The internet was huge, no doubt. But YouTube barely existed. Facebook was just a few years old — and Twitter was just a idea in the mind of some advanced-thinking techie. In short, there just weren’t many channels for something to go viral on.

Still, Scheyer managed the trick. During a high school game at the Proviso West Holiday tournament in December of 2005, Scheyer pulled off one of the most amazing feats in the history of high school basketball. With his future college coach Krzyzewski in the stands, and his team trailing 71-58 with 1:24 left, Scheyer scored 21 points in the final 74 seconds. His team would lose, but Scheyer would finish with 52 points. In the final 1:24, he hit five three-pointers and six free throws. Think about that: 21 points in 75 seconds. That’s one point ever 3.57 seconds.

So, of course, the buzz on Scheyer went national. Everybody wanted to know about this scoring machine from suburban Chicago. It helped that J.J. Redick was finishing up his prolific career at Duke the same season. The comparisons were inevitable. Both shooters, both about 6 foot 4, both, well, fair-skinned. It may have also helped that Coach K was in the stands. After all, Coach K is a Chicago native — though it’s safe to say that the neighborhood Krzyzewski grew up in looked nothing like Northbrook.

Here’s how my Scheyer story ends. I went to Chicago for spring break that year — and I just happened to be in downtown Chicago on a Thursday night. I walked into a random sandwich shop with a friend, and Duke was playing LSU in the Sweet 16. Duke was a one-seed that year. And Redick, along with Gonzaga’s Adam Morrison, were the darlings of college basketball.

You probably know that Duke lost that game. And Redick’s career ended in the Sweet 16. I remember being in the sandwich shop and watching the game on television.

CBS showed a shot of a dejected Redick walking off the court after the game. And in the background, a guy yelled out: “It’s OK, Duke. Y’all be alright. You guys got our Jon Scheyer coming in.”

For some reason, that story stayed with me — at least, enough to be able to remember it four years later.

Anyway. I’ve followed Scheyer’s career for the last four years. And I use the term “follow” loosely. His first two years at Duke weren’t great. He was a little thin — and he didn’t quite have the career that Redick did.

But here’s the larger point about the sports world: There just aren’t any surprises anymore. There aren’t any prodigies that show up out of nowhere. Jon Scheyer, a player who’ll likely play minimally in the NBA — if at all — was on the national radar at age 18.

I understand this isn’t an earth-shattering realization. After all, it is 2010. And we’re inundated with tweets and videos and links all day long. If something crazy happens in the sports world, everybody talks about it for a couple hours, then we move on to the next crazy thing.

I also understand that basketball recruits have been provoking good feelings in college basketball fans for decades. Show me a top college recruit, and I’ll show you a little hope.

Still, it does feel different these days.

In order to find “the next big thing”, we put 16-year-old baseball players on the cover of Sports Illustrated. And we rank the nation’s top 100 high school freshman basketball players. And we hear about a 13-year-old soccer prodigy who turns out to be mediocre.

This isn’t a new phenomenon. But we’ve never seen it on this scale.

If somebody like Scheyer can go viral four years ago — before “going viral” even really existed, imagine the buzz his epic high school performance would stir today.

I’m not sure if that all makes much sense. But whatever.

Still… Scheyer’s performance is still pretty unbelievable. Enjoy.

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The Greatest Basketball Story Ever Told

“And David put his hand into his bag and took from it a stone and slung it, and struck the Philistine on his forehead.”

They say the story is here somewhere.

They say it could be epic, legendary — one of the greatest basketball tales of our lifetime.

Can you see it?

For some, it’s partially hidden, tucked away in a land where high school basketball gyms are more sacred than ancient cathedrals.

But for others — people that love the game and breathe the game and possess it in their veins — the story is everywhere.

These people see the story in the rusty basketball goals that hang from the roof of each garage. They hear it in the bouncing of the ball — the sound of worn leather hitting pavement at 11:15 p.m. on a Tuesday. The noise is a nuisance, a threat to their sleeping patterns. But it’s a necessary nuisance. The neighbor boy is working on his jumpshot — an endeavor that provokes feelings of admiration and respect.

These people know this story. They’ve heard it so many times.

And it always starts with a boy, a ball, and a basketball goal.

Next comes the coach. And he’s always a story unto himself. He shouldn’t be here. But he is, against all odds — and he preaches defense and toughness and teamwork.

Next comes the team — the heart of this story. The team isn’t supposed to be here. Isn’t supposed to win. But here it comes, winning games and changing minds and embodying the spirit of the underdog.

Next comes the miracle. The team from the little school in the little league beats the powerhouse from the big school in the big league.

This is story has it all. There’s the 6-foot-8 basketball prodigy who was raised to believe that this story can happen. There’s the 33-year-old coach who would get carded at any college bar in the nation. And then there’s the team — built and nurtured in the birthplace of the first miracle.

But… there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. This particular story is still being written. The miracle? Well, we’re working on that part.

But here it is…

Butler, a small university with an enrollment of 4,500, is in the Final Four.

Butler, a team from the Horizon League, is two wins from the National Championship.

And this Saturday, the Butler Bulldogs will play in their hometown of Indianapolis in front of upwards of 65,000 fans.

There are millions of people who believe the Bulldogs have no chance.

But here’s this story… and the narrative is so familiar… and the people want to believe again.

*****

OK. We will get to the story.

But first — before the prodigy and the coach and the miracle — we must answer this question.

Why do we love sports? There it is. I’ll just put it out there. It’s a question I think about a lot.

Of course, there are answers. But they always seem incomplete. They can’t explain the passion and emotion and adoration we feel. They just can’t.

Sure, we love sports for the drama and the theater and the unforgiving pressure.

Can this Phil make that 9-foot putt with the Masters on the line? Can Kurt Gibson limp up to home plate and go deep off Dennis Eckersley? Can Mario Chalmers sink that last-second three-pointer and send the NCAA championship game into overtime?

Of course, we love sports because of the unfiltered storylines.

There’s Texas Western’s all-black starting five defeating Kentucky’s all-white squad for the 1966 NCAA basketball title. There’s Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis winning the Super Bowl MVP one year after finding himself immersed in a murder investigation. And there’s Drew Brees leading the Saints to an upset win in the Super Bowl four years after New Orleans was decimated by a hurricane.

And, of course, we love sports because of the spectacle.

We take joy in tailgating with 50,000 other fans in frigid temperatures at 8 a.m. on a Sunday. And we’re awed that more than 1 billion people will watch the World Cup final this summer in South Africa.

But for me, the answer always comes down to this. We love sports for the moment.

The moment is when the theater and the drama and spectacle come together, when we’re transported to another place, when we experience a state of euphoria that only be explained by the people that witness it.

The moment is Michael Phelps beating Milorad Cavic to the wall by a fingernail in a Beijing swimming pool. The moment is a 21-year-old Tiger Woods burying his face into his dad’s shoulder on the 18th hole at Augusta. The moment is Michael Jordan moving to his right, then crossing back to his left, leaving a helpless Bryon Russell in his wake, and burying a game-winner against the Utah Jazz in the NBA Finals.

These moments last just seconds, but they never truly end. They stay in the back of our consciousness, triggered into a memory when the time is right.

Of course, the NCAA Tournament is a breeding ground for moments. MJ against Georgetown. Keith Smart against Syracuse. Laettner against Kentucky. There are so many moments in March.

And on Friday, we had another moment.

*****

There’s an old cliché in sports. You’ve probably heard it. Something unbelievable will happen, and an announcer will inevitably say something like, “You know what, this story is so incredible, a Hollywood screenwriter wouldn’t even write this, because he wouldn’t believe it could actually happen.”

Maybe that’s why this story is a little different.

This basketball story has already been a movie. And that movie was, of course, based on a real story.

First, we must start with a history lesson. And our lesson begins with the legendary Bobby Plump.

In Indiana, the story of Plump is passed down from generation to generation, like an epic basketball poem.

In 1954, Plump led tiny Milan High, a school with an enrollment of 161, to the all-class Indiana state high school championship. The Milan High Indians beat perennial power Muncie Central in the state championship.

The story of Milan High would become legend. And it would be co-opted into a movie 32 years later. The movie would be titled, “Hoosiers” — and would star Gene Hackman as coach Norman Dale.

The character of Plump would morph into Jimmy Chitwood, a sweet-shooting guard with some off-the-court issues.

And Milan High would become the Hickory High Huskers.

But you have to remember. This is the greatest basketball story ever told. So the story couldn’t end with Chitwood and Dale and the Huskers.

The Milan High Indians would win the state championship at Hinkle Fieldhouse — the homecourt of the Butler Bulldogs.

And Plump, our protagonist, would go on to play college basketball at a little school in Indianapolis — you might have heard of it — named Butler.

*****

So by now, you probably know the framework of the Butler story.

The Bulldogs beat No. 1 seed Syracuse on Wednesday in Salt Lake City, and then followed that up with a 63-56 victory over No. 2 seed Kansas State in the West Regional final.

And you probably know the numbers: They Bulldogs are 30-4. They won 24 games in a row. They’ve beat Xavier and Ohio State and Siena. They’re 7-3 against NCAA Tournament teams.

But you probably don’t know these numbers. According to basketball statistician, Ken Pomeroy, the Bulldogs are sixth in the country in adjusted defensive efficiency.* And if you think the Bulldogs are relatively untested — given their membership in the Horizon League — consider this fact:

Butler played the second-toughest non-conference schedule in the nation. And they are 11-4 against teams in the top 100 of Pomeroy’s computer rankings.

*I admit, I’m not exactly sure what that means.

More than anything, Butler is the perfect team to embody this NCAA Tournament. Because when you strip away the artificial sponsors and the inane NCAA and the colossal stadiums, you are left with the game.

And to find the soul of the game, you have to peal away the acrobatic dunks and jaw-dropping blocks and blinding athleticism.

Yes, it’s there somewhere. The soul of the game. The essence of ball.

And when you finally do it, when you strip away everything, it comes down to this:

The game is really about passing and cutting and shooting.

Which team can pass? Which team can move without the ball? Which team can knock down shots?

Of course, these things should seem obvious. And yet, they are why basketball is the greatest game the world has ever seen. And why the NCAA Tournament is the greatest sporting event in the world.

Listen to Kansas coach Bill Self, and he’ll tell you the same thing. In March, it really comes down to this: Which team makes shots?

So, yes, you can strip it all away, and it really comes down to the romantic notion of basketball.

The kid. The ball. And the basket.

So let’s start there. The kid.

*****

Gordon Hayward knows this story.

He’s seen it before. He’s felt it before. And he’s lived it before.

Some say that the state of Indiana has a way of producing basketball heroes.

Larry Bird came from French Lick, and he was once the protagonist in this play. Oscar Robertson grew up in a housing project outside Indianapolis and led Crispus Attucks High to the Indiana state title in 1955. Decades before that, a young man by the name of John Wooden led Martinsville to the state championship in 1927.

And by a little twist of fate, Hayward has already been the hero once.

On a calm Indiana night in 2008, Hayward led Brownsburg High to the 4A Indiana state title. If the story ended there, well, it would be still be amazing.

But, no, the story does not end there. Because on that calm Indiana night, the Brownsburg Bulldogs trailed Marion 39-38 with 2.1 seconds left.

Brownsburg’s in-bounds passer would heave the ball 70 feet down the court. The ball would be tipped… and a mad scramble would ensue.

And somehow, the ball ended up in the hands of Hayward…

Moments later, the Brownsburg players were dancing on the court at Conseco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis.

Hayward’s short jumper had dropped through the net, and the Bulldogs were state champions.
*****

There’s an old cliché about Indiana high school basketball.

They say Indiana produces shooters. And, yes, Hayward can shoot.

But he can do more. At 6-9, Hayward can pass and rebound and create off the dribble.

He can hit step-back three-pointers and bang with the most physical of bigs.

And on Friday, with a little help from CBS’ Gus Johnson, he also gave us a moment.

The moment came in Butler’s game against K-State — and I can only assume this story will be told for decades in Indiana.

Johnson, of course, was broadcasting the game. And late in the second half, with Butler holding onto a small lead, Hayward skied for an offensive rebound, yanked the ball down, rose for the put-back and drew a foul.

In an instant, Johnson shouted these words:

“DON’T LET THE SMOOTH TASTE FOOL YA.*”

*If you didn’t know, “Don’t let the smooth taste fool ya” is an old marketing slogan for King Cobra malt liquor.

In retrospect, the moment was just as much Johnson’s as it was Hayward’s.

And, yet, in this moment, something else happened. Butler had already defeated No. 1 seed Syracuse. And here they were, hanging with K-State, who at the time, seemed to be destiny’s team.

But here was Butler. And for the first time, the ultimate basketball miracle seemed to be possible.

*****

Every one of these basketball miracle stories has to have a coach. That much is obvious.

But Butler coach Brad Stevens is no Norman Dale, the redemptive figure in “Hoosiers”.

But in some ways, Stevens’ story is more unlikely.

He graduated from DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana in 1999 after a four-year playing career. And he temporarily took a marketing job in Indianapolis while working as a voluntary high school coach.

Shortly after, he would take a gamble and dive headfirst into the coaching business. He joined the Butler staff under then-coach Thad Matta in before the 2000-01 season.

After one season, Matta would leave Butler for Xavier, assistant Todd Lickliter would take over, and Stevens would become a full-time assistant coach.

Nine years later, the 33-year-old Stevens has the Bulldogs in the Final Four in his third season at Butler. He’s 88-14 in three seasons — the most wins by any coach in his first three seasons.

And yet, Stevens’ trademark doesn’t seem to be his sterling record or his remarkable rise.

No, instead, Stevens is perhaps more famous for his boyish looks. It’s almost as if Ferris Bueller stumbled into Hinkle Fieldhouse and became one of the top young coaches in the country. He’s calm and he recruits and he is a wizard of mental preparation… now all he has to do is get up on a parade float and sing “Twist and Shout”.

*****

Lastly, there is the team.

There’s sophomore Shelvin Mack, a lead guard from Lexington, Kent., who was passed over by the hometown Wildcats. There’s sophomore Ronald Nored, a deep-thinking defensive specialist who devours books with messages of inspiration. There’s Matt Howard, a crafty, 6-foot-8 forward who was the player of the year in the Horizon League last season.

And there’s eight more players from Indiana — eight more players who know this story.

*****

Yes. The people want to believe again. In their dreams they can see Plump leading Milan High to the state title.

They remember Larry Bird rising from the poor streets of French Lick. And they remember one of their own, Oscar Robertson, slowly becoming the best basketball player in the world.

And when the close their eyes, they can hear it, the voice of Gene Hackman, bringing his team together before the state championship game in Hoosiers, moments before the dramatic denouement.

They can hear Hackman’s question: “Does anybody have anything else to say?”

And the answer is always this: “Let’s win it for all the small schools that never got a chance to get here.”

The can visualize the final scene: Jimmy Chitwood looking into his coach’s eyes and telling him calmly… “I’ll make it.”

They can remember it all. Because in Indiana, basketball miracle stories aren’t just possible — they also define the state’s heritage.

And so, on Saturday, thousands and thousands of Indianans will make the pilgrimage to Lucas Oil Stadium in downtown Indianapolis.

And Butler, a school of 4,500 from the Horizon League, will take on Michigan State, a school that has played in six of the last 12 Final Fours.

The story, of course, is still being written.

But here’s this story… and the narrative is so familiar… and the people want to believe again.

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Guy Fieri vs. Adam Richman

This is the story of two men.

The first guy travels the country. He unearths culinary treasures, shedding light on overlooked food joints in the nooks and crannies of America. He spouts off quirky and energetic instant-reviews. And as you might expect, he’s slightly overweight.

The second guy… well, he also travels the country. He also unearths culinary treasures, shedding light on overlooked food joints in the nooks and crannies of America. He also spouts off quirky and energetic instant-reviews. And yep, he’s a little chubby.

As you probably guessed. The first guy is Guy Fieri from “Diners, Drive-ins and Dives” on the Food Network.

And the second is, of course, Adam Richman from “Man vs. Food” on the Travel Channel.

So yes, this is the story of two men.

But really, this is journey to the heart of this question:

Why is it so enjoyable to watch too hefty dudes grub extremely unhealthy (and greasy) comfort food?

Yes. You probably know the premise of each show. “Diners, Drive-ins and Dives” (which premiered in 2007) features stars Fieri in a one-man roadtrip to find America’s best (well) diners, drive-ins and dives.

He “traverses” the country in a Chevy Camaro convertible, searching for places that serve American classics (hamburgers, hot dogs, fried food, etc.) He finds places with unbelievable dishes and menus, a hole-in-the-wall place that combined Chinese and Mexican food comes to mind. He finds regional specialties and eclectic restauranteurs and, somehow, we get a little slice of Americana along the way.

But there’s a method to his quest. The food must be gourmet… and from scratch.

And that’s where the show finds its voice.

Fieri will watch the chefs, cooks and restaurant proprietors prepare their best dishes. He will watch them throw flour and salt and garlic powder into the pot. He will watch them fry hot dogs. He will watch them craft together the best chili recipe a person could imagine.

This is the part of the show that sucks you in*. And this is where we will begin to answer the question. I first saw Triple D (its nickname) when I was a senior in college. I would sit on the couch, mesmerized by the combinations, my mouth watering at the high-definition images of fatty goodness. Why is this show so entertaining? My roommates would wonder the same thing. Perhaps the answer is simple. At least, it could be. Because if you’ve ever watched the show, you know what I’m talking about. There’s really only one reaction you can have, and it’s usually some derivative of this:

“Dude, that’s looks SO GOOD…”

Of course, Fieri will sample the food, and throw in some (presumably) canned review.*

*He generally goes with these old staples. If somebody is cooking something on in a boiling pot, every ingredient is getting “tossed into the pool. If the dish is getting a little spicy, you’ll hear, “Oh, brother, we’re going to flavor town.” And otherwise, most dishes are considered “money.” 

Some other classic Guy quotes: 1. “Holy Moly, Stromboli.”  2. “This is bananas, and bananas is good.”

So yes, perhaps this subject is not worthy of such nuanced thinking. Food is good. Deece restaurant food is ever better. People love food. Thus, people love watching the food being made.

But this is the part where we get to the story of the second guy.

I can remember when I saw the first commercial promo for “Man vs. Food”. The premise was simple. Adam Richman* travels the country, seeking out the country’s toughest eating challenges.

*So just who is Adam Richman? Well, if you listen to the show’s opening you know this:

“He’s no competive eater. Just a regular guy with a serious appetite.”

Turns out Richman is really an actor who has appeared in such shows as “Guiding Light” and “Joan of Arcadia”. He actually graduated from Yale’s drama school – so there’s that. 

Right now, as I’m writing this, Richman is eating a 190-pound cheeseburger. Yea. 190 pounds! Yea. Not sure what the point is. But they also added 10 pounds of cheese. Four pounds of  bacon. Three heads of lettuce. About 25 tomatoes. And about 100 pickle slices. He’s not eating it by himself, of course. There’s a group of like 40 people — including members of the band KISS, a group of high school football players and a bunch of construction workers — and even they couldn’t take it down. You know the first thought that popped into my head? America.

So yes, I always associated “Man vs. Food” with “Triple D”.  And I’ve always associated Guy with Adam.

There are differences, of course. I could be wrong, but it did seem like the first few episodes of “Man vs. Food” were centered around the Eating Challenges. They paid little attention to how the food was prepared. The show still had great ratings.

But it seemed to lack the voice that carried “Diners, Drive-ins and Dives”. Of course, it is interesting to watch Richman attempt to eat truckloads of food. But it’s safe to say that the novelty could wear off fast.

Thus, Richman began to mimic Fieri, and the show basically became a copy of Triple D — with a food challenge at the end.

And yet, it works… and it’s still entertaining.

So here’s the question again. Why do we love Richman? Why do we feel the need to watch Fieri do the same thing every week? Does it say something about America’s relationship with food? Does it provide a subtext into the discussion of Obesity? Am I just filibustering by throwing out unanswerable questions because I have no answers?

Perhaps.

But you know what? The food looks SO GOOD.

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