Matt Stairs would not resurface again in the Major Leagues until 1995, and as a member of the Boston Red Sox, totaling ninety-five plate appearances. It would not be until his age twenty-nine season as a member of the Oakland Athletics that Matt Stairs would become a Major League regular. By the time he retired at the age of forty-three Matt Stairs had played twenty-two seasons of professional baseball.

He had been a (in order); Jamestown Expo, Rockford Expo, West Palm Beach Expo, Jacksonville Expo, Harrisburg Senator, Indianapolis Indian, Montreal Expo, Ottawa Lynx, Chunichi Dragon (Japanese league), Montreal Expo (again), New Britain Red Sock, Pawtucket Red Sock, Boston Red Sock, Edmonton Trapper, Oakland Athletic, Chicago Cub, Milwaukee Brewer, Nashville Sound, Pittsburg Pirate, Kansas City Royal, Texas Ranger, Detroit Tiger, Toronto Blue Jay, Philadelphia Phillie, and finally Washington National (The reader should note the irony that Mr. Stairs begin and end his career with the same organization, remembering that the Montreal Expos who drafted Matt in 1989 relocated to Washington and changed their name to the Nationals).

In 2008 Matt Stairs was a member of the World Champion Philadelphia Phillies. He played in nineteen games and recorded seventeen appearances, he was signed late in the season to be an experienced pinch hitter, able to come off the bench in late game situations. In one of his seventeen plate appearances Matt Stairs labored (and I say labored because anyone who saw the overweight white guy with the body of a substitute teacher swing a bat knew it was an act of physical labor) a homerun deep into right field of Dodger stadium. It was with one out and one man on in game three of the National League Championship Series against Jonathon Broxton. Google Matt Stairs and the first suggestion is “homerun in 2008 playoffs.”

The homerun is an absolute beauty. One of those moon shots that are absolutely gone from the second the ball leaves the bat. Watching that game, with an already large soft spot for Matt Stairs, I couldn’t help but smile that the portly Canadian had finally etched his name, however small, into baseball history.

Wins Above Replacement or WAR is an advanced baseball metric. It measures the amount of value, pure value that a player brings to a team. How many wins above replacement value does player x add to a team. Replacement being defined as an average AAA player.For Reference the best players in baseball are usually between 7.0-10.5 in the WAR category. Last year, Mike Trout of the Anaheim Angels had a truly historic season and according to WAR was worth 10.9 or 11 wins.

Matt Stairs never had a WAR above 3.1 and that was for one season, his would have only one more season with a WAR above 1.0. His annual number hovering somewhere between 0.8 and -1.0. Matt Stairs was, in every sense of the word average. Completely and totally average. He was the ‘Replacement’ in WAR, the bench Mark for what every Mike Trout and Miguel Cabrera and Alex Rodriguez is measured against.

For a couple summers in my early adolescence my friend’s father would take me and his son to Minor League baseball games around Central Texas. The Round Rock Express and San Antonio Missions became breeding grounds for my deep seated feelings about the sport. In tiny Minor League stadiums the players are, for the most part, almost completely accessible. Without the celebrity that accompanies the big leaguers. Guys in ‘small-ball’ often use the same entrance and exits into the stadium, often park in the same tiny lots, and usually drive cars of the same monetary value as the people in the stands.

My friend and I were waiting outside the stadium to get autographs of a few big-time prospects that were coming through San Antonio, when we saw him, in person for the first time. Matt Stairs was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, eating Arby’s that looked cold, and talking to another player about whether he could eat Bennigans for a third straight night. Next to him a couple Dominican players who looked barely older than me and my junior high aged friend were flirting in Spanish with a group of Mexican girls.

It was one of those scenes you see played out in movies like Bull Durham. The grizzled baseball veteran who is overweight, cynical and way past his never-actually-existing prime juxtaposed with two young Caribbean’s who are fast, strong, promising and literally, tall, dark and handsome. Ever the showoff I shouted out “Matt Stairs, Whoop Whoop” and he looked at me and with a level of genuine surprise and gratitude smiled and waved.  From that moment on, Matt Stairs was, if not my favorite player, my spiritual favorite.

Why wasn’t he more people’s favorite player? I guess that answer is obvious, ‘he wasn’t any good.’ But aren’t 95% of us Matt Stairs. We are all phenomenally average. Neither gorgeous nor ugly, intelligent nor illiterate, rich nor starving, we all seem to be hovering right at replacement level. Sure, there are one or two among us who by sheer awesome luck or winning the genetic lottery will achieve wonderful and great things but we just don’t acknowledge this blinding reality because it’s not something anyone can really articulate.

The prevailing narrative of success, especially in the United States is one of a direct correlation between work, effort, drive, and success. That we are only separated from our wealth and status by effort and desire. Direct cause and effect between work and wealth is an easy one to accept, because it’s simply more pleasant to live in a world where we have more control over our own lives than do other people or blind inconsiderate luck. For the sake of argument I will concede the fact that yes, some people are just lazy and frankly do not push themselves for any quality of life above the minimum standard. While others are able to hustle and bustle their way to the top.

However, to say that everything in the world is determined by some Ayn Rand level of work ethic and discipline is simply ignoring the truth and burying your head into the sand of self-importance. How many incredibly talented actors have moved to New York or LA, worked three jobs, went to literally hundreds of auditions and only appeared in one commercial? How many short kids have stayed in the gym until the lights turned off shooting free throws only to get cut from the high school squad because their parents gave them insignificant chromosomes? How many bored teenagers have pounded their head at The Great Gatsby searching for the essay that will get them the A only to realize they don’t have the literary talent? Major realities that we face as a species are avoided because it’s just easier and more pleasant to live with the idea that your level of work equals your level of success.

The scariest thing about Matt Stairs is that by simply playing Major League Baseball he was; probably at any given time one of the top five or six hundred baseball players in the world. The absolutely crushing majority of all baseball players signed or drafted will never make it to the Major Leagues. And they are signed without any intention to do so. These players are what’s called ‘Organizational Depth’ they are not drafted or signed to be stars or starters or even back-ups on the big league squad. They are signed to be cannon fodder for the handful of prospects relentless climbing up the system.

There are countless AA burnouts who would kill for Matt Stairs’ career, but we just don’t talk about that, or we tell ourselves that they burned out because they didn’t work hard enough. Fans spend countless hours arguing about the most minute of personnel moves of our favorite teams. Rod Barajas or Gerald Laird will not make a single bit of difference.

What truly separated Matt Stairs from Alex Rodriguez? Did A-Rod actually, honestly, take that much more batting practice over the course of his life than Matt Stairs? Why don’t people talk about Matt Stairs, or the billion other phenomenally average players that make up sports-entertainment? Because to do so is to acknowledge that you yourself are not one of the special ones.

People buy Kobe Bryant and Derek Jeter Jerseys because each of us, inside our heads, in the very back quiet recesses of our own thoughts tells ourselves that we are Kobe Bryant. I am not Matt Stairs, I am not a career minor leaguer, I am definitely above Replacement Value.

This is not to say that there is anything wrong or depressing with being average. A functioning society needs, literally millions of average hard-working people. People who lead lives of quiet desperation, looking forward to nothing more than driving home, kissing their wife and maybe playing golf with their daughter if they have time this weekend. This is what we are. So why not embrace that in our athletics? Let the owner of the restaurant where you wait tables cheer for Kobe Bryant.

Because you, me, and 95% of the rest of us, we are Matt Stairs. Our lives are too short and too varied and too dependent on everything else to completely control our own destiny. So we just don’t talk about it. Because the dark soulless truth is that we aren’t even Matt Stairs. We are organizational depth.

The post What Can We Learn from Matt Stairs appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Chipper Jones is retiring after this season. In the spring of 2013, Chipper Jones will not be a member of the Atlanta Braves, he will not be a member of Major League Baseball, he will be retired. Retired is a term of endearment, it is a compliment, only the best of players get to retire, get to decide when they leave. Everyone else is cut, released, or uninvited back. Great players retire; everyone else is simply referred to as “out of baseball.” Maybe this will be a good thing for him and his family, his wife will get to spend more time with Larry Wayne Jones Jr. and less time dealing with Chipper, his daughter Shea will get to spend more time with dad, and less time watching Chipper.

So what? Every year, in every sport a great player retires, they get standing ovations in every stadium they play in and everyone writes articles about how special “player X” was. We “thank them for the memories” and move on, eventually they are replaced with “player Y” and the sports world keeps turning. But for me, the retirement of Chipper Jones is something special, something unique and for the past month I have become obsessed with him.

I didn’t grow up as a Braves fan, I never have been and unless I live in Atlanta one day, I probably never will be. The Braves played a thousand miles away and in a league that didn’t affect my team. However, I don’t remember a time when baseball didn’t include him. I have loved baseball for as long as I can remember, and for as long as I can remember Chipper Jones has been a part of baseball. Growing up in the mid to late nineties, watching the Braves play endless playoff games and occasionally watching on TBS, I developed what I called the Chipper Jones song. The lyrics went something like this; “Chippa Chippa Chippa Chippa Chippa Chippa Jones, Chippa Chippa Chippa Chippa Chippa Jones, yeah” (The yeah is important lyrically, because it gives the song depth. Without the yeah, I was simply a 6 year old boy spouting nonsense). So following him and the Braves the last month of the season has been an act of savoring. Similar to the way people spend more time walking around campus their last semester before graduation, I wanted to cram in my head as many images of Chipper Jones as I could before he goes for good.

When you are a little boy, baseball players are titans, walking deities who are so much more than men. I will never forget what my older brother (who is 12 years my senior) said to me when I asked him who his favorite player was “Kyle, when you are as old as most of the players, you stop having favorites.” Chipper Jones, Mariano Rivera and Derek Jeter are the last players left that fit that bill for me (Rivera and Jeter are Yankees, so I never liked them anyway). They are akin to the last dying veterans of a war that was fought 60 years ago, living fossils who have felt the sport change more so than any other previous generation of players. Since Chipper Jones began his career in 1993, Major League Baseball has seen a strike-shortened season, the home run record broken (more than once), the introduction of the wild card), the rise of Asian born players, an All-Star game end in a tie, the rise of sabermetrics, Moneyball, the fallout of the Steriod era, lying to Congressmen, the return of small-ball and much else. Between 1993 and 2012 baseball has changed dramatically, but Chipper Jones was always playing third base in Atlanta.

For me, as a 20 year old college student, I have been fascinated by Chipper Jones’ retirement and transition. Chipper Jones is no longer a baseball player and I am no longer a child. So I guess if Mr. Jones feels it necessary to no longer play baseball, I guess I should stop wasting money on baseball caps, pulling all-nighters and asking my parents for money. I will miss what Chipper Jones represented to me, a time when baseball players were larger than life titans. Chipper Jones is far from perfect; his marital issues have been public record for two decades. But when you’re a 6, 7, 8 year old kid, that stuff is invisible behind the incandescent glow of someone hitting a baseball. Playing wiffle ball as a kid we would always call out the name of the player we wanted to be (Chipper Jones and Pudge Rodriguez were my go-tos) So when Chipper stops playing baseball and the Braves are eliminated from the play-offs my last great titan will be gone. Adulthood has turned players into a collection of numbers and abilities to be judged, scrutinized, and occasionally mocked by angry fans with waiting keyboards. My grandfather likes to tell me about Jaun Marichal, Sandy Koufax, Whitey Ford, Mikey Mantle and Willy Mays and I love to listen. His voice is without the bitterness or anger that often peppers his speech about current players (he is not impressed with you, Mr. Ian Kinsler). Already I can feel the difference in myself, baseball players are no longer heroes, they are simply well-paid employees of a business that I happen to associate with. I will miss Chipper Jones a lot next year. Not because I give a damn about the Braves, not because I thought Jones was especially scrappy, and not because Jones was important to my fantasy team. I will miss Chipper Jones because even as an oft-sarcastic and sleep-deprived college undergrad, he was always Chippa Chippa Chippa Jones, Yeah.

The post When The Titans Are Gone appeared first on KRUI Radio.

It is an uncommon thing for any one in Iowa City to be jealous of anything that comes out of Ames.

Iowa State is a fine university and from all accounts, Ames is a good place to raise a family; however, if there is any single commodity that Hawkeyes seem to have in abundance it is pride.

As Paul Rhoads ran off the field on Saturday afternoon, with two fingers extended high above his head, it was hard for some Hawkeye fans not to be a little jealous.

Paul Rhoads’ team played like they always do, over their heads, passionate, and sloppy. It is a double edged sword for the Cyclone program under Rhoads, the passion and joy that he gets his teams to play with is what drives them up and down the field against a more talented defense; however, the lack of detailed focus is what causes three redzone turnovers.

Those turnovers are what kept Iowa alive until the final moments. However, a James Vandenberg interception with little over a minute to go sealed the Iowa State win. Paul Rhoads was (So) Proud, and the underdog Cyclones won a game in Kinnick Stadium.

The first college football Saturday in places like Iowa City is a special event, and the entire spectrum of humanity can be witnessed on the long walk to a stadium.

Tasteless and arrogant men in shirts that depict all kinds of sodomy against opposing mascots, or shirts that read, “I’d rather shower at Penn state then cheer for the cyclones,” flood the streets close to campus. They cling to thirty- packs of cheap beer and spout a whole lot of nothing about the game they are about to watch.

These men are like bugs, never alone, and never appreciated. However, on the opposite end of the spectrum, or perhaps, further down the assembly line of age and class, young families often mothers and fathers with children no older than ten throw around a football and tell legends of long-ago Hawkeye moments.

A college football Saturday will, at the same time, disgust and embarrass you, and make you immensely proud of this weird, insular, and expensive tradition we have cultivated in small college towns with big football. The worst things about a college football Saturday are also its best things, binge drinking, fried food, upsets, and sundresses.

The walk to Kinnick on this most recent Saturday was a walk of anticipation, and expression. About one in ten people were wearing red and gold, and about one in ten people were wearing the wrong colors.

The Iowa State fan base is an interesting one in college football.

Iowa State has one of the smallest revenue streams of any ‘BCS’ program. Not to mention the fact that Ames is one of the most isolated places in college football and it is no wonder that ISU football does not have a reputation for dominance. But the knowledge of these shortcomings is one of the things that make ISU fans so special.

They are the opposite of fair-weather fans; people who choose to support the cyclones do so, usually, under obligation. Either they are alumni, or their parents were alumni. ISU as a brand is not strong enough to attract casual fans with no particular tie, compared to the Hawkeyes who are historically better and more nationally and locally relevant. But, for the most part, cyclone fans are aware of this, and many of them will acknowledge these facts, it doesn’t matter though.

ISU fans cling to the yellow and red closer than most Hawkeyes cling to the black and gold. Being a fan of the ‘little brother’ program in a state is harder, more frustrating, and less enjoyable on a day-to-day basis. But the payoffs, which are fewer, are more exhilarating ten fold.

When James Vandenberg’s last pass was intercepted and the small but (so) proud ISU section erupted, those fans were immediately aware of what they had done.

In that final and fleeting instant, when they realized what had happened, they were acutely aware of all the disadvantages, both real and imagined that they faced. Financially, physically, all those little things that keep the Hawkeyes above the Cyclones, they knew it.

They felt it, and it suddenly didn’t matter any more. Nothing mattered anymore. The little brother had won, and all the smug a**hole faces of the people who wear black couldn’t do anything about it.

For the Hawkeyes on the field, the future can only get better; I see no reasons for this parade of futility to continue.

There is too much talent at the receiver position, and way too much talent in James Vandenberg’s right arm for this offense not to start playing at a high level.

However, the Hawkeyes’ coaching staff could take a page out of the Cyclone playbook. Playing with emotion, passion, and frankly fun could do good things for this Hawkeye team.

It is probably only a matter of time until the offense begins to play like we expect it too, but until then I am a little jealous of what they have in Ames.

The post My Brother’s Keeper appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Does he look at depth charts and rosters, arguing with himself about which one of the giants he in charge of should play more than the others? Does he look over his children’s homework before they go to school?

Maybe he doesn’t think about anything at all, maybe he just drinks his coffee with the tenacity and authority of a man with an important and well-paying job.

Minnesotans by reputation are nice, self – deprecating people with sly sense of humor and an appreciation for good conversation. Garrison Keillor and Joe Mauer are both wonderful representations of their native state. Also by reputation, Minnesotans are bad at football. It could be the only place in the continental U.S. where people ask ‘is it hockey season yet?’

Out of the manual for ‘rebuilding a dormant football program’ Minnesota has done the right things: they built an opulent stadium, changed up their uniforms, and hired a tenured and successful coach. They have done everything except the final and most important step: ‘win football games’ and that may be elusive for some time.

Their offense is anchored by Marquise Gray, a dual threat quarterback who rushed 966 yards and six touchdowns last year, while throwing for 1,495 yards and 8 touchdowns (8 interceptions as well).

The running back is James Gillum, a new player, fresh from the junior college ranks, and the defense will be led by corner back Troy Stoudermire.

Gray is both the best player on the team, and the worst. His ability to run and create plays is something that is sorely lacking on the Golden Gopher football team, however, his inconsistency and the frequency with which he throws the ball to people wearing the wrong jersey harms the team just as much.

The duality of nature is also a problem for Jerry Kill. He is at one time a tough no-nonsense authoritarian who is successful in his profession, and suffering from chronic health issues. At one point last year he even had a seizure on the side line and had to be carted off the field.

Minnesota’s schedule includes four winnable games at the start of the season, and games with Illinois and Purdue could be winnable. Bowl eligibility could be a real possibility for this team; however, so could loosing every B1G game. It is hard to know what to expect from Minnesota this year.

The season will come down to Jerry Kill’s ability to stay on the sideline and Marquis Gray’s ability to throw the ball to the right team.

If James Joyce were writing about this team, he would something like “The newspapers were right; yes. Snow is general all over Minnesota.” Then he would stop writing about American football, because he lived in Paris and died long before college football became the national and cultural goliath that it is.

However, I think Joyce would be attracted to this team because of the state they represent. Joyce, a native Irishman, would probably enjoy Minnesota’s brutal winters, its cultural alcoholism, and the funny accents. The Gopher state would probably remind Mr. Joyce of home.

So maybe that is what Jerry Kill thinks about when he drinks coffee. “I hope Marquis Gray stays healthy, I hope I stay healthy, I hope the students come out, I hope Iowa isn’t very good this year.”

If you are a betting man, MAC darling Western Michigan in week three could be an easy upset pick. I see wins against New Hampshire, Syracuse and Illinois. Possibly getting upsets against Northwestern and Purdue. But for now, it looks to be another disappointing year in the Twin Cities, with a 3-9 record.

It could be a long time before Minnesota is successful again, however, considering the relative nature of ‘success’ simply winning a bowl game would be a major coup for Kill and company. But for now, snow is general all over Minnesota.

The post On Minnesota Football, Modernism, and the Duality of Life appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The 2012 football season for the Penn State Nittany Lions will be a season of rebuilding as the program enters its first season in the post-Paterno era. Or, depending on who you ask, it could be a season of punishment as they enter the post-Sandusky era.

Right now, the Nittany Lions are a million different things to a million different people. An example of everything that is wrong with college sports, or the victim of an over-zealous NCAA, trying to cover its own name at the expense of a once-prominent football program.

One thing we do know is that the 2012 Penn State football team is not going to matter to the Big Ten championship picture.

For the past 35 years of college football no team had been surer of its identity than Penn State. The whole country knew what to expect with Penn State: fundamental football, fundamental jerseys, gigantic polish guys at line- backer and Joe Paterno. But for now, all that is in the past.

The only thing messier than the divorce between PSU and Joe Paterno was the speed and severity at which it happened. In August of 2011, no one could have even expected that within 365 days the entire program would look and feel different. The Paterno’s are gone, the football team is under heavy sanctions, and when Penn State is in the news, it has nothing to do with football.

Simply watching the Nittany Lions this year will be about so much more than football. It will be about healing, redemption, garnering some pride, and trying to rebuild what was at one time the model in college football. Or, depending on who you ask, the 2012 season will be about shame, regret, hatred, and utter disgust at what Penn State has done to our beloved college football.

Anyone who tells you that they know what to expect out of the Nittany Lions this season is lying, even Bill O’Brien. For no game on their schedule should Penn State be expected to win, yet there are a handful of games that could go either way.

Without everything that happened, home games like Ohio, Navy, Temple, and Indiana would have been sure-fire wins. But Penn State has lost (at time of writing) nine starters from last year’s team. A team that was decidedly average with those players.

I do not feel comfortable enough to make a prediction about the out-come of games this season. The only thing I do feel comfortable in saying is that Penn State will provide a challenge to the sports writers and talk-show hosts of the nation, as every game will come pre-loaded with narrative and story-lines attached.

I’m sure that senior night (November 24^th) against Wisconsin will produce hundreds of columns about the ‘heart and class of the guys that stuck around’ and everyone will feel really great about themselves.

If they do win a game this year it will feel like a National Championship and the fans and students will shout things like “P-S-U” or maybe if they are really bold (or stupid) “Pa-Tern-O.”

Everyone will be watching Penn state this season, just for reasons other than football. Right now, Penn State is both a completely open canvas, waiting for the hands of Bill O’Brien, or a Jackson Pollack painting, full of chaos and disorder.

The post The Season Ahead: Penn State appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Football in the state of Indiana has been dominated by a small catholic school in South Bend and the recent run of great Purdue quarterbacks, while the flagship University of the State has routinely failed to put a competitive team on the field.

Head Coach Kevin Wilson (Photo from iuhoosiers.com)

Like the Kansas Jayhawks and Kentucky Wildcats, Indiana Hoosier football has struggled to get the notoriety and prestige of the basketball program, while commonly being the doormat of its own conference. In the past 5 years Indiana has been a combined 21-40. Additionally, in the past 20 years this program has been to only two bowl games (’93 and ’07). As a result, the administration has turned to Kevin Wilson for the future of the program.

Wilson, formerly the Offensive Coordinator for the Oklahoma Sooners, engineered the offense of two Heisman trophy winners (Jason White and Sam Bradford) and oversaw one of the most prolific offenses of the last decade. Although a 1-11 record in his first year may not have convinced many people of his ability, his resume as an OC is incredible. It will be interesting to see, however, if his offensive strategies can work without the talent the Sooners had.

Last year, one of the only positive signs was the commitment of national #1 quarterback, and all around super-recruit, Gunner Kiel. But Kiel, in what could be a microcosm of Hoosier football as a whole, decommited from Indiana and signed with Notre Dame.

The offense will be anchored by sophomore Tre Robertson, a dual threat quarterback who was Indiana’s second leading rusher and passer despite only starting the last 5 games. Even while throwing three touchdowns and six interceptions last year, Robertson is the incumbent starter and the foundation of an offense designed to generate lots of completions and spread the field.

Stephen Houston will also return at running back. Houston rushed for 833 yards and 8 touchdowns last year, including strong performances against Wisconsin (135 yards), Northwestern (151 yards) and Purdue (129 yards). Houston projects to be a dependable and consistent option at running back and could take some pressure off of Robertson.

Juniors Jamonne Chester and Kofi Hughes return to a receiving core that is looking to improve on last season’s parade of injuries and poor-play. Hughes was, by far, Indiana’s most productive receiver last year with 536 yards receiving, and 3 Touchdowns. Loosing Demarlo Belcher and Dre Muhammad will hurt, but it is not crippling and the receiver play should be greatly improved.

The offensive line will be young with only one senior, center Will Matte. However, the unit returns 58 combined starts and will be in the second year of a new system. Under coach Wilson, who played offensive line in college and always had great O-lines at Oklahoma, look for this to be the strongest unit on the offense.

The defensive line was a huge problem for the Hoosiers last year, as they allowed 244 rushing yards per game, and only recorded 18 sacks the entire season. However, the D-line returns 3 starters, including 2 seniors, and cannot possibly be any worse than they were in 2011.

The linebackers will have to find a way to replace Jeff Thomas, who was the leading tackler on the team at middle linebacker. They do return Chase Hoobler, who had 48 tackles and 2 sacks last year. The other two linebacker spots have been replaced by junior college transfers Jacarri Alexander and David Cooper. Alexander was a highly regarded prospect and a major ‘get’ for the Hoosiers and I expect him to be the best player on defense and possibly the best player on the team by mid-season.

In the defensive back-field Antonio Marshall is another highly touted Junior college transfer, who is projected to help the Hoosiers greatly. This unit did not play well at all last year and had only 5 interceptions for the entire season. But, the defensive backs as a whole are much more experienced this season and the addition of Antonio Marshall means this unit should improve in 2012.

Indiana as a whole is much more experienced and there are several bright spots on the field. Tre Robertson is an exciting talent and the addition of junior college stars will most certainly help the defense. Last year Wilson had a strict ‘my way or the highway’ approach and that led to a lot of transfers in 2011; however, this year the Hoosiers return a lot of players and only have 4 seniors as projected starters.

Indiana is a young, fast, and overall intriguing team and I firmly believe that Wilson has them on track to a better future. But, their 2012 schedule is not an easy one, as their most winnable games are on the road and their home slate is brutal (Michigan State, Ohio State, Iowa and Wisconsin). Sadly for Indiana it is not hard to imagine another 1-11 season, as their non-conference schedule includes a road trip to UMass and a game with Ball state, who beat them last year.

All things considered, Wilson is doing a great job but the rebuilding process will take years. Youth and returning starters are great things for Indiana but this program was just so completely devoid of talent when Wilson got there that there was little he could do in his first season.

Have patience Hoosier fans, you’ve got a long road to respectability, but I predict a 4-8 season with wins over Indiana state, Navy, Ball State and Penn State.

Feature image courtesy of www.bleacherreport.com

The post The Season Ahead: Indiana appeared first on KRUI Radio.

With all the change that has come to the Iowa football program this year, the overwhelming message from the team and coaches at media day was that nothing has really changed. According to coach Ferentz the keys to the season are going to be “improvement” and “developing consistency.”  Which he also mentioned, “can be said for any team and organization.”

However, Ferentz did say that he expects to see “as many, if not more true freshmen than last year” and a depth chart that “you can throw out the window by mid-season.”

One thing Ferentz would not give a definitive answer on was the opening at running back position, routinely dodging the question and saying that the field is wide open.

On what to expect from the offense this season as a whole, new Offensive Coordinator Greg Davis gave some insight: “We have to be balanced, hopefully 50/50” and that “James [Vandenberg] has a lot of similarities to Colt [McCoy].” If fans have been hoping to see the same explosive offenses on the field that we saw at Texas under Davis, the question of talent still remains an issue and when asked if Iowa had the adequate talent for his offense Davis responded “that remains to be seen.”

As for who will be the Hawkeyes’ starting running back, Davis said that if play started today Damon Bullock would be the starter, but also said that, “It would not surprise me to go into the opening part of the season [with running back] by committee.” Adding, “I would be comfortable handing it to a true freshmen, I gave the position to Jamal Charles and Cedric Benson at Texas.”

Defensively, continuing the theme of new dogs and old tricks, Phil Parker stressed “I think we are gonna stick with the same formula, look at the percentages… we are going to be very similar to what we have been.”

When asked how he felt about becoming the new Defensive Coordinator Phil replied, “It just kind of happened and I have the utmost respect for coach Ferentz.”

With another Ferentz on the Staff in Brian (Son of Kirk) as the tight end coach, center James Ferentz (also son of Kirk) gave some insight into what it’s like taking orders from his brother: “not much has changed, he just has a title now.” James Ferentz had to say that “The terminology will change… but the scheme will stay the same.”

Until the start of the season, that’s all anyone can really expect: the names have changed, but the scheme looks the same.

Quarterback James Vandenberg said, “I think its going to be a lot of things fans don’t notice: new terminology, different route combinations. I think we all realize that the personality of coach Davis is a lot different and we are kind of feeding off that energy.”

When asked if he would like to try running a different style of offense, maybe an Oregon or West Virginia style, Vandenberg responded with “Absolutely not, those guys are so much bigger and faster than me that I would be a punter if I was playin in those offenses. I got recruited by Nebraska, good thing I didn’t go there.”

Obviously, the burning question of the day was at the running back position to which Vandenberg is not afraid of it at all. When asked how much it affects the team, he responded: “It’s nothing… who ever they put in there is going to be coached up that I am not worried about it.”

Featured image courtesy of times republican.com

Photos in post credit to Stephen McDonald, KRUI Sports

The post Dispatch from Iowa Football Media Day appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I don’t have to tell you what happened at Penn State. If you are reading this site, you know who Joe Paterno was, and you know what Jerry Sandusky did. Everything has come to light, and the atrocities are exactly what you feared most. What we all feared most. College Football’s grandfather was a liar and a coward.

You can spin this anyway you want, but the recent evidence is unavoidable; Paterno and the leadership at Penn State knew what was going on, and they chose to do nothing about it. People defending Joe Paterno need to remember that and hold their tongues for awhile.

However, we have to treat this with rationality. Writing a thousand words about how awful something or someone is does nothing to help the situation. I shouldn’t have to convince you that what happened in State College was evil. So I am not here to give you the daily two-minute hate that is nothing but a search for hits or pageviews or whatever form of digital attention exists in this medium.

Joe Paterno made a mistake, a hideous one. But that does not mean that we should throw our rage in that direction. Joe Paterno is dead, Jerry Sandusky is going to die in prison, and everyone else responsible will either die in prison, or die with the knowledge of what they did. I am not sure what is worse.

The university itself is going to face a federal investigation, and millions of dollars in civil cases. Not to mention immeasurable cost of public shame for the remainder of this generation. There is nothing for us to say, nothing for us to write. The damage, the unspeakable, untreatable, ocean of damage has been done and our pithy comments don’t make the victims’ lives any better.

For the average person this scandal will fade away in a year or so, and something else will take its place in the national spotlighr of hatred. But for the college football fan this will forever serve as a warning to the power of a program. It will serve as a warning to what can happen when a coach becomes an idol before he becomes a memory. We don’t know what will happen to Penn State or what will become of the football program, but this unspeakable crime and the equally appalling apathy of those in charge should leave a deservedly ugly stain on Happy Valley for a long time.

Penn State has become the prime example of what can happen when the people in charge do nothing to stop a monster.

The views or opinions expressed in this article do not necessairly represent the views of KRUI, Student Broadcasters Inc., or the University of Iowa.

(Cover photo courtesy of ketknbc.com)

The post Of Mice and Men: What Happened in State College appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Some people had already left the stadium. Some people were in their cars going to catfish joints to talk about the season and what went wrong in the final series. Some people were holding their kids hands and telling them that even if the home team loses, everything is okay, because it’s just baseball. But most people were still in their seats, focused on the game, praying that if they stayed until the last pitch a miracle would happen.

Not wanting to leave, and miss her sons last at bat ever she stayed. Holding her husband’s hand as the other team scored run after run and the outcome became decided long before the ninth inning. She remembered all the tournaments, all the games, everything. From the time he was in fifth grade; almost every weekend was spent on baseball.

She always told her son that baseball could only come third in his life after Jesus and grades. But one look in his room, and aside from a crucifix above his bed, it was hard to tell if there was anything else he cared about.

The game ended on a strike out, as the other team poured onto the field. The remaining fans stood and applauded them for a deserved win. But it was still the wrong team celebrating. It was the wrong color jerseys being waved above heads, it was the wrong coach being drenched in Gatorade, and it was the wrong sons being congratulated by the wrong mothers.

She bit it her lip and promised not to cry, but when he came out of the dugout, and she saw his face, she broke her promise. Holding his catcher’s mask and his equipment he made his way out toward the stands.  She grabbed him and hugged him over the railing; she buried her face in the corner of his neck and breathed deeply. She knew that smell, the mixture of sweat, pine tar, leather, and chewing tobacco. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but it was real, and it always reminded her of summer, and baseball. But mostly, that smell reminded her of her son.

So she stood there and they held each other for a long time, because she knew this would be the last time she smelt that smell and hugged her son after a ball game. In that instant, while holding him, she remembered it all. She remembered the mountains of

letters he started getting in high school. She remembered the way he and his dad would sit in the back yard and talk about every detail of every game.

Some families do charity, some families do music, but her family had always done baseball. And now it was over, there were no more road trips to games, no more equipment to buy, no more chatting with the other baseball moms in the stands above the dugout. So as she stood there holding him across the railing, she didn’t want to let go. She didn’t want to open her eyes on an empty stadium, with the final score still reminding everyone of the tragedy of the evening.

A team from Long Island, with no history, and no fans had shocked the Bayou Bengals, in Baton Rouge. Losing the series hurt, but losing baseball hurt more. Being the mother of the catcher for LSU was a piece of pride that she could show to anyone who asked, in line at the super-market, or at the neighborhood BBQ with the other housewives.

She could see that he had been crying, when he walked into the dugout. He told her that he wanted to be with his team tonight and that he would meet them for breakfast in the morning. She and her husband finally turned around and left the stadium. They got in their car and were headed to meet some of the other parents at a gumbo place, as they drove away they saw the lights over Alex Box Stadium go dark.

The drive between Austin and Baton Rouge is a long one, and somewhere around Lake Charles she realized that she would be happy about this memory one day, that one day in the future she would remember all the baseball and all the games her son played and she would smile. But it isn’t today, and it won’t be tomorrow.

The post When the Lights Go Out appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The Texas Rangers lost to the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim 3 to 2 the other night, which shouldn’t affect me. The outcome of a game played by people I have never met against another group of people that have no relation to should have no bearing on my feelings about myself whatsoever, but it does. I feel weak, stupid, and I feel like a fool because the team I have chosen to follow wears Texas across its chest.

That’s the funny thing about being a fan. We keep playing the odds when we know the odds are stacked against us. Every year I invest more time and money into the Texas Rangers than I can properly afford, and every year I am disappointed. Maybe that’s a good thing, but it’s probably not.

Dell, yes the computer company, originated in my hometown and is still based in Austin. It has a much more real and tangible effect on the outcomes and livelihoods of people that I know and share my last name; yet, I do not check the stock prices of the company daily. I do not read articles about meetings of their senior executives. I do not pay money to watch the announcement of their latest computer. On a day-to-day basis the doings of Dell do not register on my radar.

Maybe it is my grandfather’s fault. For as long as I can remember I would spend a couple of weeks a summer in the north Texas town of Jacksboro, and every summer my granny and poppy would take me to Arlington to see the Texas Rangers.

Ivan Rodriguez, Rusty Greer, Juan Gonzalez, and Rafael Palmero were the names that first introduced me to baseball, and I would return home with arms bursting full of jerseys, posters, hats and pennants for the Rangers. So maybe that’s where the curse of fandom began.

I keep listening to sad Brad Paisley songs trying to re-imagine that last at-bat: what if Josh Hamilton hadn’t chased the outside curveball and the Rangers actually won the game? Whatever the case, I have attached a large portion of my self-worth to the Texas Rangers and it is not going to change anytime soon. I just hope that tomorrow a group of highly paid professionals can defeat another group of millionaires in a game that has direct effect on my life. (By the way, they did 7-3)

But that is the absurdity of fandom. As sports fans we attach meaning to these arbitrary contests and decide, like a group of spoiled children, that we cannot be happy if we don’t get exactly our way. It is stupid, it is foolish, and it is sports.

The post The Emotional Toll of Sports Fandom appeared first on KRUI Radio.