Author Archives: Kent Sterling

NASCAR Gets It; IndyCar Still Needs Tutoring

by Kent Sterling

NASCAR officials separate the crews of Kevin Harvick and Kyle Busch after Saturday night's race at Darlington. This is called conflict, and that what IndyCar needs right now.

Ashley works in my wife’s office, and she was excited today when I popped in to say hello. “Did you see the NASCAR fight?” she asked. I have – a bunch of times on ESPN and online. It was impossible to miss because sports fans like drama.

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Multiply that by 1,000,000 this morning, and the reason for NASCAR being popular enough for major networks to fight over the rights to show the races is clear, while IndyCar is stuck on the purgatory of the Versus Network.

Last week, Ryan Newman and Juan Pablo Montoya got a little sideways with one another – literally. After Montoya spun Newman, NASCAR put the two drivers in a hauler for a private meeting. What happened in there is anyone’s guess, but afterward Montoya was quoted as saying, “Newman hits like a girl.”

On Saturday night at Darlington, it was Kyle Busch and Kevin Harvick who got into it, and that is what is driving water cooler talk today.

The last time IndyCar generated any talk at all was when Helio Castroneves went nuts and started screaming at race officials behind a shed in the infield of a race that was run last year – I think.

With all the talk today on Sportscenter, my conversations in the dental office and on the phone, no one has mentioned who won the race in Richmond or at Darlington. I still have no idea who won, nor do I care.

IndyCar needs an infusion of drama, and I know IndyCars are too fragile to withstand the kind of “rubbin’ is racin'” behavior that stirs up the NASCAR fans – of which there are millions. But does NASCAR own some proprietary information or patents on the technology that allows for contact that won’t shatter the chassis?

The IndyCar Series put out a request for chassis designs last year, and easily could have made sturdiness part of the criteria. Speeds would have dropped, but people don’t show up to see 232 mph. They show up to see fast and faster, and they want drama.

You don’t need a degree in theatre to know that drama is impossible without conflict. And interest is impossible without drama.

If IndyCar doesn’t embrace the NASCAR model of building fan interest, races will continue to repel viewers at the rate of 299-out-of-300 homes with TVs.

I love the Indianapolis 500. Going to the race is a highlight every year, and I want a resurgence in its popularity in the worst way. Seeing the empty seats every race day is heartbreaking, but until fans have a driver to root for and root against, they have no reason to go to the race other than tradition. Tradition isn’t enough.

More importantly, every year when I talk to friends about coming to Indianapolis for the race, they act like I’m nuts to ask.

Please, for the love of Mauri Rose and Wilbur Shaw, do what’s necessary to turn some of those Monday morning conversations into recaps of open wheel events. Cars flying in circles without context is called traffic.

NCAA Makes It Tougher for Players Like Shelvin Mack to Make Informed Decision About NBA Draft Entry

by Kent Sterling

Unlike John Wall, who knew where he was going, many underclassmen in the NBA Draft have no idea, and that knowledge needed to guess will be much scarcer next year.

Next year, the NCAA will force college players to decide whether they will forgo their remaining eligibility to enter the NBA Draft by the middle of April, and that will make it very difficult for a kid and his family to make the right choice.

Not everyone deciding to leave college for the NBA is John Wall, guaranteed on being selected in the top five of the draft. Wall, who was selected first overall last year, knew he would make millions by leaving Kentucky, but there are others who dream of playing in the NBA, like Butler’s Shelvin Mack, who are projected to go in the latter portion of the first round or in the second.

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The difference is enormous. In the current collective bargaining agreement, the salary structure of first round picks guarantees them three years of cash. Second rounders can be cut without receiving a dime. The difference between being picked 30th (the last pick in the first round), and 31st (the first pick in the second) is huge. #30 is set for life, if he invests well. #31 could be out in the street three months after being picked.

With stakes that high, don’t the schools, coaches, and NCAA owe these kids, who are paid nothing to generate millions in revenue that funds all non-revenue sports as well as the bloated salaries in the big time athletic departments that purport to care for these kids, owe them a little more than an all too swift kick in the ass when they decide to make the jump?

It would be nice for the schools to allow the kids to be evaluated thoroughly to give them the best shot at being right in going all in with their future.

Butler coach Brad Stevens wasn’t thrilled about the current process in an interview Saturday with Chris Hagan and me on 1070 – the Fan (Saturdays 9a-11a), and much less pleased with what the timeline will be next year. He spoke about how it would have been nice for Mack to go through the full regimen of workouts before making his decision.

The deadline this year was yesterday – May 8. Next year, it will coincide with the first day of the late signing period, which will fall roughly one week after the NCAA Championship game. Couple that with the mandate that workouts for NBA teams cannot cause a student to miss a class, and the window gets very skinny for players to ascertain their value to NBA teams.

John Calipari, whom I generally loathe as an example of all that is wrong with college basketball, did something smart this year by hosting a combine for his players who were deciding whether to return or jump to the NBA. I know the reason for doing it had little to do with the welfare of the kids, but serves as a recruiting tool for high school kids who will be lured by the opportunity to have scouts and GMs show up in Lexington during the week between the end of the season and the date the NCAA allows for them to pull out of the draft.

But he did it, and because of that, his players got better feedback, and made a more informed choice. Not every school has enough kids worthy of NBA evaluation to make the trip worthwhile for NBA franchises to invest the time in a trip to campus. Despite what might have been a selfish act, the result was a more informed decision for those kids.

The NBA Draft is an imperfect science to begin with, and now that players won’t be able to receive anywhere near the incomplete feedback Mack has been given this year, it’s a crapshoot at best for those unlike Wall who know they will go early.

And why? So the college coaches can grab up a replacement at the earliest possible moment. “Thanks, Shelvin. Appreciate the effort. Good luck, and goodbye.” That’s not the way Stevens would like it, but it is the rule the NCAA adopted because the NCAA and college basketball coaches (minus those like Stevens, who actually give a damn) have as much interest in the genuine welfare of the players as owners of the thoroughbreds who ran in Saturday’s Kentucky Derby care about the horses.

There is a lot wrong with college athletics that should require the urgent attention of the NCAA, but upon what do they affix their attention? The convenience of those coaches who want to win rather than lead.

The NCAA does some things very right. For schools that don’t generate millions in revenue, the NCAA gets it and serves the kids and schools very well. For those kids forced to use the indentured servitude of big conference college athletics as a minor league by the draconian and self-serving rules of the NBA, the NCAA is a disaster.

Major rules are broken by the minute, and the only real method for the discovery of those violations are for the schools to self-report, and for the media to fund investigations themselves. The players’ images are appropriated and sold, and the kids have no choice but to behave as though they are plebes at a military academy.

There is seemingly no one in the room allowed to ask “what’s best for the kids?” when any decision is made. Entering into an agreement that benefits the kid either by providing money or information is a major violation. And why is that?

Advocacy for student-athletes is strictly prohibited.

Every time I write about the NCAA is a bastion of idiocy and self-centeredness, I am deluged by emails from those who decry my ignorance and naivete in believing it might ever be otherwise.

My complaints are prayers that one day changes that help kids and not coaches might come. St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, needs to pay NCAA president Mark Emmert a visit.

Butler Basketball – Shelvin Mack Leaves for the NBA, and Era of Greatness Likely Goes With Him

by Kent Sterling

With Shelvin Mack leaving for the NBA, the best team in Horizon League history just lost its best remaining player, but it still remains a special program, and that is going to have to be enough for fans.

What they were able to experience the last two seasons was a moment of grace that stretched into an unprecedented two year run in shangri-la at the corner of inspiration and perspiration is gone likely not to return.

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“The Butler Way” will help the players remaining from the outstanding teams that made it to the NCAA Championship game in two consecutive years represent the Bulldogs will dignity and class, but without Matt Howard, Shelvin Mack, Shawn Vanzant, and Zach Hahn, the talent needed to compete with the best the Big East, Big Ten, and ACC will be elsewhere, replaced by very good Horizon League talent like Ronald Nored, Andrew Smith, and Khyle Marshall.

The difference between very good and special lies in talent, and Horizon League programs don’t get kids like Howard, Mack, and Gordon Hayward very often. To get three at once is fortuitous, and for all three to be selfless enough to help build a culture of extreme work ethic, camaraderie, and cooperation is rare enough that they accomplished what no like team ever has.

Butler Basketball is the blueprint for success for all college teams – not just those for a small conference. Daily 6:00 a.m. workouts, tireless and shrewd recruiting, and genuine wholesome goodness has given Butler fans the moral high ground that used to belong to Indiana in these parts. They do it right, and they succeed beyond what anyone else has.

It’s good that other coaches who compromise have to watch Brad Stevens walk into gyms throughout the summer recruiting tour and silently curse him because he’s been able to succeed without cheating, opulent resources, and the constant compromises that sully many of their reputations.

John Calipari has been to one NCAA Championship game in his career – although you won’t find it in the official record book. He is the poster boy for the slick hustlers who find a way around or through the rules to build a winning team. Stevens has been there twice in 13 months. and if he unknowingly made one impermissible phone call, he would throw himself in the White River and scrub himself raw with pumice to cleanse his soul.

But the talent needed to continue that incredible run is gone. It won’t make the accomplishments of future Butler teams any less special, but the two championship game banners are likely going to have to keep themselves company for awhile.

The most meaningful competition for a team is always to reach its potential, and that’s what Butler focuses on each year. The measure of that battle is made during games against teams trying to do the same. Butler has gotten the most out of its players for a long time, and they will continue to.

The Bulldogs won’t lack leadership with Ronald Nored asserting himself to make sure the other Bulldogs play and practice with clear eyes and full hearts, and they will get close to that elusive quarry of potential again. Without those who have gone from the program, that ceiling likely isn’t high enough for a threepeat, but that’s just fine.

Playing hard, winning more often than not, and doing it the right way should be plenty for a fan base that is growing bit by bit.

Stevens has proven himself not to be a money-hungry opportunist, as he has rebuffed countless inquiries and offers from other big-name programs who would love to land the coach who has shown that educators, not businessmen, still make the best coaches.

He’s a rare breed, and Butler isn’t just lucky to have him. It’s very culture helped create him. What was he doing this weekend to celebrate his unprecedented and enormous success? Stevens hosted a basketball event for adults that raised money to fight cancer.

Mack is going to the NBA, and that reduces the talent available to try to win five NCAA Tournament games for the third straight year, but it doesn’t change who Butler is or how it does what it does. That should be enough to bring fans back to Hinkle year after year.

During a year when selfishness and financial greed is clearly the driving force behind professional sports, investing in Butler tickets appears to be the best move for those with some discretionary cash who want a simple and fun night out. The NFL is locking out its players. The NBA will do the same in less than two months. Butler players show up for work before dawn for no pay, and are thrilled for the opportunity.

Who’s to say they can’t make it back to a third Final Four – other than prognosticators like me who look at a Venn Diagram to see how unlikely it is. The odds against a second trip were staggering, and Butler overcame those.

But regardless of next year’s result, knowing that coaches in the Calipari mold have to look with envy at what Stevens has accomplished at the age of 34 with a Horizon League team who competes the right way is plenty enough reward.

Butler fans, be thankful for you have, and comfortable knowing that while you sleep, the Bulldogs are working hard at Hinkle Fieldhouse to explore their potential. While you work, know they are in the classroom participating in college like ordinary students.

It doesn’t happen everywhere. In fact, I’m not sure it happens anywhere else.

Here Are Your Picks for the 2011 Kentucky Derby

by Kent Sterling

Mark Klein does two thing well – that I’m aware of, stand-up comedy and handicapping the Kentucky Derby.

He was kind enough to spend some time with us this morning on “Ahead of the Curve” with Hagan and Sterling. Mark laid it all out, along with some exotic wagers that he hopes make all of us some serious cash today.

Mark Klein’s picks for the Kentucky Derby

For those who don’t listen as quickly as Mark speaks, hear is the breakdown for how to bet $100 on the 137th Run for the Roses:

$10 to win on Soldat
$20 to win on Dialed In
$20 to show on Animal Kingdom
$1 Exacta Box – Soldat, Dialed In, Nehro
$1 Trifecta Box – Soldat, Dialed In, Nehro
$1 Superfecta Box – Soldat, Dialed In, Nehro, Animal Kingdom
$1 Superfecta Box – Soldat, Dialed In, Nehro, Master of Hounds

I’m going to trust Mark that all that action adds up to $100. Good luck. I’m betting exactly as I was told, and I’ll see you at the payout window at the OTB at Illinois and Washington in downtown Indianapolis.

Butler’s Brad Stevens, IndyCar’s Justin Wilson, & Purdue Recruit Ronnie Johnson on “Ahead of the Curve” with Hagan & Sterling Saturday 9a-11a on 1070 – the Fan

by Kent Sterling

To be honest, it’s a hell of a lot easier to book guests for two hours a week than 15, so Chris and I put together a stellar lineup week after week, and this morning’s show is no different.

Brad Stevens will talk about Shelvin Mack’s NBA Draft eligibility and adding former IU guard Michael Lewis to his staff. Stand-up comedian and horse racing expert Mark Klein will giving specific tips for betting $100 to win a hell of a lot more than that on the Kentucky Derby. Ronnie Johnson will call from the Run ‘n’ Slam summer tournament in Fort Wayne to tell us why he chose Purdue. And Justin Wilson will help us get ready for a month of action at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

That’s a full show, but we’ll also hit on why hosting a radio show is a hell of a lot more fun than running the mini-marathon, as well as the Pacers future – Larry Bird and Herb Simon will meet on Tuesday, and out of that meeting the Pacers will more in a very specific direction. Frank Vogel interviewed with the Houston Rockets for their vacant coaching position, so there isn’t any moss going under him.

Click here to follow Kent on Twitter @kentsterling

Click here to follow Chris on Twitter @chri shaganfox59

I’ll also talk about Dick Stockton’s future in broadcasting, as in I hope there isn’t any.

All that and more on “Ahead of the Curve” with Hagan & Sterling this morning just as it is every Saturday on 1070 The Fan. If you are in Indiana, turn the radio dial to 1070 AM, and elsewhere by clicking to listen at http://www.1070thefan.com/listen/

I’m less and less nervous about each show, and more and more excited – if that makes any sense. More importantly, my wife isn’t nervous anymore, and that means she has confidence in my ability to talk for two hours without stepping on my johnson, and that’s a step in the right direction.

She never went all Gladys Kravitz on me – yelling about what an idiot I was, but there were times when I did a show on WIBC where she looked exceptionally sad when I came home. That was a show about dating that was such a disaster that I flipped the format and decided to break people up instead of introduce them. Not exactly an apples to apples comparison, but I don’t like to see the sad face at all.

I had a guy I respect tell me today that I’m best when not agitated, but there are things about sports that get under my skin, and when we hit those topics, the tone of my voice rises a little bit, and my pulse quickens. I also start to gesture a little wildly when perturbed which is wasted energy as no one can watch the display except Chris and Tyler our producer. Chris always looks a little stunned, but he knows I’m not coming after him, so it’s fine.

We’ll keep working at it. Join us this morning at 9a for two hours that fly by – at least for us.

Five Things You Cannot Do During Little 500 Weekend Because of Me and My Friends

by Kent Sterling

This was early in the night of the Little 500 in 1985. Walnut Knolls D-Building has never been so completely packed with imbeciles and laughter. Today, this kind of fun is impossible.

For many years ending in 2009, friends and I attended the Little 500 bike race at Indiana University as students and alums, and we did things that were brash, stupid, funny, and mean-spirited. Many of those things we did, you cannot do today because we did them first.

Never an arrest. Never a reprimand. We walked around like we had total immunity, and it was either that confidence or blind luck that got us through unscathed for nearly a quarter century.

But as a result of our fun, you can no longer do many of the things we did, as the police and sects at IU charged with discipline will not allow it.

Here is the list of banned behaviors instituted because of us –

5 – The four buildings of Walnut Knolls (now Campus Court) were redesigned to eliminate the free-flowing courtyard responsible for so much social activity there over the years. It was a perfect venue for a party, and in 1985 we had a party so enormous in D-Building that it revealed the weakness in having only two small doorway exits on either side of the 30′ X 100′ courtyard. At least 3,000 people stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the courtyard and on the second floor walkway. A fire or police intervention would have cause chaos that would have made The Who concert in Cincinnati look like a farmer’s market. The building was architecturally redesigned, and a party like that one is no longer feasible.

4 – You can no longer create your own credential for the race declaring yourself a “Special Provost”, primarily because I’ve written about it too many times. Paulie Balst and his Bloomington trophy wife, the lovely Bunny Amberella, were smack dab in the middle of the Cutters photograph commemorating their 2007 victory because of the status conferred upon them by virtue of the handsome credential. After the picture, several members of the IU Foundation (not the resume’ padding do-gooder boobs with the IU Student Foundation, but the adults who earn their living by raising money for IU) shook Balst’s hand and thanked him for all he did. Balst’s response to all congratulatory comments was “Damn right!”

3 – Gallon milk jugs of screwdrivers are no longer allowed inside Bill ‘Army’ Armstrong Stadium. Why they ever were is a mystery, but for years, as others were forced by IU staff to pitch their small bottles of water, we were allowed to march through the gate with gallon jugs of screwdrivers. People would always ask how we got them in. Our thought was always that we were so obvious and brazen that no one ever suspected.

2 – Bands in the meadow after the race used to help keep the race fans segregated from the rest of the student population. That was until Otis Day and the Knights played and my wife’s brother danced. He spun like a top for an hour cavorting through the crowd like a 280-pound human wrecking ball, knocking all who entered his path to the ground. A once huge crowd dispersed and we were left to shamma lamma ding dong virtually alone. That marked the end of bands behind St. Paul’s.

1 – U.S. Senator Richard Lugar no longer takes part in Little 500 festivities, so the chanting of “Dick Lugar, Not Indiana” has been abandoned during parade laps. Each year, he heard us yell his name, and he would look up, smile, and wave. Then he heard the whole chant, which grew louder and more popular with every pass, and scowled. Now, he doesn’t come to the Little 500 anymore.

There are certainly additional idiotic ways to kill time during and after the race that people have discovered and perfected, but for a brief time in history, we were the standard bearers for foolishness. The key is in the ability to walk the line between harmless fun and violent chaos with steady grace.

For those going to Little 500 this year, I wish you luck. There are a million creative ways to enjoy yourselves, and one certain way to get arrested. Remember that cops will only arrest you as a last resort in trying to maintain control, or if you make it fun for them to slap the cuffs on. When the po-po shows up, say “Yes sir,” and move on. And don’t do anything that might hurt tomorrow – which includes driving.

Enjoy abusing your bodies while they are able to withstand that torment, and if at any point you’re not laughing, shame on you.

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My 1986 Masters Story – An Afternoon of Grace

by Kent Sterling

Close your eyes, and think of golf. If this picture of Jack Nicklaus making the birdie putt on 17 in 1986 doesn't pop immediately into your mind's eye, you are under 30.

In 1986, Julie, the woman who is now my wife worked at a Baskin Robbins in Bloomington, Indiana, and if I had a free couple of hours I would ride my bike alongside her to the ice cream store, and then screw around until her shift ended. Then we would ride back to our apartment. There was a Service Merchandise store next door, and that’s where I watched Jack Nicklaus post his miracle 30 on the back nine on Masters Sunday and claim a sixth Green Jacket.

The announcers during the CBS coverage of the second round of this Masters wondered whether a Fred Couples victory this weekend would trump Nicklaus’ feat twenty-five years ago. The answer I yelled at the TV was “NO!” Not that it wouldn’t be remarkable for a 51 year-old to beat young bucks like Rory McIlroy and Ricky Fowler, but the Nicklaus narrative of 1986 was just so improbable and magical that unless Nicklaus sharpens his game next year at the age of 72, nothing at Augusta National will ever rival that afternoon.

I stood at the TV watching the beginning of the CBS broadcast in 1986, and started doing the math. With 13 and 15 coming up, if Nicklaus could post a couple of birdies, he could raise a little hell and move up the board. He had already birdied nine when coverage started to get to -3, if my memory has been dulled by the 25 years since.

Julie was a little confused that I was so excited, running into the Baskin-Robbins to report that Nicklaus was at three-under. “Okay, is that good?” she asked.

“Hell, yeah, that’s good. If he can get to four as he rounds Amen Corner, he’s got two reachable fives, and that could get him to six or seven, and if he picks up one more, hey, who knows!” I told her as I bolted back to the Service Merchandise. Every commercial break I sprinted to Julie with another report, more to kill time during the commercials than to give her information I knew she had very limited interest in.

Nicklaus birdied 10 and 11, and I was bouncing around the TV area, telling various shoppers what was going on. They cared less than Julie did. I was the only person who cared, which was inconceivable to me. I tried to provide a little additional context with each stranger who treated me like some deranged and dangerous nut, “Nicklaus hasn’t won at Augusta since 1975!” “Nicklaus hasn’t won a major in six years!” “Nicklaus is 46, and his son Jackie is on the bag!”

So it was just me and the two dozen TVs, all tuned to CBS so that perhaps someone would see what was going on and would join me. No luck as Nicklaus bogeyed 12. I told Julie, and was still optimistic and doing the math. “Huh? Hey, want a milk shake?”

“No time, got to get back to the TVs. The next three holes are crucial!” I yelled back as I sprinted back to Service Merchandise. Thinking back on it now, I was like Shooter Flatch in “Hoosiers” ranting in the booby hatch about how no school as small as Hickory had ever won the Indiana state basketball tournament. Thankfully, no one at Service Merchandise had access to a straight jacket, or they might have laced me up.

Nicklaus got the stroke back at 13, and followed it with a par at 14. He needed eagle at 15, and that didn’t seem likely, but there was a look in his eyes – a weird sense of calm and joy.

That was the remarkable part of what Jack did in 1986. He had this silly grin on his face like a man who knew exactly what was going to happen. He still had the skill and nerves to do the job, and the wisdom to enjoy it while all hell broke loose around him. There was an aura of conscious perfection in Jack’s manner that day, and those who bothered to stop and watch noticed it too.

The eagle came at 15, and all of a sudden I went from slightly obnoxious curiosity to full blown madman. I yelled, whooped, and leaped repeatedly after that eagle put fell. I ran back to update Julie, who was becoming annoyed with the increased frequency and agitation of my hysterics. I told her that Nicklaus needed to pick up at least one more stroke in the last three to have a chance. Seve Ballesteros was still leading, and Greg Norman was closing.

Nicklaus hit a tee shot on the par three 16th, and I almost jumped on top of a stout elderly lady moseying through my aisle as the ball caught the slope and rolled inches away from the stick to its final resting place at what appeared to be eight feet. CBS replayed the tee shot, and a moment after Nicklaus hit, his caddy/son said, “Be right.” Nicklaus replied without looking, “It is.” And then he winked. I get goosebumps writing about it.

A man so in total command of his moment has to be awed. When most would be quaking at the thought of winning a Masters years after being a serious contender, Nicklaus was totally immersed in his element. The roars from the galleries punctuated every stroke, and instead of filling Nicklaus with fear, it stoked his confidence.

The putt on 16 fell, and then came 17. If Nicklaus could birdie either of the finishing two holes and par the other, he would shoot 30 on the back, and dare to dream – if he birdied both that would make for a 29 on the single nine hardest holes in major championship golf. The back nine at Augusta on Sunday has claimed more than it’s share of victims, as it would that day as Ballesteros dumped a shot in the drink to take himself out of Nicklaus’ way.

The drive for Nicklaus went right on 17, but he recovered to the center of the green, after catching the slope to take the ball away from the hole. And then it was venerable Verne Lundquist’s time to go to work. A lifetime of excellent work, and Lundquist’s “Yes SIR!” remains the signature moment in his career.

Back to Baskin Robbins, “A par on 18 and it’s over!”

It’s truly a gift to watch something special when you know something special might be happening. The same thing happened with the 1980 U.S. Olympic Hockey team. Fans love to paint the picture before the deed is done, and only the crazy thought that Nicklaus could do the near impossible.

My wife understands the context of the story to enjoy watching specials on the round of Jack’s life. We all know the stories about the yellow shirt, worn in honor of a boy who died of bone cancer in 1971, and Nicklaus’ mom being at Augusta for The Masters for the first time since 1959, and Jackie on the bag to share an unforgettable father and son moment after the par on 18 all but sealed it.

Sure, Norman needed to miss a putt for Nicklaus not to be forced into a playoff, but what’s new? If anyone was more than capable of missing a big putt to allow a moment of grace to be shared among the Nicklaus Family and his fans, Norman was the guy.

It was a sweet, sweet Sunday with a two-hour moment of wonder, fatherhood, and perfection that makes us smile today a quarter of a century later. Dreams met reality that day. It doesn’t happen often, and that’s why we remember with crystal clarity like it was yesterday.

The Service Merchandise and Baskin-Robbins are long gone near College Mall, but each time I drive past, I think of that long ago Sunday of magic.

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Fixing College Basketball – Six Ways to Get It Right

by Kent Sterling

College basketball isn’t broken, but as part of the bigger landscape of big money amateur athletics, it’s sure as hell flawed. There are people making a boatload of money to compile and lead talented kids who are waiting for their shot to make millions in the NBA.

Coaches make up to $4 million per year while the kids make nothing more than the cost of their scholarship. For players in the Patriot League, that’s a good deal. For starters at Kentucky and North Carolina, it’s indentured servitude.

Here are six steps the NCAA can take to level the playing field and clear out the corruption that dominates headlines rather than the great stories of the student-athletes who do it right:

John Wooden never took a penny more than the highest paid professor at UCLA, and I like that. You want to clear out the crooks, turn off the cash. Limit total compensation for coaches to that of a tenured professor at that institution. Paying a coach $4 million for coaching college basketball is madness, and only serves to attract the slime that college hoops should systemically repel. I’m not sure how that gets done or by whom, but limiting the rewards for coaches is a great place to start in expelling the riff-raff that so permeate major college basketball.
Cheaters are banned period – forever. Do what Bruce Pearl did at Tennessee, and it’s over. That’s a career ender. That there was any hesitation in firing a coach who knowingly lied to NCAA investigators is an embarrassment to the players and coaches who try to do it right. And the school who hires him should be forever ashamed for putting wins ahead of decency. The NCAA will likely impose a show cause order against Pearl after his appearance at a meeting of the disciplinary committee on June 10 and 11, but that’s not enough. Kelvin Sampson’s show cause (effectively making him unhirable by an NCAA member) expires in 2013, and you can bet that he’ll get another gig shortly thereafter. In the meantime, Sampson is cashing checks as an assistant for the Milwaukee Bucks. If you are serious about stopping the cheating in college athletics, the hammer swung by the NCAA must cause swift and severe consequences.
Limit the NCAA Tournament to 48 teams. This will never ever happen, and I’m not certain it’s a good idea anyway, but I felt so sorry for ESPN bracketologist Joe Lunardi babbling about bubble teams no one cares about that something needs to be done to secure his position and fan interest. Regardless of VCU’s success in this year’s tourney, the two weeks Lunardi spent debating the virtues of Alabama, VCU, Penn State, Colorado, USC, and UAB was as monotonous as it was ultimately meaningless. Maybe Ed DeChellis, Kevin O’Neil, Shaka Smart, and Mike Davis were on pins and needles, but the hundreds of thousands of the rest of us watching could only mutter to ourselves, “Who the hell cares?” So, let’s allow the 32 conference champions, and the best 16 teams who didn’t win. You want crazy interest in the last two weeks of the regular season and conference tournament, and make Lunardi relevant again, trim this tournament back.
Scholarships remain renewable year-to-year contracts, but once a player signs, the school doesn’t get the scholarship back for four years. Coach K wants Kyrie Irving, and he jumps to the NBA after his freshman year, great, but his ride can’t be awarded to another recruit for three more years. The only exception is for kids who graduate early. A degree puts the scholarship back into circulation. There has to be some concession to schools who are committed to bonafide student-athletes. The one-and-done factories like Kentucky are frankly playing by a different set of rules, and it upsets the competitive balance of college basketball. The alternative to this would be for the NBA to adopt the framework baseball uses for draft eligibility. Kids can come out after high school or after completing three academic years.
Allow agents to sign and pay college players. Who is the NCAA to restrict the earning potential of kids who demonstrate worth? Let licensed agents come in, interview with a player, his parents, and coach. Other than a little control, what does a coach lose by allowing a kid to have an agent, and get paid based upon future value? Give the players with pro potential a chance to put some money in their pockets so they can live a normal life while they are in college. Many players have a support system that allows them to pay for some clothes, but others have nothing. Agents throwing some cash to kids is humane.
Get rid of the three-point line. It’s a silly and unnecessary contrivance.
Move the Final Four out of these cavernous stadiums (I know the plural of stadium is stadia, but who talks that way?) Throughout the season, kids grow accustomed to playing and shooting in a specific environment, and then for the biggest prize, they are moved into a giant football stadium. Butler didn’t shoot 18.8% because of a lack of depth perception, but to substantively change the environment so radically for the sole purpose of giving 50,000 extra people horrible seats is silly. Sitting at the top of the United Center in Chicago makes the ball nearly impossible to see. I can’t imagine what it would be like from the corner of the upper deck in Lucas Oil Stadium, and I will never find out even with a free ducat.

I’m well aware that it will be a miracle if any of the initiatives are ever proposed in a meeting full of academics to consider, and parallel to a #16 seed’s chance to make the Final Four to be enacted. And if they were, I would be hated by fans as Ed Steitz was during the 1980s when he was the chief proponent of the three-point line and 35-second clock coming to college basketball. I doubt John Calipari would accept a 95% pay cut without some kicking and screaming, and there are 18 year-olds who have been jacking up 300 three-pointers everyday for the past eight years as they try to build a recruitable skill set who would want me dead.

If advancing these ideas is idiotic, at least I’m a well-intentioned idiot.

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New Show Starts Tomorrow, and I’m Nervous

by Kent Sterling

Fox-59’s Chris Hagan and I went into Emmis today a day in advance of the debut of our show to go over what will do, how we’ll do it, get some pictures taken for the website, and promote the show with Dan Dakich.

Yeah, we have a show tomorrow (Saturday) morning from 9a-11a on 1070 the Fan.

I spent most of the time talking to Dakich sounding like some kind of idiot – laughing regardless of the situation, and mostly trying to justify Dan’s assessment of my ability to entertain, which I felt was unjustly positive.

Back in the day, I used to tell hosts to be themselves. The right frame of mind is to be who you are, but at a slight more agitated state. Trying to be someone else is usually a disaster.

That’s why the people who are very comfortable in their own skin, wel–informed, and entertaining are the best radio talent.

Performing TV news, weather, and sports is a little bit different. It’s about the what. Talk radio is about the who. Lorne Michaels also says about Saturday Night Life that the comdedy is important, but whether they like the performers keeps people through a commercial break.

Radio is the same way. People might have been initially attracted to Dakich’s show because of what he knows, but they stay because they like him.

Hagan is a likable guy. He’s funny, self-deprecating, and an all-around good egg. I, on the other hand, can be quick to judge, sarcastic, and occasionally say things in ways that stick. I’m a little impatient and quick to anger. All that makes me a little nervous.

Some people like me and some don’t, and I’m being kind. I suppose I have that in common with Dakich. There are those who listen to Dan wrong and they find him abrasive. That’s part of his charm. After all, what good is being liked by people if everyone likes everyone. I’m arguing against myself here.

It’s two-hours of radio. We are well-prepared with two solid guests – Butler’s athletic director Barry Collier will talk about how Butler got to their second straight Final Four and Indiana guard Jordan Hulls will tell us about how IU can get over the hump to take the next step toward getting to where Butler is.

We’ll also tell you who will win tomorrow night, whether the Pacers will make the Playoffs, and whether Matt Painter made the right move by staying at Purdue.

Even I couldn’t screw that up.

You can catch the show in Indiana on 1070 AM, and online at 1070thefan.com. The Fan also has an app for your iPhone.

Click here to follow Kent on Twitter @kentsterling

Mark Boyle calls 2,000th Game Tonight for Indiana Pacers

by Kent Sterling

Great play-by-play guys don’t come around very often, and more often than not, they tend to bounce from gig to gig, always searching for the next rung on the ladder – to where I don’t know. Mark Boyle has been in Indianapolis calling NBA basketball games for the Pacers for 23 seasons, and frankly he’s the best there is at it.

Mark’s voice has been the defining and continuing characteristic through the good times and bad for the Pacers. What Jack Buck was to St. Louis, Mark is to Indianapolis. He never blows a big call. As signature franchise moments are paired with the video of the moment as it happened, Mark’s emotion and articulation of the magic are as big a part of the memory as the play itself.

The brawl, the finals, the shot to beat the Bulls in 1998, eight points in nine seconds for Reggie Miller, Rik Smits hitting the shot to beat the Magic, and so many more memories all bound together by Mark’s description of them.

Whether the Pacers win or lose, Mark does his job with consistent passion and skill. So at 2,000 games, does Mark have any interest in calling another 2,000?

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Congratulations to a unique professional and man who significantly raises the level of the mean for professional play-by-play broadcasters. The Pacers are damn lucky to have him. He is the touchstone between the Pacers and almost every fan, but has never allowed popularity to define his work. He earns his money with routinely excellent broadcasts.