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.

Copyright 2019 johnstonwrites.com