Tue., Aug. 2, 2016
Tue., Jul. 5, 2016
Tue., May. 31, 2016
Fri., May. 27, 2016
Mon., May. 16, 2016
Fri., May. 13, 2016
Thu., May. 12, 2016
Gotta be honest with you. Things have been ornery ’round this blog for the past couple of weeks. So much sniping and snark in the comments. I almost read right past the insightful, passionate thoughts that are always eventually expressed and that I count on from you guys.
Right now, I’m guessing you’re probably looking at the title of this post and the time stamp and figuring in your head that if I’m headed anywhere at this hour it’s bound to be dark. As such, you’re formulating some way to mock me, or Kelvin Sampson or any of the players who left or Barack Obama or your neighbor’s dog. Whatever.
But hold on. Let me explain.
I’m sitting on my couch at about 1:30 in the morning, doing what I’ve done too often lately at that hour: flipping through the pages of one of the documents related to the violations committed by Indiana’s basketball program under Kelvin Sampson. I was trying to read over as much of it as I can, looking for things I missed the first time and trying to jog my memory about all the days that led up to this.
Then, an explosion. Something like a gun shot, about a block away. All is dark. And quiet. That might have actually been the most shocking part; the air-conditioners and lights outside had been emitting this low hum that I hadn’t heard until it was gone.
I probably do not need to tell you about the state and availability of my flashlights. I have never met anyone who could A) find a flashlight in the place they thought it was supposed to be or B) get the flashlight to work once they happened upon it at random.
Back in the day, I guess you lit a match when faced with this dilemma. I turned on my cell phone, and the dim light of Verizon guided me through my travels. Eventually, I found my camping flashlight. You know the kind: shines to the moon, appears to have a large enough battery to work right up until the day global warming or an asteroid or whatever does us all in for good.
It doesn’t work.
Finally, I find a random flashlight in a closet that I long ago had ceased to find any use for. Now I know it is the place where flashlights go to hide.
If you haven’t packed for a trip via a narrow beam of light, you never should. When you get to that point where you’re sure you’ve forgotten something, all you can do is whirl hopelessly in a circle hoping that your light will shine upon whatever it is you need.
Anyway, the drive to Indianapolis was dark and lonely and uneventful. Which gave me the peace of mind to formulate this thought about why the discourse here has been so cantankerous:
You’re all anxious. Nervous. A bit on edge.
This whole NCAA hearing has you a little upset. You know something will happen, but you also know you won’t find out much about what it is because the session is closed. You think you have a good idea of the particulars of the case, and you might have formulated an opinion on how things will or at least should turn out for those involved.
But, ultimately, you don’t know.
Hopefully, we can offer some insight into the happenings in Seattle. We’ll have coverage that rehashes how we got here and predicts where this might go. Check HoosiersHq.com and here for updates as I try to report from Seattle.
Hope you’ll be here. If you’ve got questions, ask them. I’ll get to them as quickly as I can.
And, finally, be kind with each other.
Or at least civil.
OK. I’ll settle for no bad language.
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