I don’t know if tonight is evidence that I am slinking into middle age, have a drinking problem, am a big basketball fan, am a beer afficianado, or some combination thereof. Today, you must understand, has been a good day. I got 8 hours of sleep last night. I played with my kids a good amount this morning in Indianapolis at my in-laws. Then, I left the kids with the in-laws (“Grandma and Grandpa” to Harper and Cole, of course.) I came home. My wife Amy and her sister Suzie, a couple of minor errands aside, left me to veg out, watch basketball, and nap a bit while they worked on a tiling project in the kitchen.

They decided to cap off the day by going to some sort of wine bar in Lafayette. I was invited, but declined. The I.U. game is on tonight. I don’t necessarily like their odds against UCLA, but it’s the Hoosiers, and they’re in the big dance. So, instead of going out with some lovely ladies on a night without the kids, I went out to the Village Bottle Shoppe in West Lafayette where they have an impressive selection of beer. (I opted for the Midwest Sampler which included some Robert the Bruce Scottish Ale from Three Floyds, Scotty Karate Scotch Ale from the Dark Horse Brewery, a double bock from Bells, and a few others I don’t recall off hand.) Looked at one way, it’s a guy opting to watch his team play in March Madness while drinking a couple of good beers. Looked at another way, it’s a guy turning down the company of women, and making excuses to drink alone. “Alcoholic” or “Regular Guy”: You Decide!

What is odd is that I was relatively indifferent to the tournament when it started this year. But then VCU beat Duke, and my Hoosiers made it past the first round. I have warm feelings for the Butler Bulldogs, and, hell, I even find myself in the odd position of wanting to see the Boilermakers do well.

All right, the IU game is about to start. I expect another stellar bit of commentary from James Brown. During the Gonzaga game, I don’t know how many times IU lost possession for some reason that wasn’t immediately clear to me but the commentators couldn’t be bothered to stop talking about something unrelated to the game in order to explain what happened.

Indy Cornrows gives us an update on the NBA All Star game entitled J.O. Survives Lopsided All-Star Game.

As far as the Pacers are concerned, the All-Star Game was a huge success. Sure I wanted to see a close, thrill-filled game worthy of the Vegas hype. But my priority for the game revolved around NOT seeing Jermaine O’Neal in a heap on the floor, clutching his knee. So, from that perspective, mission accomplished. J.O. finished with 8 points and 7 rebounds. He also added to the bizarre sloppiness of the game by accidentally tipping in a rebound attempt for a West basket shortly after he entered the game.

I mention this not so much because I have any interest in the All Star game. I don’t. I just wanted to mention that there is a Pacers blog out there.

Because I don’t feel like enough of a Hoosier rabble rouser by bringing up Daylight Saving Time frequently, let’s venture into the subject of class basketball. Steve Warden, writing for the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette has an article entitled Hoops mystique traded for parity. (H/t Paul O’Malley for the heads up). It has been 10 years since the advent of the abomination known as class basketball. (Nope, I’m not even going to pretend objectivity on this subject.) In 1997, Bloomington North won the last real boys high school basketball title. Since then, the tournament has been converted from one, state-wide tournament, into four tournaments based on school size. (As Mr. Warden put it, it was like grinding a fine fillet into hamburger.) Revenues and attendance from the tournament have plummeted. About the only thing proponents can point to that is positive is that more schools have won championships. If that’s the goal, I have an idea. Just hand out a trophy to everybody before the games even start. Heck, you could just skip the games altogether lest any team have to endure a self-esteem bruising loss.

I’m biased. I went to Richmond High School. With a student body of about 2,500 and a gym that sat about 8,500, we were one of the biggest in the state. That didn’t mean we had a bunch of titles. In fact, we had only one state championship. Growing up, I’d even been warned of the “Hinkle Hex” — meaning that when Richmond went to Hinkle Fieldhouse for the semi-state, we would surely lose. We broke out of that in the 80s — only to get mowed down by the Marion Giants in the finals 2 out of their 3 consecutive championship years. Woody Austin broke the hex and earned himself a Mr. Basketball title, but never the State title. It took his little brother Chad to finally get us to the top. And just in time, too. That must have been ’91 or ’92. Five years later, and we would’ve lost our chance.

But, even if state titles were thin on the ground, sectional titles were not. Pretty much an entire wall of the Tiernan Center was wall-papered with sectional plaques. I guess I can understand if players at schools like Centerville who we routinely rolled over on our way to more interesting Regional games were itching for class basketball. But, my understanding is that this was not the case. The players wanted their shot at being the next Milan. Even if they didn’t win the state championship (and, really, how many schools ever won? — Muncie Central and Marion got more than their fair share, but even a giant like Richmond only got one), they had a shot at taking out an area powerhouse. And, if they did that, people would be talking about it for a decade, if not longer. No, my understanding is that this was pushed by Athletic Directors and coaches, not by players, and certainly not by fans.

At least we got 4.5 billion for the toll road. We gave up the basketball tournament, the crown jewel of high school sports (in my not so objective opinion) for nothing. Ten years later, it still hurts.

It’s finally Super Bowl Sunday, and thank goodness. I’m not terribly original saying this, but hoo-boy, I am tired of the inane “news” coverage for the past two weeks. I don’t find coverage of the celebrities going to the Super Bowl exciting or entertaining. I find it to be a little depressing. It reminds me how different the Super Bowl is than other football games. The other games are about football fans going to a game. The Super Bowl is something else with the fans and even the game being almost incidental.

Stampede Blue continues to have the best Colts coverage around. (And, no, they don’t pay me to sing their praises.) In particular, I got a kick out of this exchange between Big Blue Shoe & Windy City Gridiron.

And, finally, a little fun with Photoshop (not mine, I just thought it was cute):

Kelvin Sampson’s Indiana Hoosiers beat #2 Wisconsin. Indiana is a solid Big 10 team playing at home, but still, that’s pretty huge. Indiana scored 45 second half points to overcome a 2 point half-time deficit and win 71 to 66. A.J. Ratliff led the way with 20 points, including 4 from 6 behind the 3 point line.

Mike at Card Chronicle has a post entitled For the Record which lists 150 teams and people mentioned by Dick Vitale that had absolutely nothing to do with the game he was calling. As Mike says, “just call the game.”

That was possibly the most amazing game I’ve ever watched. So, the Colts were down 7 to 3 when I went to help out putting the kids to bed. When I came back downstairs, the Colts were down 21 to 3, and I’ll have to confess, I thought, “Crap. Here we go again.” Then Manning & Co. scored 18 unanswered points in about 11 minutes of game time. Then followed a see-saw, back and forth until the game was 31 to 31. Then the Patriots go up 34 to 31. And then a big drive, punctuated by Joseph Addai just stuffing it into the end zone. To go ahead. Brady has 1 minute for a come back, and the game ends with an interception. When Jackson caught that interception against Brady, I was thinking GO DOWN, GO DOWN, NOTHING GOOD CAN HAPPEN IF YOU KEEP RUNNING. And, that’s just what he did. When he caught that interception, I darn near cried. Wuhoo!

Colts v. Bears in the Super Bowl.

Today is a day of bipartisanship in Indiana. Democrats and Republicans alike are in harmony. We want the Colts to beat the Patriots. Come a Super Bowl between the Chicago Bears and the Indianapolis Colts, and we may be back to partisan rivalry. But, today, the hatchet is buried. Democratic Mayor of Indianapolis, Bart Peterson has invited Republican Governor Daniels to watch the game.

Democrats are known as soft, bleeding hearts. Everybody is on edge about the tragic consequences of domestic violence and neglected children. But, I think everybody should agree: The Colts should beat on the Patriots like they’re red-headed step-children. Because, as MasterRWayne soberly observes at Stampede Blue:

This game is war! Nay, war is too light for this is a contest of two incompatibility ideals meeting upon the stage of the world. This is freedom versus slavery! Love against hate! Civilization versus barbarity! The hope of Manning versus the dark fascism of Brady! And knowledge versus ignorance itself!!!! This IS Colts vs. Patriots! And comrades… we must prevail!!!!!!

Reading Phil Richards analysis of the upcoming game, if Peyton Manning loses this one, he may as well never have played the game at all. He will be consigned to the ringless quarterback corner of the Football Hall of Fame along with Dan Fouts, Warren Moon, and Dan Marino. (I’ve never been there, but I envision it as a dank, cobwebby cellar with leaky pipes.)

But, alas, according to Boston Herald columnist Michael Felger, the Colts will not win because they hit like girls, unlike the testerone-filled freaks from Foxboro, Manly Men who do Manly Things with Other Men. According to him, the Patriots can only be stopped if the referees insist on enforcing the “rules.” I’m less concerned about losing because of Felger’s rationale and more concerned with overcoming the Kravitz jinx. He says we’ll win because we “just have to.” Last week, for example, he said we couldn’t win unless Manning played really, really well.

So, with Kravitz predicting a win, Felger saying the Patriots are more Manly, all sorts of analysts predicting a Colts victory, and all the other pre-game nonsense, we should probably just forfeit now with a quiet announcement that Peyton Manning is retiring with a humble request that all of his achievements to date be scrubbed from the record books because he has never been to a Super Bowl.

Or, you know, we could just play the game. GO COLTS!!!

So, the AFC Championship game will be the Colts versus the Patriots in Indianapolis. Bill Belichick reminds me of the Cobra Kai’s evil dojo master in The Karate Kid. (“Sweep the leg, Johnny”) Hopefully Tony Dungy will be able to make like Mr. Miyagi and tweak him on the nose. Hopefully Peyton Manning will not suffer a knee injury from an illegal hit or try the “Crane Technique” to finish off the Pats at the end.

This will be only the second time the Patriots have played in Indianapolis since the Colts moved to the AFC South in 2002. The Colts lost that game in 2003, thanks in large part to Patriots player Willie McGinest faking an injury that allowed the Patriots to put a new defensive package on the field — McGinest was instrumental in stopping that final drive of the Colts before he sprinted off to the Colts logo to celebrate without the slightest evidence of the debilitating leg injury that had been so grievous just two plays before that he had to writhe around on the field and stop play. (This year, I suggest we have an “injury team” that acts like a ball boy in a tennis match, swooping in to scoop “injured” Patriots off the field before they can stop play.)

Meanwhile, since 2002 while the Patriots have played in Indy only once, the Colts have played in Foxboro 5 times, compiling a record of 2-3 in New England. CJ at “Charlie Weiss Ate My Baby” suggests that we send the Patriots head office directions from Mapquest to make sure they know how to get here. Big Blue Shoe at Stampede Blue knew this was coming and advises us to relish it. In fact, Big Blue Shoe made a prediction before the playoffs that was entirely unlikely and (so far) dead on accurate:

The Colts will beat the Chiefs, and then they will play their next playoff game in Baltimore for the first time since the Baltimore fans abandoned the Colts, thus prompting them for Indy. The Colts will then beat the Ravens, and then square off in the AFC Championship game against… the Patriots. Yes folks. The Patriots will beat the heavily favored San Diego Chargers, and they will face the Colts in the AFC Championship Game in Indianapolis. The Colts will beat New England (again), and thus make the Super Bowl. A road through the AFC like this is storybook: Beleaguered run defense against Larry Johnson; Colts in Baltimore for the playoffs; Colts against Patriots in AFC Championship Game. In one swoop, all playoff demons get exorcized.

(According to the prediction, the Saints will win the NFC Championship, to bring in the Archie Manning angle.)

But, first things first: the Patriots. Kerry Byrne, writing a column that appeared at MSNBC.com knows Belichick’s secret. It’s not his imaginative defensive schemes, though they help. Nope, it’s simply a liking for unnecessary roughness, blatant brutality – he instructs his players to hit the opposition really, really hard whether they have the ball or not. So, the lesson is simple, we have to hit them harder than they hit us. (And, of course, don’t believe they’re injured just because they pretend to be.)

Go Colts!