Category: OLD SPORT SHORTS (Page 45 of 68)

An old guy’s perspective on all sports

Old Sport Shorts: Glory of Old I.U. #868

March 7, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I know I’ve written a lot of discouraging words about the Indiana basketball program this year. I’m admittedly so spoiled after years of success, and can never remember a year like this one. Just two weeks ago, I had taken to poetry in an attempt to defuse my emotions. (See Post #848). Tonight I’m eating crow after three consecutive victories. I even called them, “the worst shooting team in recent memory.” After all, they had just lost to both Purdue and Iowa once again and stood a pathetic 4-12 in the BIG Conference. I was frustrated, disappointed and embarrassed, having cursed Romeo Langford and Juwan Morgan for rushing off to the NBA without preforming up to their potential this last year of wearing the Cream & Crimson stripes.

I have to admit that I was mildly hopeful that they would finally rebound against Michigan State and Wisconsin, two schools that had historically proven to be our greatest nemesis. When all was said and done, not only did we beat the Badgers in double overtime, but we also doubled-up on the Spartans. Honestly, the first time we beat “Sparty” in East Lansing, I thought we had turned the corner on a sad season, but instead we fell flat on our faces at home against Iowa. Then it only got worse in blowout losses to Ohio State and Minnesota. At least, when the Boilers and Hawkeyes finally came to town, these were winnable games that turned into really bitter fourth and fifth consecutive defeats. Even though we then suddenly showed signs of greatness and beat two top-ranked teams, I was never confident that I.U. could pull-off a third straight victory at Illinois.

Now, all I want to do is sing the fight song after watching the “daily double.” The I.U. women’s team and Ali Patberg looked stellar in a tourney victory over Minnesota this afternoon. Tonight, the win over Illinois was the men’s team most convincing all-around effort this season. Shooting was a consistent 60% throughout the game! Rob Phinisee showed flashes of Isiah Thomas, while Langford, Morgan, Green and Davis made me proud. Our overall record is now finally over .500 including 7 BIG Ten victories, and remarkably with one more win against Rutgers the Hoosiers might be looking at an NCAA bid. They still have a chance to finish 8th in the conference that was sadly my pessimistic prediction going into the year. The “Glory of Old I.U.” has been temporarily restored.

Indiana, Our Indiana

Indiana’s most recognized fight song, “Indiana, Our Indiana,” was first performed by the IU Band in November, 1912 at a football game against Northwestern. The song has since been played at every Indiana football and basketball game.

Indiana, Our Indiana
Indiana, we’re all for you
We will fight for
the Cream & Crimson,
For the glory of Old IU
Never daunted, we cannot falter
In the battle, we’re tried and true
Indiana, Our Indiana
Indiana, we’re all for you!

Words by Russell P. Harker, Melody taken from “The Viking March”, by Karl L. King

Go Hoosiers!

Retirement is not without Hassles: Bucket Battle #867

March 7, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

When you have a bucket list, you also need a bucket of money to go with it. To get to the places you want to go it takes both time and money. Retirement guarantees that you have a lot of time on your hands, but that bucket of money often develops leaks. On the other hand, your bucket list tends to grow as you begin to explore new places, so you might need a bigger bucket to hold your dreams. Life in its simplest form is nothing more than a “Bucket Battle.”

Those of us from Indiana know the true significance of “The Bucket.” More specifically, the Old Oaken Bucket. It’s the prize the winning team receives when Indiana University and Purdue University play football every fall. The coveted traveling trophy was first awarded in 1925. The actual bucket was found on the Bruner family farm between Kent and Hanover in southern Indiana. An “I” or “P” is attached to its chain each year in honor of the victor. However, the inaugural battle ended in a tie, so an “I-P” link was added. My mom had a miniature replica of this trophy that she passed along to me.

The Old Oaken Bucket
By: Samuel Woodworth (1784–1842)

HOW dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew;
The wide-spreading pond and the mill which stood by it,
The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e’en the rude bucket which hung in the well,—
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.

That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure;
For often, at noon, when returned from the field,
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,
The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing!
And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell;
Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,
And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well;—
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well.

How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it,
As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!
Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it,
Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips.
And now, far removed from the loved situation,
The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
As fancy reverts to my father’s plantation,
And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well;
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hangs in the well.

As the poem describes, the bucket was how we once retrieved life-giving fresh water, as opposed to just turning on the tap. The “green mossy” references do not exactly sound appetizing. It was also made into a song that only Hoosiers like myself would recognize. The poem was written 8 years before the Old Oaken Bucket became a football trophy and long before making a “bucket list” was considered to be a positive exercise.

“Kicking the bucket” was once a common phrase in reference to death. The “bucket list” therefore originally meant a list of things to do before dying. There was a popular 2007 movie starring Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson called “The Bucket List” that perhaps inspired each of us to make one. However, to fulfill your list, you need to be constantly filling a real bucket with cash in the form of an IRA. The real life “battle,” as opposed to just a game, is how many buckets do you need to fill before you retire, and how do you keep them from leaking?

Old Sport Shorts: Double Spartan Burger with Extra Cheese #859

March 2, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I had a cheeseburger to celebrate the I.U. basketball victory over BIG conference the rival Wisconsin “Cheeseheads.” This was after quality wins over Marquette, Louisville, and Michigan State, despite a bizarre season of repeated disappointment. How can they only win games against some of the best teams in the country and somehow not show up for the spoils? I threatened to order a “Double Spartan Burger with Extra Cheese” if they could pull-off a second upset against the Spartans – this time at home in Bloomington. So, where can I get a “Spartan Burger?”

Come to find out there is a Spartans Burger franchise in Huntington Park, California, plus a Spartan Drive-In located in Stanwood, Washington. Coincidentally, there is also The Spartan – Burger and Souvlaki Bar in Phuket, Thailand, our destination three weeks from now. Hopefully, the sweet taste of victory will not be replaced with the bitterness of defeat in the meantime. This Hoosier victory over Michigan State is an important stepping-stone to the NCAA Tournament that just a week ago was an impossibility. All they have to do is now beat two of the worst teams in the BIG conference and win their first game in the BIG Ten tournament. Mission Impossible is now more than just a dream.

This year’s I.U. team is one of the worst shooting teams in memory. Fortunately, my memory isn’t very good. To support my lack of confidence is the fact that today they were a miserable 37.7% from the field, 37.5% from three-point range, and a pathetic 61.5% from the free throw line, yet still managed to defend the Spartans from scoring the winning bucket. By comparison, M.S.U. percentages were a far superior 54.2, 40, and 80 respectively. A month ago in East Lansing, the victorious Hoosiers were a comparable 38.9% from the floor and only slightly better from the charity stripe and behind the arc. In the meantime, they then managed to also beat ranked Wisconsin but couldn’t outscore Iowa (twice), Ohio State, Minnesota, or Purdue (twice). My Cream & Crimson have barely beaten Northwestern, Penn State, and Illinois, each poised dangerously to finish last in the pack, to account for their only other conference victories and an unacceptable 6-12 record.

In-state rival Purdue now sits on top of the BIG conference at an impressive 15-3 to make matters even worse. Indiana has to beat Illinois (6-11) for the second time and then even their record against Rutgers (7-11) to regain any committee respect. This year’s BIG Tournament is contested in Chicago, and they’ll have one more chance to beat a bottom division team before perhaps facing Purdue (a much desired opportunity) or revenge-minded foes Wisconsin and Michigan State. It’s been a tough season and it certainly doesn’t get any easier. March Madness has finally begun after months of angry disappointment, offset by only two “Cheeseburger” treats.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Wedding Plans #858

March 2, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

It’s my wife’s weekend but just another day of retirement for me. We’ll start out her Saturday with the dogs and exercise with them on our “Schnauzerthon.” Tinker, our oldest schnauzer, just turned 15 and is limping badly. Her 105-year old little legs deserve a carriage ride. This is why we bought the Air Buggy that we push her in while sister Tally scampers ahead. The “Schnauzerthon” combines my morning run with a long walk for my wife. We take turns pushing the stroller and trying to contain Tally on her leash. It takes about an hour and is part of my working wife’s weekend routine. There are Marathons and Triathlons, but every great endurance athlete should try a “Schnauzerthon.”

My wife is taking her oldest daughter shopping later this afternoon for a wedding dress. She and I are also going to a birthday party luncheon for a 70-year old friend – at least he won’t be keeping us up late. Both of these life events were once hard to imagine – 70 year old friends and married children. We must be growing old. I’m only a little over my two years from my 70th “blowout.” Weddings are about as positive as it gets any more, since at this age it’s mostly funerals.

The birthday event today was at McMenamin’s Edgefield, a venue that we had always wanted to check out. It’s the historic site of a former “Poor Farm,” as well as a vineyard, golf course, spa, and popular summer concert hot spot. I read a custom poem as part of the traditional “old man” birthday roast that highlighted the drawn-out ceremonies. It made fun of the proper pronunciation of the birthday boy’s name – silent “k” and “i before e.” As a fellow Cubs fan, I buy some of my baseball cards from him, so it’s not been a long-standing relationship. I got a few scattered laughs for my efforts:

KNEIS not Niece

Seventy-year old friends,
Are rare for me.
I like to hang around
With younger folks, see?

Parties are for kids,
Not those turning gray.
But now that I’m here.
Happy Birthday anyway.

Turn up your hearing aids,
And lean on your canes.
Enjoy some cake
Forget about your pains.

You went over the hill,
Twenty years ago.
Social Security is now,
Your main source of dough

This makes you desperate,
To sell us KNEIS cards.
To protect our life savings,
Needing more than shin-guards.

Ernie couldn’t make it,
Or any top draft picks.
Sherm would be here,
But he died at fifty-six.

Bryzzo was busy,
Joe Maddux sends regrets.
Wrigley Field Management,
Warns of optimistic bets.

Nice-ler or Niece-ler?
It’s pronounced how?
As long as you’re buying,
Either version you’ll allow.

This has been an issue,
All of your KNEIS life.
Then you shared this problem,
With your daughters and wife.

For the “Mr. Cub” title,
You’re next in line.
They’ll win it again,
In year 2109.

Crib to Classroom,
Office to Booth.
Your career has focused,
On educating our youth.

You’re a kid again,
Every baseball season.
Being close to the game,
Gives all if us “reason.”

Buying and selling,
Making a trade.
Just like in teaching,
Comes down to a grade.

You get us together,
To share what we love.
We bring our leather wallet,
Instead of a glove.

Thanks for the invite,
And not keeping us up late.
Now take out your dentures,
And Step up to your Plate.

His last name is memorable because it is pronounced the same as one of my college fraternity brothers, who eventually stole and married my girl friend. He probably did both her and me a favor, so I held only a short grudge. It was great to get out of the house on a beautiful, sunny afternoon and see some of the Portland area peaks that have been recently hidden by rain clouds. From a couple wearing bath robes to those holding golf clubs, we got the full perspective of the property. My wife will spend the rest of the day with her daughter talking wedding plans. I’m glad they’re getting together because it keeps me from going to a local production of the musical Jesus Christ Superstar. I’m free to join a friend for fried chicken and beer tonight. Cheers to both the bride and my birthday buddy!

Old Sport Shorts: Double Cheese Please #855

February 28, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

It’s been a tough decade for Indiana University basketball. Spoiled fans like me aren’t easy to please. Teams like Michigan State and Wisconsin have dominated on the Big Ten courts, especially in games against my team. This season has been particularly difficult, but oddly not because of these traditional nemeses. The Hoosiers are 2-0 against the Spartans and Badgers, with at least one last battle yet to come.

I’ve already written about how difficult it’s been to win in East Lansing, dating back to the construction of seemly impenetrable Breslin Center. (See Post #829). The victory over “Sparty” this year was monumental and appeared as if it might be the beginning of salvation for the struggling Hoosier team. It was if a huge weight had been lifted off our shoulders, as this group of young men had been able to somehow accomplish what even the great ones couldn’t – a win at Breslin. It was indeed a proud day.

Unfortunately, the sweet smell of success soon turned sour again with five more consecutive losses, and Wisconsin viciously knocking at our Assembly Hall door. Just for the record, before tip-off, Indiana did lead the all-time series against the Badger Cheese Heads 95-74, while Wisconsin held just a 28-53 record when playing in Bloomington. However, the Cheddar’s had also won five straight against the Cream and Crimson since late January 2016 and 19 of the past 21 meetings dating back to Jan. 31, 2008. Even cheeseburgers have not tasted good for I.U. fans in some time!

Michigan State, on the other hand, simply hit a rough spot on the schedule, registering all three of their total BIG losses in a short 9-day span to Purdue, Indiana, and Illinois respectively. Lowly I.U. has remarkably recorded the only home court loss for the Spartans this year. Michigan State then easily rebounded with 5 straight victories, including wins at Wisconsin and Michigan. They can extract some revenge on the unpredictable Hoosiers this week by returning the home-court disfavor.

After briefly bathing in the limelight of this “Top Ten” road victory over Michigan State, the sole positive in a 13-game Hoosier slide, it would be unbelievable for I.U. to double-up on the Spartans this year! As a reminder, “Sparty” did lose to Louisville earlier this year, another of Indiana’s surprising non-conference victories over a ranked team. Add Marquette and now Wisconsin to the mix and this gives the bottom-dwelling conference Hoosiers four tourney-quality wins against ranked opponents. Would a double Spartan victory ultimately turn some more heads of the NCAA selection committee?

I.U. lost heart-breakers to Iowa in overtime, and to Purdue on a last-second tip. This has been the norm as to how the ball has bounced for the Hoosiers this year. It was long-overdue good fortune that led them to the double-overtime Wisconsin win. The Cheeseheads apparently caught the same shooting disorder that has plagued I.U. all year. Granted, that’s a mere 3 victories in the last 22, but saying to my restaurant server, regarding the next hamburger order, “double cheese please” will sure feel good. Oh, and by the way, a “Double Spartan Burger with cheese” just might be served this weekend.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Living In The Past #851

February 24, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

“Living in the Past” is (or should I say was) a 1969 song by Jethro Tull. I was in my final year of high school, 50 years ago. Although they were a British group, their lyrics perhaps reflect the war in Vietnam?

Happy and I’m smiling
Walk a mile to drink your water
You know I’d love to love you
And above you there’s no other

We’ll go walking out
While others shout of war’s disaster
Oh, we won’t give in
Let’s go living in the past

Once I used to join in
Every boy and girl was my friend
Now there’s revolution, but they don’t know
What they’re fighting

Let us close our eyes
Outside their lives go on much faster
Oh, we won’t give in
We’ll keep living in the past

Oh, we won’t give in
Let’s go living in the past

Oh no, no we won’t give in
Let’s go living in the past

With all the recent genealogy work I’ve been doing, I feel like I’m “living in the past,” trying to piece together the story of my adoption. There are all these strangers, mostly dead now, that shaped my life, and I seem consumed in finding out more about them. As a result, I spend a lot of time reading obituaries and consulting Find-A-Grave. It feels a bit morbid to live in this ancestral world.

My other pastime is collecting sports memorabilia, that on the surface seems more uplifting. However, yesterday I realized that there are many similarities. In sorting out the authenticity of certain items and determining their value, I found myself once again utilizing the same resources of obituaries and graveyard data. It’s another odd way that I “live in the past.”

It must have all started in Game 4 of the 1959 World Series when #10 John Sherman Lollar came to bat for the Chicago White Sox. I had just turned 8 years old and honestly remember watching the game at home on our black and white television, maybe one of the first baseball games I ever saw. An unbelievable crowd of 92,650 sat in the stands. The game was held in the expansive Los Angeles Coliseum with a make-shift home run wall. The Dodgers, who had moved the year before from Brooklyn, were leading the series two games to one and had a four run lead in the seventh inning.

Wow! Sherm Lollar hit a three-run blast to tie the game, and in the process won my heart forever. The White Sox went on to lose the series, but Sherm’s #10 became my lucky number. His game-worn 1955 jersey is part of my collection and I installed a mirror so you can see the #10 on the back. I also wore #10 throughout my little league and softball years, but probably never did it justice.

For his defensive efforts alone as a catcher Sherman Lollar should be in the Hall of Fame. I’ve written several letters on his behalf and contacted his son, Kevin, about a potential campaign. I continue to write about his remarkable career on this blog (See Post #5). You can imagine my surprise when I was contacted the other day by a gentleman who had some of his memorabilia for sale. Personally, I was thrilled that he had come across my name associated with this childhood hero and actually read some of my articles in this blog. He immediately struck an ego chord – the first step to making a big sale.

His list of Sherm-related items included:

White Sox hat with “10” written on the underside brim
20 baseball cards, none of which are signed
Post card from Sherm Lollar’s Lanes (his retirement project)
1968 Oakland A’s official scorecard from the Yankees game signed by Sherm Lollar and Joe Keough
Oakland A’s, Tim Mcauliffe brand lime green hat,
Very early (1940’s) Baltimore Orioles jacket
Two ticket stubs from the May 8, 1968 Oakland A’s game where Catfish Hunter threw his perfect game. One of the stubs is signed “Jim Hunter”
Oakland – Alameda County Coliseum parking concessionaire stub

After yesterday’s follow-up conversation, it was revealed that he was not necessarily a baseball fan, but had purchased a storage locker full of items from Jerry Bo Lollar, Sherm’s nephew. He turns out to be the son of Sherm’s brother, Major Jerry Lollar, who was the stand-in recipient for his 1973 induction into the Chicago White Sox Hall of Fame. Included was a newspaper article and photos related to this honor. Sherm died in 1977 at age 53.

This is where yesterday’s step back into the past started. I was curious about this relationship, especially since these items should have probably been kept in the family. It’s where genealogy and baseball card collecting crossed paths, as I Googled obituaries, checked Facebook pages, and checked into graveyard data. Obviously, the seller had done the same thing, carefully researching his options on profiting from these items.

I’m not a collector willing to spend big bucks on mementos from the past. It’s why I focus on Sherm Lollar rather than Mickey Mantle and other Hall of Fame members that command big investments. I did, however, feel strongly that these items had a great story and should probably be kept together, so I made an affordable-for-me offer. Similarly, the A’s and Oriole’s stuff was not important to me, but were part of Sherm Lollar’s history as a coach. By the way, prior to this step, I did consult with about a dozen of my close collector friends to determine value. They may not have known what they were talking about?

These collectors all felt that the Orioles jacket had the most value, followed by the signed ticket stub. Like me, they reasoned that the Sherm association would not generate much auction interest. It seemed more likely to all of us that the jacket was probably from 1964-67 rather than the early 40’s. There was no manufacturer’s tag or means of identifying it as belonging to Sherm, other than it was in his nephew’s storage facility. None of us caught the “gold mine” the ticket stub might be.

The seller sent me an e-mail last night that nearly knocked me off my chair. I was at a fundraiser with my wife. There have been two previous purchases of similar “Perfect Game” ticket stubs. One sold for $4500 and the other for $1000. Neither was signed like the one currently in his possession. Unlike the others, there is a hole punch that might discourage some buyers. I was embarrassed at what I offered him, thinking that he probably was now leery of my honesty and that I might have been trying to take advantage of him. All of my friends are absolutely amazed at the price this might command, once he spends the money necessary to validate it’s authenticity. However, he might also find that it’s a fake. I can’t imagine that Jerry Bo Lollar went to that kind of trouble, although “Catfish” autographs typically include his nickname. This one just says, “Jim Hunter.”

Sherm Lollar was Jim Catfish Hunter’s pitching coach and undoubtedly advised him on strategy for that “Perfect Performance.” There are only 21 in modern era baseball history starting with Cy Young. I happen to have a ball in my collection signed by Mark Buehrle of the White Sox from his 2009 gem. It’s interesting that the great Ted Williams claimed that the White Sox would never have made it to that 1959 World Series of my childhood without Sherm Lollar, who was known to be an outstanding “diamond general” behind the plate. He guided that pitching staff to the lowest ERA in the majors. He also caught a no-hitter for Bob Keegan and a complete game for Bob Feller. If there was a hit, he had a cannon for an arm.

I’m excited for the seller of this storage locker bonanza. He makes a living as a “picker,” and perhaps has found a diamond in the rough. My friends all thought that I hit the mother lode as a Sherm Lollar fan when I got that initial phone call and photos regarding this find. I feel like I’m part of it, even if everything ends up out of my price range. It was fun to share this story with my collector friends because we’re all treasure hunters in some sense. I may never find a “pot of gold” like my new “picker pen pal,” but I did learn a few more things about Sherm Lollar and his family. It’s another great story that proves that one man’s (nephew’s) junk can be another man’s treasure.

Old Sport Shorts: Mr. Clutch #850

February 23, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Top draft choices need to be clutch – “Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?” Mr. Basketball, Mr. BIG Ten Freshman of the Year? Mr. NBA Top Ten projected draft choice, but still no signs of Mr. Clutch during his first and only season of I.U. Basketball. For example, last night against Iowa he missed the potential game winner and failed to score in overtime. He did score 14 points but made his final shot with 10:27 left in regulation. That’s no points in over 15 minutes with only an assist, turnover, and two fouls to show for his efforts. We were looking for a savior, but gotten a bit of a dud.

Langford’s play was about the same in the loss against Purdue earlier this week. Despite being the leading I.U. scorer with 14, he missed a key free throw with 23 seconds left that allowed Matt Haarms from Purdue to win the game with a lucky tip-in. He did make both free throws with 2:32 remaining to make up for two turnovers and a foul, plus another one-and-one with 13:36 on the clock. No other shots that he launched fell in the second half. His final bucket of the game came with 21 seconds left in the first half, and 9 of his 14 total points came from the free throw line. Sadly, the only one he missed was in the clutch. He seems to disappear at the end of the game. Are NBA scouts paying attention?

Romeo had ten points against Minnesota, but did not score in the last four minutes of the game or in the first 13:34 of the 2nd half. To make matters worse, he didn’t score in the last 9:25 of the first half, despite 10 points overall in this miserable rout. Should I go on? He did hit a three with 19 seconds left in the first Iowa match-up but then missed one, although it would have made no difference in the loss. Overall, he had 22 points, and 15 were during the second half, but we once again fell short. The big win was at Michigan State, where he once again led the Hoosiers. He did, however, miss the game winner, managed only a three in overtime, and was not a factor in the last 3:13 of the game. I.U. somehow managed to win as De’Ron Davis did the clutch work. Our hobbling Hoosiers were coming off a loss to Rutgers, where we allowed them 22 straight points. Langford did hit a three to keep us in the game with a minute left after only a couple of free throws in the last 6 minutes. He once again led Indiana with 20 points, despite not scoring in the last 11:56. He also didn’t score in the first half against Michigan – another bad loss – or in the first four minutes, his only basket in the entire first half.

These are some of nightmares that led me to write my recent poem. (See Post #848), as Indiana basketball continues to struggle with leadership. 12 losses in the last 13 Big Ten games have taken us out of any post season consideration, and have resulted in a losing record. Coach Archie Miller is feeling the heat, fans like me are angry, but Romeo Langford will soon be a millionaire in the NBA. He won’t have to worry about getting injured in the NCAA Tournament like Zion Williamson, and he’ll leave me with a sour taste in my mouth for I.U. basketball recruiting. Is there a Mr. Clutch out there that can help us restore “The glory of old I.U.?”

Old Sport Shorts: Basketball Nightmare #848

February 21, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I was raised a Hoosier basketball fan and had little choice in the matter. Both of my parents went to I.U., met there and got married. While they were in school, I.U. won their first National Championship. The year I was born they won it again, so it was all I.U. merchandise for Christmas. There are many photos of my in I.U. gear at an early age. I tried to break the family mold by going to Albion College, but soon transferred to Bloomington and the main Indiana University campus.

I eat, sleep, and drink I.U. basketball. It can make or ruin any day. I’ve watched them in person win two National Championships and lose in one Final Four. I followed them on TV for another National Championship banner and just when I thought they were invincible in the final game I found out they weren’t. Through the years, I’ve invested a lot of my time and sweat equity into the program. I’ve also sat in the stands twice in Maui to watch them play, so I can say I’ve stalked them to the corners of the earth.

The last 20 years have been tough. The teams have been hard to watch and success has waned. Coaches have come and gone in conjunction with embarrassment, cruelty, and cheating. I often have to leave the room if they are playing on TV, although a simple victory still lifts my spirits. Unfortunately, there have been too many losses.

There was a surge of hope with Coach Archie Miller and the recruitment of Indiana Mr. Basketball Romeo Langford. Everything looked promising on paper, but in reality the team chemistry is as bad as I’ve ever seen. They simply can’t shoot and scoring output in the 40’s have been norm of late. They somehow beat Michigan State in East Lansing (See Post #829) to end a losing skid, but then quickly started another one. Poor fundamentals and inexcusably inaccurate free-throw shooting have added to their consistent inability to hit big shots in the BIG Conference. The were blown out by in-state rival Purdue in West Lafayette, but had a chance to beat them in Bloomington. Predictably, they missed the last shot. To curb my growing frustrations, I wrote this “humorous” poem, rather than scream.

Nightmare On Hoosier Street

It’s a basketball nightmare,
We can’t hit a shot.
Not a single player,
Can find their sweet spot.

It looks so easy,
When other teams play.
But we can’t seem to click,
On any given day.

We miss underneath,
And can’t hit a three.
We don’t make a bucket,
Even if it’s “Free.”

There’s a lid on our rim,
And a hole in my heart.
For a win at the buzzer,
Bring back Keith Smart.

Do the players need glasses?
Or more practice time?
To lose at I.U.’s,
An unforgivable crime.

When you wear the stripes,
Of Crimson and Cream.
March Madness,
Should be more than a dream.

You’ve played all your life,
Hours in the gym.
It’s the same old ten feet,
From the floor to the rim.

Please wake me up,
Tell me it’s not real.
To play for the Hoosiers,
Should be a big deal.

My wife tries to tell me,
It’s only a game.
But when you can’t score,
It’s more than a shame.

Where’s the fundamentals?
Hold on to the ball.
Why don’t our attempts,
Ever seem to fall?

It’s not a peach basket,
But nothing goes through.
Percentages show,
We’re long overdue.

It’s called a net,
And not in a knot.
It makes a “swoosh,”
When you hit the shot.

Instead it’s a “clang,”
Or an “Air Ball.”
That just shouldn’t happen,
At Assembly Hall.

It can’t be the coach,
When you’re 00h for ten.
Then somehow you manage,
To miss once again.

I try to wake up,
But my team is cursed.
To make it even worse,
Purdue is tied for first.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Dogg #838

February 11, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

If a couple of bad I.U. basketball losses this week aren’t enough to lower my spirits then certainly reading the first draft of my latest Last Will will! I’m in the final stages of updating this document, along with healthcare directives. It’s contents are certainly in that same life or death category as I.U. basketball. At least, unlike most college basketball enthusiasts, I’m not waiting for that first National Championship. Been there…done that.

With my wife out of town on business, the dogs and I watched the Grammy Awards last night. It looks like the “Snowmageddon” that they were predicting for our area has instead turned to rain. There should be few problems in getting to the airport tomorrow morning for an early flight. Our pet sitter will be here to take over my responsibilities, as I’ve updated the specific “Pet Care Instructions.” I’m sure she will give them more attention than I do. Tinker, our eldest schnauzer turns 15 in a few weeks and needs more help than Tally. Tally can never get enough walks, while Tinker can never get enough naps. They were hoping that Snoop Doggy Dogg might finally get a Grammy after 17 nominations. I told them that I thought the 47-year old rapper and actor had given up after a third straight year of no recognition. They particularly liked his second album, Tha Doggfather and assumed it was written about me. (See Post #763). One of my close Portland friends has a brother who’s currently touring with poor, win-deprived, Snopp.

I watched the Ray Romano comedy special on Netflix yesterday. My wife and I both met him at the Final Four in Indianapolis back in March of 1997 just after CBS launched Everybody Loves Raymond. The popular TV show first aired on September 13, 1996, so he was still a virtual unknown celebrity to most of us. My future second wife and I had yet to get together but worked for the same CBS affiliate WISH-TV8. We were the suite hosts at the RCA Dome for him and did the introductions to some of our advertising buyers. Twenty-two years later, the Netflix special reminded me of what a great guy he was to meet, and it still doesn’t look like success has gone to his head. Although it was hilarious, I still somehow managed to fall asleep after getting up a 5 a.m. for an unexpected drive to the airport. After my nap, I watched the last 15 minutes and would recommend it to anyone. Pretty clean, too!

Arizona beat Kentucky that year to win it all. Any Kentucky loss is a big win for me! Indiana last won the National title in 1987, but surprisingly got to the Final Four in 2002 when it was played in Atlanta. I mention this because it was really the last good year of I.U. basketball, now struggling with a 17-year drought. Basketball life has not been good, but I now have the “Will to live,” once these final revisions are made. The pets are mentioned in our “exit plan,” along with the division of our other important assets. Speaking of 17 disappointing years (and 105 dog years), I hope for the dogs sake that Snoop Dogg finally wins a Grammy Award. Which will come first to win the trophy- I.U. or
Calvin Cordozar Broadus, Jr ?

Retirement is not without Hassles: Happy Hunting #836

February 10, 2019 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I put on my chauffeur’s cap this morning, as I awoke from a deep fog. My poor working wife had gotten up at 4 a.m. on a Sunday morning to catch an early flight. I had planned on sleeping in and taking the dogs out in the morning sunlight for a change. It’s been cold here in Portland, with some snow flurries and icy roads. My wife’s boss thought it would be a good idea to arrive early for their budget meetings in Phoenix and get ahead of more anticipated snow. She was probably right in being diligent about their responsibilities. Unfortunately, there were no Uber drivers to take my wife to the airport this morning and I got the nod.

It’s no big deal since I’m retired and therefore do not distinguish Sunday from any other day of the week. They’re all the same in my world. I’ll fly out in to join her in the warmer climate once her meetings have concluded. In the meantime, I’ll save us a few bucks in pet sitting fees and enjoy life as a homebody. I’ve got an I.U. basketball game to watch in a few hours and I hope it doesn’t lead to late morning drinking. It’s been that kind of season, but at least with the West Coast early start, it will be out of the way for the day. I had honestly not planned to leave the house until my flight, but instead I got an early startle, dogs out, airport visit, daily run, and some writing in by 8 a.m. I’ll even have some time to do some “hunting” for Banister relatives on the Ancestry.com site. In all, that’s more than most people do all day…even the U.S. Army,as they like to boast!

I’ll probably need a nap after the game, but basketball adrenaline will boost me until that time comes. It’s been a tough week of bad decisions on my part that have only added to my wife’s work stress. Even an attempt to humor her with a Limoges box and poem went wrong. It was supposed to be a celebration for the 20th anniversary of our first “date,” when we typically observe Valentine’s Day. At least that way I get two chances to make it right, so there’s still time for a make good.

I have several themes that I follow when I gift my wife a Limoges Box. It’s been another of our 20-year traditions and I have bought hundreds for her collection. There are holiday boxes, those that are travel-related, romantic, and whimsical categories that I look for. I typically purchase them on-line from reputable sources since it’s rare to see them in the stores any more. For those of you that are unfamiliar with Limoges, they are French, hand-painted, porcelain boxes that are hinged to sometimes reveal a surprise inside. I put a poem inside each one that I give her and once proposed with a hidden diamond ring. In that particular case, the design included a rabbit with a carrot (or karat). (See Post #146). They also each feature a distinctive clasp as part of the hinged lid. The FOX BOX had a gold HEN where it opened and hens were painted on the inside. I enjoy “hunting” for the right one to fit the occasion, but I’ve also made a few mistakes.

I was probably trying to be too clever in selecting a FOX themed box. However, she used to enjoy collecting peacocks when she worked for the NBC affiliate. A Limoges box, on the other hand, is a bit too pricey for our $50 limit on this type of whimsical collecting. When she left NBC, she gave them all away, except for the Peacock Limoges. She now works for FOX, but the budget meetings, especially the early arrival, had her in a bad mood. As a result, she did not think the Fox Limoges was funny, plus apparently I had already given her a “Hunting FOX.” This is one of the predictable casualties of too much in a collection, despite the fact that I keep a list. The search function failed me, as I failed her. I sent it back for a replacement, but here’s the poem.

Fox and Hen

It used to be peacocks,
But those days have passed.
It’s amazing how many,
Of those we’ve amassed.

Now the channel has changed,
And it’s time to start anew.
The FOX transition,
Is two years overdue.

With the Valentine display,
Full of porcelain hearts.
The collection of foxes,
Now officially starts.

This box an exception,
To the less than $50 rule.
But the HEN on the clasp,
Makes this one cool.

The FOX & Hound,
Was an early rendezvous.
Back when I was quickly,
Falling in love with you.

Your love of Broadway,
As I learned to know.
“Light in the Piazza,”
Our first FOX show.

The Fabulous FOX,
For Spamalot, too.
Like the Jersey Boys,
“Can’t take my eyes off you.”

You have A FOX coat,
But fur it’s not.
Unlike those that I,
Paid Bill Wallace a lot.

You’re my FOXY Lady,
I’ve always thought,
A vixen of beauty,
That I finally caught.

Maybe you’ll see me,
As your “Fantastic Mr. FOX?”
While our love story continues,
Through another Limoges Box.

FOXES mate for life,
Let’s hope that’s true.
Now twenty for us.
With many more due.

That night at Eddy’s,
Opportunity Knocks. ‘
In a FOXY “Tan-T,
Red Sweats, & White Socks.’

We met through our work,
And it led to play.
You’ll join me in retirement,
And we’ll cruise away.

Throughout your career,
It’s been your tradition.
I know you’ll continue,
To OUTFOX the competition

Happy Valentine’s Day,
To the love of my life.
You’re a proud mother HEN,
And my FOXY LOXY wife.

The are references to several famous FOXES in this work of silly rhyme, including The Fox and Hound – a now shutterd Indy restaurant, St. Louis’ Fabulous Fox Theater, Chicken Little’s Foxy Loxy, and the George Clooney movie, The Fabulous Mr. Fox. There is also a reference to a poem that I wrote for her after that first “date” 20 years ago, and her love of Broadway shows. Ironically, I had also bought advance tickets on Fandango for a movie last night at the Regal Fox Theater that I forgot to include in the poem. As it turns out, the weather was bad so we couldn’t drive downtown to the movie. Just as I thought that I had made another foolish purchase, Fandango kindly issued me a credit. As we discussed, it did not make sense to spend $50 on an Uber ride for a $20 movie (Senior Citizen discount). I might not have been able to even hire an Uber, considering their lack of availability this morning.

With a new Limoges box on the way, a new poem to write, and the real Valentine’s Day yet to celebrate in Phoenix, I still have a chance to make this right. Let’s just hope that the budget meetings go well. At least she’s there in plenty of time, while I’m trying to be as constructive as possible in her absence.