The Day of the Dog and Blow up the Big East

Sorry I haven’t written in a while.  I was working on one story or another and I kept getting distracted by the great games, surprising developments in the Heisman race, coaches getting fired, and the other wonderful things that keep this game so interesting.  Last weekend, the family and I went to Des Moines for the weekend, staying in a hotel, indulging on Iowa’s version of foodie heaven (Gateway Market in downtown Des Moines), and filling the car with Christmas gifts.  While there, I enjoyed the Court Street District bars while watching USC – UCLA.  You need not wonder if I enjoyed the 50 – 0 thrashing of our rivals; it was simply glorious.  And it served to highlight the ridiculous farce that will be the Pac-12 championship Friday between the mighty Ducks and the beaten down Bruins led by a lame-duck coach (pun intended). 

I had been working on several stories, so I will present two here and the third later on if we ever get a slow news cycle (not likely this year!)

Day of the Dog

Let Hercules himself do what he may, The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.

[1600-1 Shakespeare Hamlet v. i. 286]

You all know the story by now, but it's worth repeating: Saturday the 19th was one of the greatest days in underdog history.  Sure, it is possible that four top- 10 teams have lost in the same day before, but never with all of them losing to double-digit underdogs. 

The BCS carnage began Friday night with the greatest upset in Iowa State history.  The Cyclones have had some big wins in their long and not-very-storied history of pathetic football.  They upset Texas last year, bit Nebraska the year before that, and knock off in-state rivals Iowa about every 3 years or so.  OSU went into the game with their ticket all but punched for the Big 12 championship at home in 2 weeks.  A win over Oklahoma and they get to play for the national title.  All they had to do was survive a pesky 27 point underdog. 

Oops. 

I was working in the ED at the time, and the game was on in every patient room I visited. I had patients even wait for the play to be over before their answered my question, "How bad is your pain?"  We knew the game ended when a cheer erupted from the waiting room.  Kinda bizarre when you think about it.

A somewhat overlooked top 10 loss occurred Saturday afternoon when Clemson got hammered by NC State.  Clemson had clinched their ACC division and had no chance at the BCS Championship, so the game was relatively meaningless.  But that's no reason to roll over and play dead!

Things really got interesting Saturday night when ABC offered regional coverage of Oklahoma-Baylor and USC-Oregon.  Being in a state with a Big 12 team (the aforementioned Cyclones) we were saddled with the OU-Baylor game.  Fortunately, ESPN3 is the greatest invention since wireless internet, and I was able to watch both simultaneously. 

My wife fell asleep as we watched the game, me getting more and more excited as the night wore on and the Trojans didn't collapse.  I shook her awake after the missed field goal, giddy with the upset.  Still smarting from the beating that the Ducks handed her Stanford Cardinal, she was almost as happy as I was.  We celebrated the win, not even noticing how Baylor held off Oklahoma for the third major upset in 24 hours.

Blow Up the Big East

As you may have noticed, I have not been commenting in any detail on the rash of conference realignment this year.  I was in favor of the development of the 4 16-team super conferences because it would directly lead to a playoff system.  The money flowing into those conferences would help the college presidents they don’t need the bowls or the NCAA and they could put together a blockbuster 4 team playoff completely on their own, keeping all the money.  Interestingly, the legal principle for this lies in a lawsuit brought by Universities of Oklahoma and Georgia against the NCAA in 1984 (NCAA v. Board of Regents of the University of Oklahoma, 468 U.S. 85 (1984).  The US Supreme Court declared the NCAA to be in violation of the Sherman Anti-Trust Act and sided with OU and UGA that they could pursue television contracts on their own behalf, free of limitations from the NCAA (the lawsuit specifically was in regards to a association of colleges known as the CFA).  Not surprisingly, Notre Dame was a key proponent of the case and went on to model the first school to have an exclusive television contract.  A model envied and built upon by Texas (UT) in their development of the Longhorn Network.

Here’s where conference realignment is directly related. 

For the duration of the Big 12’s existence, UT has irritated its conference colleagues by not sharing revenue.  In that league, the rule had been that the teams earn money based on their TV appearances.  Since Texas was always on, they got the most.  And with the advent of the Longhorn network, they stood to profit solo on the backs of their Big 12 teammates.  The Big 10, however, shares all revenue from both bowls and TV, including the added revenue from their Big 10 Network.  Nebraska, frustrated with the “eat what you kill” attitude of the Big 12, jumped to the Big 10 the moment they had the chance.  As we saw this year, frustration over the Longhorn Network claimed two more victims, Texas A&M and Missouri. 

As the Big 12 started to disintegrate, Oklahoma looked to the Pac-12 for salvation, saying they’ve reconsidered the offer they turned down in 2010.  They were ready to bring Texas along to sweeten the deal.  (Conquest Chronicles, a sweet USC fan blog, has some good sources on this, http://www.conquestchronicles.com/2011/9/22/2443356/conference-realignment-closing-the-book#storyjump)  But this September, the Pac- 12 said no.  The conference presidents are happy with the current structure of the league and its culture is geared towards slow, careful growth.  More importantly, the Pac-12 has revenue sharing like the Big-10 and the Longhorn Network was a non-starter (note- the Pac-10 always shared bowl revenue but TV profits were weighted towards the LA schools.  USC and UCLA gave these up when expanding to the Pac-12).  As a result, UT and OU were disinvited and left to find their own way to save the Big 12. 

Enter the Big East. 

Affectionately known as the Big Least, this glorious conglomeration of the best basketball schools in the country somehow have lobbied, cajoled, and bribed their way into keeping an automatic BCS bid despite their smaller membership and lack of on-the-field success.  Sure, occasional runs by Cincinnati or Louisville have kept the league competitive, but ever since the defection of Miami, Virginia Tech, and Boston College to the ACC in 2004, the Big Least has limped along as the playground for West Virginia and Pitt.  The extra efforts to keep this league in the BCS is evidenced by the NCAA proclaiming last year that TCU’s “data will transfer.”  When the TCU agreed last year to leave the Mountain West for the Big East, the years of Horned Frogs wins as MWC members will count in favor of the Big East when determining their eligibility for continued automatic qualifier (AQ) status.  Yeah, you read that right! 

Now the ACC has poached Syracuse and Pitt, and West Virginia and TCU want out.  Although the legal wrangling will need some time to play out, the Big Least is falling apart rapidly as a football conference.  UT and OU, struggling to save their league, saw an opportunity and extended invites to West Virginia and TCU.  The key concession UT had to make?  Yep, you guessed it; all members (including UT!) agreed to revenue sharing!  Now it looks like Louisville wants to get in to the Big 12 party as well. 

The Big East is dead.  Don’t kid yourself- their attempts to add Boise State (In the east? Really?  Really?), Air Force (again, east?), SMU, Houston, and Central Florida are simply desperate, poorly planned attempts to rearrange the deck chairs.  I look forward to the fall of 2012 when this Big East mess is more settled.  I am certain they will lose their AQ status (for the second year in a row, the Big East league champ is unranked!), but another possibility that has been floated is to eliminate the AQ status altogether.  This makes sense, as it permits the East Coast hooligans propping up the Big Least charade to save face and move into a system where the larger 12 and 14 team conferences can get more than 2 teams each in the BCS.

Better yet, get rid of the BCS altogether!   Bring on the super conferences and the playoff.  I’m ready and so is the rest of college football!

Fight On,

Hans

Distractions

I went to Ann Arbor this weekend to hang out with GoBlue! and Keebz to sample the fine football culture that is the University of Michigan.  I intended this blog entry to be an amusing travelogue of the bars and restaurants of Ann Arbor, expecting to write of story of stumbling home through a haze of bratwurst, marzen, and whiskey. 

Well, actually, that’s pretty much exactly what happened.   After watching the start to the college basketball season on TV at GoBlue’s house, we sipped whiskey flights at my favorite bar, Ashley's.  From there, we were drowned by an enormous 9-piece beer flight at the Jolly Pumpkin Tavern and Brewery.   Steve also introduced me to Conner's, an Irish pub with murals of James Joyce (I am happy to report that they serve Guinness properly with the appropriate waiting time).  Finally, I finished long after midnight at the Heidelburg, a German pub with an arched roof rathskeller straight out of the Beatles' Hamburg day (Marzen.  Fantastic.  No idea what brewery.  Who cares at that point?)

It was a great weekend and I wish I could write of only that.  But the tragic and stunning developments in State College have dominated the psyche and the headlines of college football, and I am obligated to comment. 

Let me start with the few elements that are not in dispute.  The real victims here are the many children who have had their psychology permanently disturbed and have been robbed of joy of childhood.  Gerry Sandusky is a very ill, evil man who does not deserve any pity.   Athletic Director Tim Curley and Senior VP for Finance and Business Gary Schultz had ample opportunity and legal duty to notify the police and have an investigation initiated in 2002 when then graduate assistant coach Mike McQueary witnessed sexual abuse occurring in the locker room shower. 

Other parts of this story are more confusing and open to interpretation.  Events unfolded quickly this week.  On Wednesday, the board of Trustees terminated the employment of University President Graham Spanier and Head Coach Joe Paterno.  A few members of the State College community reacted. ….… poorly.  The question that reasonable to ask is: should Spanier have been fired?  Should Paterno be allowed to finish this season and then retire?  After reading the indictment, reflecting on mandatory reporter laws, and considering the entire context of Sandusky's behavior, I believe firing Spanier and Paterno is justified and essential. 

I do not condone, but I understand the emotional reaction of the students to Paterno's firing.  In a way, the Nittany Lion family is going through the Kubler-Ross stages of grief.  The first stage is Denial ("Sandusky is a slime!  JoPa did what was required of him- he turned it over to his superiors").  Then, Anger: the riots of Wednesday night.  Next, bargaining ("JoPa needs to leave, if he retires after the end of the football season, that would be ok").  Before one can reach Acceptance, one goes through Depression.  That is what we saw this weekend: the candlelight vigil, prayers and flowers outside the Paterno home, and a prayer at midfield amid a stadium in tears.  Playing the game against Nebraska, despite the loss, is a solid start to the healing process. 

How did we get to this point?  The indictment (http://www.crewof42.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Sandusky-indictment.pdf) details the facts of the case as discovered by Pennsylvania Grand Jury.  But they are not laid out chronologically.  Look at the sequence of events again is this timeline constructed by the New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2011/11/11/sports/ncaafootball/sandusky.html).  You'll notice that the 2002 incident witnessed by McQueary is in the middle of the sequence; there were many episodes prior to that.   The question to ask here is: what did Joe Paterno know about Sandusky and when did he know it? 

On New Year's Day in 1998, Sandusky brought a boy to the Outback Bowl with the team (even listing him as a family member for the travel documents!).  Later that year, he takes the boy into the locker room and showers with him, making advances.  The boy's mom asks about the wet hair when he gets home and he tells her what Sandusky did.  She called the police, wore a wire when confronting Sandusky, and an investigation commenced.  Remarkably, the Centre County District Attorney Ray Gricar chose not to prosecute.  We can all speculate on how he made this decision (especially weird because Gricar disappeared in 2005 and is presumed dead!), but one thing is clear: Joe Paterno was aware that lurid accusations were made against his then-Defensive Coordinator. 

The following year, Paterno told Sandusky that he would not become Head Coach.  It is reasonable to surmise that Sandusky's odd behavior was at least a factor in this decision.  Sandusky announced he would retire at the end of the 1999 season, which culminated in the Alamo Bowl in San Antonio, Texas.  Sandusky also brought a boy to that game, again listing him as a family member.  We now know that Sandusky sexually assaulted this boy repeatedly in the team hotel in San Antonio.  Although no one could have known of this activity in the room, it would have been obvious to all that Sandusky had brought along another young boy.  Paterno would have seen this and must have known about the investigation the year before.

Sick.  Wrong.  Creepy.  Yes, all three

I detailed those allegations from the indictment to provide the proper context for the 2002 incident.  (I'm skipping the 2000 incident witnessed by the janitor as this was never reported and the boy was never identified).  In this case, McQueary witnesses Sandusky raping a boy in the shower (described as "rhythmic slapping sounds").  He informs Paterno what he saw and Paterno in turn informs his superior (the AD and Senior VP for Finance and Business).

At this point Paterno has completed his legal duty.  As an educator (coach or teacher), he is a "mandatory reporter"; he is obligated to report any suspicion of child abuse or neglect (as a health care provider, I am also a mandatory reporter, but more on that in a moment).  Once he has made his report to his superior, under Pennsylvania law, he is done.  Here’s the explanation: http://news.yahoo.com/psu-scandal-stirs-debate-over-abuse-reporting-laws-210836127.html.  Under Iowa law, by comparison, have to ensure that a report is made to child protective services, which in my case is the Department of Health Services (DHS), but I don't have to make that report myself).  As we all know now, Curley and Schultz chose to cover up the allegations and did not make a police report (Dicks.  Creeps.  Assholes.  Yes, all three.  But we covered that already).  So the big question is: should Paterno have noticed that the police were not informed and should he have ensured that to happen?

Yes and no.

A little background here- I have made similar reports before.  Fortunately, child sexual abuse is relatively rare and I have only been involved in a few cases.  These situations are turned over to a specially trained sexual response team and they take it from there.  Once I call this team, I have minimal interaction or knowledge of the case.  If the police or out other authority chose not to prosecute, I wouldn’t even be aware of it.  Much more commonly, I see cases of suspected physical abuse or child neglect.  These happen more often than you want to believe.  In these cases, we admit the child to the hospital (a kind of protective custody) and I direct the Social Workers to make a report to DHS.  After that, I usually get very little feedback.  If DHS determines the child’s environment is safe, I can’t really do anything about it.  My point here is that, as Joe Paterno did in 2002, I would report the case and leave it to others.

Does this mean that JoPa did all he could do?  Of course not.  And he should have done more.  He knew full well of the allegations in 1998.  He had reason to be uncomfortable with Sandusky’s work with teenage boys.  And now he was told of a witnessed sexual assault.  He knows full well that the police were not notified by Curley and Schultz.  And he should have said or done something about it. 

Not yet convinced?  Ok, I hear you. I was still unsure at this point.  So I went to discuss the case with my Social Worker team in the ER.  We reviewed the mandatory reporter law and I described my experience with not doing anything more if DHS drops the case.  I described my ambivalence about JoPa’s actions, and then my colleague made a great point.  She said, “He knew all this and yet he still allowed Sandusky to come to their sports camps.”  Sandusky met his final victims through his Second Mile charity and in high school football practices.  It is tragic enough that Sandusky abused all those boys in 2002 and before, but then to have access to more is simply unconscionable.

Therefore, Paterno needed to be fired.  Its very sad that the legendary career ended this way, but it had to end (and only weeks ago I was cheering the record breaking win!). 

And what about President Spanier?  That’s easy.  He was Schultz’s boss.  He’s responsible for Senior VP’s actions.  You’re done.  There’s the door.

Saturday began the healing.

Chanting “We Are Penn State” before at the game must have felt so good.  A week of shock and horror needed a moment of holding hands and reaffirming that you are part of a larger community.  That you are so much more than one twisted child molester.  That after a prayer at midfield, you are ready to heal and accept the love of nation that is just as shocked as you are.  Let’s get back to football and autumn afternoons and bratwurst and game day pancakes and underdogs and upsets and marching bands and all that is good in this world.

Today we are all Penn State.

Fight on, on, on, on, on,

Hans

Brewery Tour

Only 28 miles away but in an entirely different world.

I drove from Denver to Boulder for the USC game Friday night.  Nearing my destination, I came over a ridge and suddenly I could see all of Boulder below me in its shimmering glory.  The entire mood of the world changed when I came into that view.  I had struggled through maddening traffic in the ugly sprawl of apartment buildings and big box stores in Denver.  Now, the traffic fell away, the setting sun reflected off the newly fallen snows on the Rockies rising above, and the urban sprawl shifted to fields and pastures.  The trees were mostly bare with occasional late autumn leaves, even adorned with a falcons sitting on their branches.    

I checked into the hotel, a seedy motel just off the interstate.  It was one of those places that is really cheap but tries to look classy by adding fake, plastic stained glass and wood paneling that is crumbling and dating from the mid-60's.  I quickly put my stuff away and got on the bike path to the campus.  I wasn't here for the hotel; I had come for something much more important: beer. . . er . . . uh . . . I mean football!

I walked through campus to the stadium with a couple of other alums.  The campus is beautiful; a meandering collection of sandstone colored buildings around serene, well-kept quads.  It must be absolutely amazing in the Springtime- the occasional brooks would be filled with snowmelt, wildflowers would mingle among the evergreens, and the occasional afternoon thunderstorm would dance along the towering Rocky Mountains above the town.   At the time we visited, Boulder was just recovering from its first winter storm of the season; puddles and mud everywhere, partially melted snow, and the brown leaves were mostly shaken from the trees.  But it was easy to see the beauty lying within.

One striking feature of Boulder and the Colorado University (CU) culture is their sometimes obsessive dedication to environmentalism.  It took a little getting used to, but the many steps them have taken towards sustainability is big part of why Boulder is consistently rated at the top of most livable city and most healthy city indexes.   We walked on a bike path towards the stadium because it happened to run directly from the hotel to our destination.   But as slack-jawed tourists gazing at the campus and the tailgating scene, we forgot that these paths are efficient thoroughfares to encourage bike riding for commuters.  The local bikers were obviously inconvenienced by me consistently forgetting where I was and having to jump out of their way as they plied their road.  I thank them for being very cool about it and not yelling at me.  The campus architects tried to account for dumb people like me and designated lanes for bikes and for pedestrians. (PICTURE)  I almost got run over twice taking the picture, because I was standing in the bike lane part.  < puts fingers in the shape of an L to his forehead > 

The Buffaloes made great hosts; very welcoming.  I would put them on par with Arkansas and Notre Dame as some of the friendliest schools to visiting teams.  (not quite the level of Nebraska, of course.  Nothing can ever match Husker Hospitality!).  This is a good thing, because I was expecting to be sitting in the CU alumni section.

That's because I had made this trip without having a ticket for the game.

Allow me to explain for a minute my approach to the art of scalping a ticket.  I have gotten into some amazing games without a ticket ahead of time.  My greatest coup had to be the 1997 USC-Notre Dame game.  I passed on the $200 offers from the pros on the street and eventually landed a $40 deal from a Domer fan heading into the stadium.  It turned out to be a field pass!  It's fairly easy to get into any non-championship game when one is alone.  Its also not too hard for pairs.  Any more than that and you can't expect to sit together.  Each stadium has an area where the scalpers tend to gather.  It is never adjacent to the stadium gates, and you can expect it to be relatively free of police presence.  It is best to seek out the common approach to the stadium from the major street, not the alleys and quads used by students.  Don’t buy from students.  At CU, I walked along a driveway from the largest parking lot to the stadium.  Hold your hand with fingers indicating the number of tickets you wish to purchase- above your head is best.  If you have tickets to sell, hold the tickets in the same way.  You will be approached with offers.  A few certainties here: the salesman will always say, "these are great seats" (they wont be).  They will always start high and will be ready to haggle.  Don’t take the first offer.  Most importantly, know what the market value of the scalped tickets are before you go to the game.  Check StubHub.com and see what the prices are (yes, you could just buy them from Stub Hub, but where's the fun in that?).  In this case, the value was not great because CU was doing so poorly; I estimated $60 would be a reasonable value to pay.  Also, the price will go down the closer to kickoff (see Notre Dame field passes above).  On Friday, I got lucky and found a seller at my pre-established price almost immediately (after the first deal fell through, see rule above).  I never expect scalped tickets to be any good, but I karma was shining on me again; they turned out to be 35 yard line, halfway up.  Very cool.

I entered the stadium early, eager to see CU's famous mascot Ralphie the buffalo   It's a shame the game was at night, because the view of the mountains surrounding the town must be amazing during the day.  The Buffs are happy to embrace their mountain home; they proudly display the altitude of Folsom field on the scoreboard (5360 ft).  I suppose it is a not-so-subtle reminder to the visiting team that they will feel more winded sooner and serves to intimidate them into keeping the high altitude in mind. 

I found my seats, coincidentally situated next to a couple from Iowa!  They are from Davenport but their daughter attends CU.  We swapped Iowa winter stories and smiled amusingly while Southern Californians shivered and huddled in the 40 degree weather (really, folks- it was dry and no wind.  Hardly a winter night by any means!  These Trojans need to pack on some extra fat like we Iowans do to get through the cold!).  The folks from Colorado, used to enjoying cocoa on the slopes of their many ski resorts, enjoyed frequent visits to stands from the hot cocoa vendors.  These guys were awesome- they carried trays of dozens of cups of cocoa along with a can of whipped cream ready to top off each purchase with a fresh dollop of milky goodness. 

Next up was the much anticipated run of Ralphie the Buffalo.  As a Trojan, it’s hard to admit that there could be a better live mascot than Traveler, the elegant and spirited white Arabian horse that celebrates every USC touchdown with a march down the sidelines to “Conquest”.  But having a half-ton buffalo lead your team onto the field chained to 5 sprinting underclassmen is a very dramatic sight.  On this night, she (yes, Ralphie is a girl buffalo, a boy buffalo would be just too big) got so excited she broke free of her handlers and made the last half of her run unaided, scattering cowboy-hat-clad boys across the field.  She knew the routine well and headed straight into her waiting trailer; she was obviously content to put on her show, get the crowd fired up, and head for home.  She didn’t need any wranglers trying to cramp her style!  The reaction from the crowd was unanimous- we loved it!  I can best describe the feeling as watching an ancient Roman gladiatorial game and rooting for the lion!

The game was effectively over in the 2nd quarter.  I give the Buffs plenty of credit for trying, but their defensive backs are horribly undersized.  Matt Barkley lit up the scoreboard by throwing to Robert Wood and Marquise Lee all night long; the Buffs didn’t have an answer for their speed or height.  By the end of the game, Barkley had set a new school record with 6 TD passes in a game.  Don’t look now, but Barkley has more yards and TD’s than Andrew Luck and he is close to passing the #2 QB in the nation, Kellen Moore (Case Keenum of Houston is #1).

As the game winded down, I grew increasingly thirsty.  I headed out on a quest for a fine handcrafted beer made with local Rocky Mountain Spring water (no, not Coors).  Enter “Brewery” and “Boulder” into Google maps and you get no less than 9 entries in the general downtown area. My plan was to try a flight at each, which soon proved to be an impossible task.  But a selective sample was reasonable.  I started with Walnut Brewery, an orderly, well appointed pub with lots of room.  Their Irish Red was good but overall unexciting,  Their Nut Brown was fairly standard.  I learned later that Walnut was recently purchased and is now operated by Gordon-Bierch.  Like you might expect from a commercial chain operation, the service was efficient and the décor inviting, but the beers lacked that dramatic, homey, individualized taste I was seeking.

Next up was BJ’s Brew House.  This was exactly what I had in mind.  I sat at the end of the long bar, set up in front of a dozen small beer tanks, and asked for a flight of their beer choices.  The bartender was friendly and knowledgable, and quickly served me a flight of 10 flavors complete with tasting notes.  The piranha red and the seasonal Pumpkin were both out of this world.  Delicious, smooth, unique.  A real joy to drink.  By the end of the flight, I was starting to get a little winded- the altitude was getting to me (or I had just drank 40 oz of beer in a few minutes, I not sure which).  Knowing that I was nearing the end of my rope, I resigned myself to one last stop.  With so many left on my list I asked the bartender for a recommendation.  He directed me to the Mountain Sun Pub and Brewery. 

The Mountain Sun is a quaint, tiny, corner bar and restaurant that obviously believes in three things: progressive, pro-environmental politics, indulgent takes on organic dishes, and independent unique home brewed beer.  This place was very hippy.  It is also very popular- packed solid at 12:30 am.  I tried the XXX Pale Ale, promising an extra dose of hops and barley.  I got all that an more- it was the kind of ale you eat with a fork.  Impressive and overwhelming.  Here’s the rest of their beer menu: http://www.mountainsunpub.com/beer_menu.pdf . 

The last stop on my beer tour was Illegal Pete’s, a local institution serving the best burritos available at 1 am.  I needed some sustenance to soak up the yeast and barley churning in my stomach.  I inhaled the carnitas burrito is a few swallows.  Food always tastes better when you’re hungry.  And tired.  And drunk. 

The hotel is on the south edge of the campus.  The stadium is in the north end of the campus and downtown is a few blocks to the northwest of the stadium.  So I was a long way from my bed; a challenge normally solved with a simple cab ride.  But the friendly lady on the other end of my call to Yellow Cab enlightened me that there was at least an hour wait for a ride.  Ouch.  Against my better judgment (and really, who would actually have good judgment after an evening of football and three brewpubs), I walked back to the hotel.  I am actually glad I did.  The weather was tolerable, the campus was worth another look, and the stadium gates were wide open, allowing me another stroll through the stands.  I hardly noticed the time and found my hotel soon enough, collapsing into a deep, dreamless sleep to begin the recovery. 

I know this: Boulder makes for a great road trip and I can’t wait to come back.  CU has set the bar high for Utah, whose campus I look forward to visiting in the 2012 season.  Colorado is now officially on the list of schools that is OK for Sophie to attend for college.  CU is a welcome addition to the Pac-12, not just because we need the wins!  The Buffs have a dedicated fan base, a tremendous mascot, and a gorgeous campus, not to mention being in one of the friendliest and most beautiful towns in America.

Fight On,

Hans

The Facebook Diary

First, a confession and update: I did not post a blog entry for the weekend of October 21-23.  It was a big weekend that included a road trip to South Bend, so I intended to write the story.  I got busy, got behind, and did not get it done.  To catch up, I will give the brief version in Haiku:

Open road to South Bend

Father Daughter Bonding Time

Irish pain Trojan glory

Ok, that was lame.

Sophie and I drove to Sawyer, Michigan, a sleepy little community on the eastern edge of Lake Michigan, a mere 45 minutes from South Bend.  We walked on the beach, visited a steam train museum (awesome!) and ate fabulous food.  Saturday night, while Uncle Steve (GoBlue!) went to the game, we, along with Grandad (Mouse), cuddled on the couch at our friend's house to watch USC- Notre Dame.  We were all stunned by the Trojan performance..  Their emotional intensity and play execution was unlike anything we had seen in years.  Where has this team been?  Why can’t we play like that every weekend?   We had so much fun with USC- Notre Dame we didn't get a chance to watch the Michigan State- Wisconsin game and resulting hail-Mary goodness.   USC's success against the Irish left us wondering- could we repeat the magic against Stanford?

For this week's blog, I am trying an experiment.  I posted status updates on Facebook all week, many more than I usually post.  I am using those posts as an outline; here goes. 

Wednesday: I want Floyd back

Floyd of Rosedale is a bronze pig that goes to the winner of the Iowa - Minnesota game.  The prize originated as a live pig that the Governor of Minnesota won from the Governor of Iowa in 1934.  That first pig, Floyd, came from Rosedale farms and was the brother of the pig seen in the movie State Fair.  Iowa lost Floyd to Minnesota last year in a 27-24 debacle in Minneapolis.  Prior to that, Floyd had lived in Iowa City for 8 of the first 9 years of our Iowa existence. 

Thursday: USC plays Stanford this weekend. It's the one day a year my wife actually cares about football. Thanks, Mr Luck.

The big news around the House household was, of course, the USC - Stanford game.  Kristi doesn't care much for football (and I still love her immensely- that just shows how amazing she is!).  But when her alma mater has a chance to embarrass the Trojans on national television, suddenly she "discovers" the game again.  Now that Stanford has found its winning ways, she gets more snippy than usual.  All due to Andrew Luck.  Thanks, buddy.

Early Friday morning: http://www.rumdiarythemovie.com/ It has rum in the title.  I like it already.

I had a late shift Thursday night and, combined with a late shift on Wednesday night and  a day of residency interviews I was effectively in the hospital for 32 straight hours with a short 4 hours of sleep.  Needless to say, I was more than a little zonked as I returned home, sat on the couch, sipped rum, and surfed the net.  I knew this Johnny Depp biopic about Hunter S. Thompson's early days was opening, so I posted a link to its website and trailer.  Johnny Depp + Hunter S Thompson + rum = Hans needs to see this movie before the close of the weekend.

Early Saturday morning: Rum and chocolate: Nice end to a long shift.

Another late shift on Friday, the end of a string of three.  I have a tradition in the ER that when I am on my last of a string of shifts I wear special green scrubs (not unlike the fabled green jerseys of Notre Dame) and buy pizza for the department.  The nurses LOVE seeing me in green scrubs.  When I got home, I was in that usual schizoid blend of exhausted and wired.  I was mentally fatigued from making so many decisions about life threatening conditions, but pumped that I was able to touch so many lives.  I was worn out from standing on my feet for 8 hours but still tremulous from the constant infusion of caffeine and adrenaline that is the ER.  To unwind I often watch mindless TV and sip an adult beverage.  As regular readers of this column may note, I have been on a rum kick of late.  You can blame the Smuggler's Cove in San Francisco for that.  Yes, their drinks are really that good.  I discovered that Pyrat XO from Guiana pairs exceptionally well with milk chocolate and cherries. 

Saturday morning, 9 am: Go Trojans!  Beat the Cardinal!

 After a week of anticipation, the big day was here.  We gathered in the kitchen for game day pancakes and watched ESPN College Game Day from the Coliseum.  The teams were well represented for 7 am on a Saturday in Exposition Park, and the signs were the usual mix of boasting and bitterness.  The "winning" sign according to Game Day's Facebook contest was "Andrew Luck wears Skinny Jeans".  Cute.  But I also liked, "Stanford has Luck. So did the Irish".  But my personal favorite was, "Our 75 are better than your 85" (referring to the upcoming reduction in scholarships).  After I posted this, a friend pointed out (again) that we are not eligible for a bowl game this year.  I loudly replied that tonight IS OUR BOWL GAME!

Saturday afternoon, 5:30 pm: Yard work under blue skies and football all day long. Best Saturday in a while.

I had nothing to do all day but clean the yard and watch football.  It was awesome.  It was a perfect fall day: sunny, high 50's, no wind.  I ran my riding mower and lawn sweeper (new gadget- very cool) to clean all the leaves from the lawn.  Yep, almost no raking for me!  And I dug trenches so Sophie and Kristi could plant bulbs.  We got 90 tulips into the ground and we have another 90 to go plus over 100 daffodils.  Every hour or so I took a break and peeked in on Oklahoma State - Baylor (dang- I really thought the Generals were due in that one!), Oklahoma - Kansas State, Illinois - Penn State, and Iowa - Minnesota.

Saturday evening, 6:00 pm: I miss Floyd. And congrats to JoPa- officially the greatest ever

The afternoon games ended, with heartbreak for Hawkeyes and elation for Lions.  Iowa led for most of the game with Minnesota, and I was just starting to imagine how great it will look when Vandenburg and McNutt carry the bronze pig off the field and back home where he belongs.  But Iowa was out-coached, something that almost never happens to Kirk Ferentz.  The Gopher's execution of an onside kick in the middle of the 4th quarter was the best I have ever seen.  Floyd must wait another year, stuck in the frozen north.  At the same time, JoPa was achieving yet another pinnacle in his remarkable career.  In a cold, snowy, figurative and literal white out in happy valley, Penn State battled Illinois to a standstill.  In the waning minutes, the Lions scored their only touchdown of the game and took the lead.  With no time on the clock, Illinois attempted the tying field goal and hit the upright.  State College erupted to celebrate number 409: the four hundred ninth win of JoPa's career, the most of any division 1 coach.  Ever.  To paraphrase Bob Miller, by passing Eddie Robinson, JoPa "the Great One is now the greatest of them all." (consider yourself a true LA Kings fan if you understood that one.  Fun Fact: Bob Miller graduated from the University of Iowa).  By the way, if you are somehow not impressed with 409 wins, think of them this way: to get that total, a coach only has to win 10 games a season for 41 years . . . 10 wins, EVERY season, 41 years.  Wow.

Saturday evening, 7:00 pm: USC - Stanford kickoff! Game time menu: pan seared scallops in fig sauce and fig - Gorgonzola tart!

Kristi is a very good cook.  I am a decent cook.  When we cook together, magical things tend to happen.  On this night, Kristi brought home fresh figs.  Readers on the coast may scoff at us hicks on prairie, but fresh figs are a rare treat here.  They deserve to be honored by an appropriate meal.  Our usual approach is a fig tart, made by rolling out dough (from Trader Joe's of course), topping with grilled onions, trimmed and halved figs, gorgonzola cheese, and fresh rosemary (you can also drizzle with honey if desired).  It is heavenly.  Kristi took the leftover figs, dug some frozen scallops out of the freezer, and created an amazing appetizer.  She pan seared the scallops in oil, then added wine, butter, and figs to pan afterwards.  We poured this fig sauce over the scallops and viola- a two course masterpiece.  It paired perfectly with a 2009 Frank Family Pinot Noir, a delightful sweet red with hints of brown sugar, smoke, and fig. 

Saturday night, 10:00 pm: Pick 6 on Luck late in 4th! ALL RIGHT NOW!

The Stanford - USC game had been raging for 3 hours.  On an electric night in Los Angeles, I have only heard the coliseum crowd this loud two times before: in breaking the streak against Notre Dame in 1996 and de-facto Pac-10 championship against Cal in 2004.  With three minutes remaining in the game and the score tied, Stanford lined up to start their drive to take the lead.  Luck was promptly picked off by Nickell Robey who returned it 20 yards for the go ahead score.  USC was up by 7, the stadium was in pandemonium, and Stanford's will was broken.

Or so I thought. 

Luck went to the sideline, tapped himself with his hand, saying "My bad", and went out onto the field to lead the final drive to tie the game and win it in overtime.  As far as I am concerned, after that clutch performance in bouncing back from adversity, Luck has the Heisman locked up.

Interesting side note here: the Stanford fight song, played by the infamously irreverent Stanford band, is "All Right Now" by Free.  Ironically, the USC Trojan Marching Band (affectionately known as the Greatest Marching Band in the History of the Universe), will play "All Right Now" whenever USC recovers a turnover (ie whenever the opposing team screws up).  Therefore, Free was heard more than a few times Saturday night.  

Unbelievable shoot out between two great quarterbacks. I'm sorry we lost, but that was one of the best games I've seen in years

In the end, this 3 OT thriller was one for the ages.  I would have much preferred that the Trojans had ended on the winning end of things, but this time Luck really was on the Cardinal's side.  It was the kind of game that neither team deserved to lose.  USC could have done a couple more things to win (not make a personal foul on an incomplete pass on 3rd down on Stanford's last drive, actually go down after catching the ball and calling a time out rather than running across the field to get out of bounds, etc), but in the end the final score is what matters.  I have tried to console myself by reiterating what an amazing game it was, but it is still a bitter pill to swallow.  Especially when your wife is only too happy to rub it in.  Ironically, it was the best USC game since the 2005 Rose Bowl / BCS championship against Texas.  Yeah- we lost that classic too.  The last "greatest game in history" that we actually won?  That would be the Bush Push.  Hear that Domers?

After the emotional roller coaster I endured Saturday night, I needed to indulge in cinematic fantasy.  Cue The Rum Diary, which I went to see Sunday night.  It was not a great movie, but it was certainly entertaining.  It was fun, well acted by Depp, and was EXACTLY what I wanted to see.  It tells the story of a young writer arriving to a new job in a foreign place where he falls in love with a woman and in love with his new locale.  And there was lots of rum drinking.  The story is a fictionalized autobiography of Hunter S. Thompson's first job in journalism.  The facts are sketchy (anything dealing with Thompson are light on fact!), but we do know that in 1960 Thompson moved from New York to San Juan, Puerto Rico to join a sports periodical that folded soon after his arrival (just like in the movie).

Thompson created the genre known as Gonzo journalism, roughly defined as "wildly" subjective first person where the author immerses themselves into the story- becoming part of the action and driving the choices of the characters.  Essentially, this is what "proper" journalism tells you never to do- become the story you are covering.  The blurring between memoir, fiction, and journalism is an interesting corundum; something I have struggled with myself in this very column.  This made me wonder: do I engage in "Gonzo journalism"?  I have a few things in common with Thompson: I got my start in sports writing and I enjoy writing subjective first person accounts of my travels.  On the other hand, I hardly consider Thompson to be a role model for me.  I would love to be able to write so eloquently, but I am not interested in the abundant chemical stimulation he was known for.  He was able to discover philosophical truths through the haze of inebriation.  I just write to amuse my readers and record my journeys.    

But the story of the Rum Diary did touch me in a very personal way.  Ever since I started listening to Jimmy Buffet music I have embraced a secret fantasy to drop out of life, move to the Caribbean, work in an urgent care every day and drink rum every night.  One of my colleagues in Emergency Medicine here at Iowa runs a medical mission in Haiti.  Although many of our faculty, nurses, residents, and medical students have taken part, I have not yet gone.  The biggest reason I haven't gone there is that I am afraid.  I'm afraid I would love it too much and not want to come back.  I stay stateside for now and keep raising Sophie.  When she's off to college maybe I'll finally surrender to the "Buffet fantasy" . . .

When I got home from the movie I announced to Kristi that I would like to drop out of medicine and become a writer, and she could keep working to support me.  

She was not amused and told me to go to bed.  A cold splash of reality brought be back to Earth, like a fumble in the end zone in triple OT.

Fight On,

Hans