No Peace for Hoosiers

In the not too distant past, Indiana used to be known for its basketball.  Small town high school Milan won the state championship against all the big schools back in 1954, which was the inspiration of the hit movie Hoosiers.

My mother's hometown of two thousand was a force to be reckoned with back in the mid to late 70's when her cousin  coach took the team to the state finals twice, once winning runner up.  He coached his team to the finals against the state's largest schools.  The good people of Loogootee, Indiana adore the move Hoosiers since they can relate to the David and Goliath theme.

Fans were fanatical.  Including my mother who would nearly beat us kids to death in her excitement when the games would be on the radio. 

This small town high school basketball coach continues to hold the title of the most winningest high school basketball coach in the state.  His game was called, "Stall Ball" or Butcher Ball. 

Time stopped when Indiana's high school basketball sectionals began and it only started again once a State Champion was crowned.

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The Indiana Pacers spent several years at the top of their game when Reggie Miller played shooting guard.  He fueled the passions of this basketball crazed state bringing the Pacers front and center of the national spotlight.

His 57 point game still stands today in the Pacer records, but that paled in comparison to 1995, when during the last 8.9 seconds of game 1 of the Eastern Conference Semifinals against the Knicks, he scored a jaw dropping EIGHT points.  That was 8 points in 8.9 SECONDS, not minutes.  He single-handedly won the game to the dismay of Miller's long time public enemy, Spike Lee.

Miller taunting director Spike Lee during a game in which Miller was forcing the NY Knicks to choke.

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But then basketball changed.  And so did Indiana's obsession.

It started back in the 1997-98 season, when it was decided that it wasn't fair that smaller schools have to battle against the odds to win a championship.  So high school basketball was divided into classes.

The term "Class Basketball" is largely uttered with a sneer on one's face here.  Instead of generating a feeling of equality, it's better known for taking the hysteria out of Hoosier Hysteria. 

The state championship is, for the most part a ho-hum event.  The exception was this year when my mother's home town FINALLY snatched up a win when they were barely on the radar screen for rankings.  But it leaves one wondering if they could have also "gone all the way" and beaten the other classes.

Loogootee Gettin Jiggy with it, a photo by Gsanvin on Flickr.

This picture captured several of my family members at this year's state championship when Loogootee won it's first state championships.  This give me hope the spark isn't dead yet.

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The next death knell came with the Pacer's reputation.  Indiana's small town, home town hero, Larry Bird returned to his native Hoosier roots becoming the Pacer's coach for three years and now as it's president.  Although he led to the team to a franchise win record, he is better known locally for allowing the reputation of the players to deterioriate.

The last several years the Pacers have become VERY well known locally for their shooting skills.

Not their basketball shooting skills, but their shoot OUTS at the local strip clubs.  It seemed that nearly every week there was some story about the Pacers being involved in late night shoot outs in the strip clubs parking lots.

In 2004, a HUGE brawl erupted during a game between the Pacers and the Detroit Pistons fans.  Three Indiana Pacers entered the stands and began a dangerous altercation.  The three were immediately suspended.  The next day, the NBA suspended Forward Ron Artest for the remaining season, 86 games.  An NBA record he continues to hold this day.

While the Pacers developed their reputation of thugs, we watched Peyton Manning, Tony Dungy turn Indiana's hysteria to football.

The next season Artest asked for a transfer from the Pacers. 

The people of Indiana were more than happy to be rid of him.  But the bad behavior of the Pacer players didn't stop. 

Then retired Reggie Miller took Bird to task during an interview, shaming him that he allowed his players enough free time that they could manage to spend half their nights at strip clubs and bar room brawls.

It will take years to repair the damage exacted upon Hoosier Hysteria.

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Which (FINALLY) leads me to the whole point of this post.

Three days ago Metta World Peace, the Laker's Forward delivered an unbelievably nasty elbow to the head of Oklahoma's James Harden, leaving him with a concussion.

  

Yesterday the NBA announced Metta World Peace would be suspended seven games.

Seven games. 

Mr. Metta World Peace is well known here in this unenthusiastic basketball state.  He is none other than the former Pacer Ron Artest.  I'm shaking my head at the sick irony of his new legally changed name.

As long as the professional sports teams condone this type of behavior they can no longer expect to get throngs of fans rushing the doors to get to their precious season tickets. 

There's a reason our state convicted and imprisoned boxer Mike Tyson when he raped a young girl in his hotel room in downtown Indianapolis

We don't tolerate this behavior. 

I'm sick of hearing stories of the thugs in the professional world of basketball.

Hey NBA!!! Are you LISTENING????

This is a Public Service Announcement

Found this out over at Z's and then checked it out and discovered that there are several articles about the issue including PC World, CNET and other various sources.  I'm very cynical on these things, but all the publications about it convinced me it's true. 

Although it seems the dates may change, there is some type of malware that can affect your ability to access the internet.  It sounds like another internet hoax, but apparently this one is not.

Long story short, you can check your pc with this link.  Green means go.  You're good. 

Not really sure how widespread the issue might be, but better safe than off line.

Yes, I realize this probably really doesn't count as a real post, but I'm still adjusting to thinking all day long at work.  Gotta get my balance back between work and blogging. 

When the Truth Gets Out

Any doubts about who was screaming that night now?

H/T Bloviating Zeppelin

This Week in Indy

No.  Nothing special.

On my 5th week of working back downtown for a new client. 

This morning started off with me waving the parking garage key card at the sensor 5 or 47 times to make the arm go up.  I went in later than I normally do, so I had to park on the 4th floor.  Grabbed my purse and walked down the stairs while finding the key card to the outside office door in my purse.

Use the key card through the access door.  Up in the elevator and use a normal door key in the office door which is kept locked.  While dropping them back in my purse, I keep reminding myself to put them both on a key chain so I don't have to hunt them down. Turn on the computer and realize I left a notebook with some folders in it in my car.

Dang it.

Get the door key and the door keycard back out of my purse and put them and my cell phone in my jacket.

Back through the office door, down the elevator, out the set of double doors.  Since my back and hip are acting up again after the last Nazi-discovered selective nerve shot in my spine, I have to wait for the elevator instead of climbing the four flights.  Get out of the elevator and....

Dammit.

I forgot to get my car keys out of my purse.

Back down the garage stairs, swipe my outside door key card, ride the office elevator up to my floor, use the door key to open, grab my car keys and back out the office door, down the office elevator, push through the outside office doors, walk back to the parking garage and wait for the elevator again. 

Up the elevator, hit the button on the door of my car to unlock, grab my notebook and folders, lock the car and head back down the steps.

Every time I reach the third floor landing I'm reminded of early last week when there were two separate piles of what I want to believe to be something that comes out of a dog's tail end.  But I don't know why a dog would go up three flights of stairs to take a crap.  And it's really unpleasant when I realize that was the same location I happened upon a homeless guy walking back to his wheelchair on that same floor the day before the first pile of excrement appeared.

Well, this is not the place I thought this post would end up.  But there ya go. 

It's been cold here this week.  Well, cold is a relative term.  It's more likely average for this time of year here, but our extremely mild winter, coupled with a warm to very warm February and March and never a huge cold snap has left us feeling like we are in late May. 

The wind has been whipping between the buildings downtown this week.  If I was Sally Fields I could have taken flight.

Yesterday I was not happy with Buca di beppo.  Not only did they remove the fabulous chicken saltimbucco from their lunch menu, the price of getting a lasagna and a side salad for lunch was an arm and a leg.  If they would have just taken a leg, I would have considered giving them my left one if it finally rid me of this nasty hip spasms I've had now for a year.  They probably thought naming their daily special after me would prevent them from losing a customer.  In your dreams Buca.

Yesterday I fired off another nasty email to Safeco.  They insured my friend's SUV under uninsured motorist and their service level would have to go up a dozen levels to reach abysmal.  Late at night when I'm trying to smash their heads in vice clamps in my dreams I like to imagine they spend eternity under the needle of a selective nerve injection by Josef Mengele.

Other than that, I'm loving the new gig.  Back to the good kind of stress.