An open letter to everyone with Gary Barnettitis: Gary Barnett’s a God. He’ll lead Texas back to the football promised land, because he’s the genius who resurrected Northwestern, a perennial football doormat. The sum of the local press, from print to electronic to the newsletter mavens, have (so typical of the Pavlovian, knee jerk Texas media) anointed Barnett the new goldenboy to replace bad old John Mackovic. Let me be the first to say the first very large negative word about the new Texas football coach (if the media did the hiring, that is). Barnett had years of 3-8, 2-9, and 3-7 before the Wildcats’ breakout year of ’95, when they shocked the nation by posting a 10-2 record after being picked to finish last in the Big Ten. Last year, playing a weak schedule, they slipped to 9-3, and four of those wins were pure flukes. Both years, NW was waxed — hello sportsfans, sound familiar? — in bowl games. This year, NW is 1-5 in the Big Ten and 3-7 overall, with losses to national powers Wake Forest and Rice. Makes me wonder if, in some isolated hamlet, the local populace isn’t slobbering over the prospect of stealing Mackovic from Texas. My source in Chicago (my Dad, who knows all) informs me many will be happy to see Barnett go. Two years ago, Barnett was the hottest property going. That was two years ago. Hula Hoops were popular once too. Gary Barnett won’t be a good coach for Texas. Don’t do it! Stop talking about it! My pick? A coach out of the Mid-American Conference, where every year teams like Miami of Ohio or Toledo, with one third the talent, whup up on the giants from the Big Ten. It would be nice to see UT get in front of the curve for a change. Send this to Bill. Send it to Jeff and Ed. Send it to Kirk. Send it to Heard. This so typical example of media me-too-ism is a solid endorsement for the much maligned “search committees” UT will no doubt employ.
The NBA season has finally begun. This makes me happy. Here are some reasons:
1. NBA players are by far the most interesting athletes. Charles (Chuckles) Barkley tosses a fellow through a plate glass window. This is not unusual. Chuckles will get arrested two or three times a year for involvement in a barroom brawl. Charles would have made a great cowboy. Anyway, Charles gets arrested, threatens to retire, then instead sagaciously decides he’ll only patronize bars with his own private security force. We all accept this with a grin, because everyone likes Barkley, except, I suppose, the guy he tossed through the plate glass window. The outcome of the same incident, had it involved Jose Mesa or Bryan Cox, would have been much different.
2. Basketball pros have a keen sense of the ridiculous. An 18-year-old forward claims to be insulted, “disrespected” in the vernacular of the day, because his team only offered him a $30 million contract.
3. Not to be outdone in the arena of the absurd, entire franchises act out farces that would shame Shakespeare. The Dallas Mavericks — a team with more first round draft picks in the last decade than there are tailbacks who’ve rushed for 100 yards against Texas — open the season with a roster of household names. Ace Custis, Bubba Wells, Chris Anstey, Erick Strickland, Martin Muursepp, elderly A.C. Green, Dennis Scott, and Shawn Bradley. If ever I saw a first year expansion team, this is it.
4. My girlfriend astutely inquires, “What’s football aside from watching guys walking back to huddles, guys writhing on the ground with groin pulls on most every play, leading to an endless succession of Miller Lite and Chevy commercials? Then, on fourth down, someone punts, triggering another barrage of commercials.” I’ve tried, without much success, to halfheartedly explain why managers change pitchers five or six times an inning, or why an inning takes an hour to play. She likes basketball. The players can all be seen. The rules are pretty clear. The game keeps moving. She thinks Hubie Brown’s cute.
5. Basketball players understand the banality of the media. After the Bulls lost their opener to the Celtics, Jordan, already anticipating the “What’s wrong with those old Bulls?” questions, warned the media’s bright lights, with a wink and twinkle in his eye, “Don’t jump to too many conclusions, guys. We got 81 games left to play.”
6. Rivalries in basketball get very personal, very fast. When Allen Iverson sneers with contempt at Michael Jordan, you know a payback is coming, and soon. Shaquille O’Neal decks Utah center Greg Ostertag at a morning shoot-around before the season’s even begun. Can the wily, but ancient, Rockets outthink the younger, more talented Timberwolves? It’s a drama and a test of wills easily understood by even an NBA novitiate. Or let cute Hubie tell you all about it.
7. Since games are often telecast at night, a significant other might watch Friends, Seinfield, and Mad about You while you view the Hornets-Knicks game in the kitchen. Then, at bedtime, you press the mute button and catch the second half of TNT’s doubleheader from Portland. Everybody’s happy. No fights about weekend time together. I believe I’d go so far as to call basketball-watching a therapeutic, relationship-building activity.
This article appears in November 7 • 1997 and November 7 • 1997 (Cover).