NUTS AND BOLTS... — The Weekly Opine

The dream became a nightmare for Indiana fans when the Big Ten Conference decided not to honor its own rule. (Photo credit The Weekly Opine)

IU gets stiffed

You may recall the 2019 Kentucky Derby ended in controversy. This after Derby officials adhered to the rules and rendered a decision that some fans and pundits could not fathom. How could anyone snatch victory from the winning entry, in horseracing’s biggest race?

The Weekly Opine’s commentary about that race, titled “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service,” was in support of easy-to-understand rules, and the sanctity of enforcing them. At the Kentucky Derby in 2019, winning thoroughbred Maximum Security drifted into another horse, blocking its progress, and was disqualified. Second-place finisher Country House was rightfully awarded the victory.

The three stewards who reviewed race footage gave a unanimous verdict, based on an unambiguous rule that states disqualification occurs if “any horse in a race swerves or is ridden to either side so as to interfere with, or impede, any other horse or jockey.” No surprise, one of America’s most uninformed people (Trump) said the ruling was the result of “political correctness.” However, Kentucky Derby trainers said race stewards correctly made a “no-brainer” decision. Refreshing.

Unfortunately, the Big Ten Conference gutlessly abandoned any pretense of fairness, in the process screwing-over the team that produced college football’s most compelling storybook season.

Questionable decision-making and lost credibility reside at Big Ten Headquarters. (Photo credit The Weekly Opine)

Which way blows the wind?

Last August, the 14 Big Ten university presidents and chancellors gathered to decide the fate of fall sports, given the expected worsening of the pandemic. Everyone understood this meant the presidents were meeting to determine if the cash-cow sport of football would be played. After all, football delivers an estimated 60% of athletic department revenue while also generating lucrative media rights fees.

The vote against playing football was a resounding 11-3, with only Ohio State, Nebraska, and Iowa voting in favor.

In the days following the vote, new Big Ten Commissioner Kevin Warren emphatically stated the decision was final, saying in a prepared statement, “The vote by [presidents and chancellors] was overwhelmingly in support of postponing fall sports and will not be revisited.” Commissioner Warren added, “The decision was thorough and deliberative and based on sound guidance and advice from medical experts.” So there. Fall football in the Big Ten Conference would not happen.

Then Trump started calling, pressuring the Big Ten to reverse course. Why? To aid Trump in hoodwinking gullible Americans into believing everything was back to normal. (See? College football games are being played! Pay no attention to the empty stadiums!)

In a demolition derby-like pile-on, players took to social media to lambaste the Big Ten’s decision to cancel football. Parents showed up at Big Ten Headquarters. Wayward politicians called for investigations into the decision to cancel the season.

In mid-September, the Big Ten reversed course – nowadays called “walking it back” – with its presidents and chancellors announcing the season would consist of eight games. Teams would play all eight games against conference opponents, without an open week to provide flexibility if games were cancelled due to the pandemic. The Big Ten title game is scheduled to be played December 19, ensuring the conference is eligible to participate in the 4-team College Football Playoff, which will be announced on December 20.

Big Ten Commissioner Warren should be fitted for a flak jacket or heatshield. Both decisions, the original decision to cancel the season and subsequent reversal allowing an 8-game season, were made by university presidents and chancellors. Yet coaches, players, fans, parents, the media, and politicians took it upon themselves to harangue Warren. Warren’s mistake was failing to clearly communicate and do so in a timely manner. The original decision not to play football, and eventual decision to play football, were the handiwork of university presidents and chancellors. Commissioner Warren should not have been the scapegoat.

IU students watch from a central campus location as Indiana beat Michigan on November 7. (Photo credit The Weekly Opine)

Moon walkin’ it back

When the Big Ten announced the 8-game season, conference officials plainly stated teams must play a minimum of six games to be eligible for the Big Ten Championship Game. Amidst moments of communication ambiguity last summer and fall, one of the things spoken clearly was that teams had to play at least six games. I do not recall caveats or special clauses. Like restaurant signs proclaiming, “No shirt, no shoes, no service,” the Big Ten’s stance appeared unshakable.

Ah, but lest we forget: money talks. Michael Jackson would be proud of the slick, backward walk the Big Ten pulled off. After an uneven season during which numerous games were cancelled and multiple teams temporarily shut down because of virus outbreaks, the Big Ten was handed a title game matchup for the ages. Not between perennial powers like Ohio State and Wisconsin, but instead featuring Northwestern, champions of the West Division, versus Indiana, champions of the East Division (due to Ohio State playing only five games). Yes, a game for the ages.

It had a refreshing ring to it, Northwestern vs. Indiana. Two schools that value the phrase student-athlete competing on the national stage. Indiana (full disclosure, I am a proud IU alum) just finished a regular season that is the school’s best since the 1967 season that ended with IU playing in the 1968 New Year’s Day Rose Bowl. Both Northwestern and Indiana earned the right to play in Indianapolis this weekend for the Big Ten Championship. But oh no, due to highbrow shenanigans, only Northwestern will be in Indy on Saturday.

As it turns out, Indiana jointly announced with Purdue that for the first time in 100 years the teams will not play their annual rivalry game, due to the coronavirus. It’s anyone’s guess whether IU would have suited up to play in the championship game, if the Big Ten had not unjustly removed them.

Rename the conference

Arguably, the loudest complaining, after the decision was made to cancel the season, came from Columbus, Ohio. Then, the Buckeyes got their way when the Big Ten changed its mind and allowed an 8-game season. Now, The Ohio State University gets its way as the conference blatantly ignores its own must-play-at-least-six-games rule.

Stop kidding yourselves, Big Ten. Go ahead and change the conference’s name. Maybe like one of those bowl game presenting sponsor arrangements, e.g. the “Allstate Sugar Bowl.” Rename the conference and call it The Ohio State Big Ten Conference. Or Ohio State’s Big Ten Conference. It doesn’t roll smoothly off the tongue but it’s a more accurate representation of who’s in charge of the Big Ten.

No longer thought of only as a basketball school, IU football ascends to national prominence. (Photo credit The Weekly Opine)

Indiana, we’re all for you…

So says the IU fight song. After the coast was cleared to play football – putting at unnecessary risk the health of players, coaches, faculty, and students – like most fans I did watch college football this fall. And no one across college football’s landscape had a more surprising and rewarding season than Indiana. There is not a better college football story than Indiana’s amazing rise from perennial Big Ten also-ran to the nation’s Top Ten. In both the Coaches Poll and the Associated Press Top 25, IU is ranked 7th in the nation.

Suddenly, for the first time since John Pont coached the Hoosiers from 1965-1972, the IU football coach is more popular than the basketball coach.

Whereas hoops coach Archie Miller’s three previous IU teams languished in the Big Ten’s mid-pack and did not compete in NCAA March Madness, football coach Tom Allen made steady progress, with a Superman-like leap-and-bound this season. Regardless of which bowl game IU plays in (if the game is not cancelled because of the virus), this year has been a testament to the value of hard work, tenacity, and infectious enthusiasm, which paid off with a result once unimaginable at Indiana.

To that, IU fans shout with pride, “Hoo, hoo, hoo, Hoosiers!”

Note: As is customary, I will take time off for the holiday, returning December 31 with the year-in-review, captured in photos.

Happy holidays and stay safe!

IU hoops searches: theweeklyopine.com/sports/2019/5/16/on-the-brink-again

Kentucky Derby: theweeklyopine.com/sports/2019/5/9/no-shirt-no-shoes-no-service