How’s it going group?

It is safe to say to MOST of the USA, stay as cool as you can!  It is warm out there!  It is hot out there! I walked three miles this morning before the sun had the chance to betray me.  That is a benefit of living in a ‘holler.

Tre Roberson played QB for the Indiana Hoosiers for a while.  These days he is a defensive back for the Calgary Stampeders.  He has played for them for a while.

I know, in my initial rants of what is happening with college football in America these days, I made mention here that I was ready to turn my eyes to the North.  The Canadian Football League just finished their second week of the regular season.  I have watched every game.  I love it.  I can’t say that about the NFL.  I can’t say that about college football.  I hope I come around.  Not holding my breath.

This is Vicki.  She is our bomb sniffer.  In another life, she was in Afghanistan trained as a bomb sniffer.  Our son, Jarrett, saved her.  She hangs out with us regularly.  You have heard of PSTD.  Vicki applies.  When there is gun fire heard, she knows it. When there is thunder, look out. She needs her kennel.  To see her calm and peaceful is a great thing to behold.  She is a good one.

On August 9, 2024, you can play the equivalent of TOP GOLF at THE ROSE BOWL in Pasadena.  Why Not?  If Alabama can play a Rose Bowl there, all bets are off.  Hit’em straight!  This is what has happened to College Football.

This photo was taken 40 years ago.  Looks like I have Beatle Hair.

I remember listening to Justin Hayward at a concert he gave at the City Winery in Nashville a few years ago.  He was talking about some differences over the years.  He mentioned amplification on stage.  How loud it was in the old days.  And mentioned how his hair had changed over the years.  Big in the 60s.  Bigger in the 70s.  Shorter in the 80s.  Then he said these days, “We got what we got.”  I’m with you Jus. A few weeks ago, I was in a checkout lane at a grocery store and was having problems with the automated checkout.  I literally saw a replay, on a screen before me, of things I was scanning for purchase.  The problem was in the process I could see how much (or less) hair I had on top where I can’t see in the mirror.  I could hear Justin Hayward.  We got we got.

Foam golf balls for me to practice with in the yard!   Guess what?  I was hanging out with my 5 iron today and I think I was on to something.  Just me and the 5 iron in the yard.  I think I may have, my apologies to Bagger Vance, found my swing.  It is a process.

Finally, remember there is really a pot at the end of the rainbow!

Speaking the rights….

Danny Johnson

Yesterday I received my first 2024 College Football magazine to read and rue over. Oh well, life goes on.  We can watch football or watch something else.  As difficult as some of the changes that have interrupted tradition and the lay of the college football land for many of us have been, at the end of the gameday it is still about how your 11 did against my 11.  That dynamic has not changed.  The Xs and Os will still go a long way in deciding the outcome of a college football game, no matter how many dollars are thrown at one quarterback over the other.

Reading over this magazine’s Big Ten preview for this year took nearly twice as long as it used to.  ‘Ten’ became 11 in 1993 with the addition of Penn State.  Subsequently, Nebraska, Rutgers, and Maryland eventually joined.  This year we add the University of Southern California Trojans, the UCLA Bruins, the Washington Huskies, and the Oregon Ducks.  There are 18 teams in The Big Ten now.

This particular magazine picks the Indiana Hoosier to finish 18th…dead last.  We can only hope that won’t fly.  The apprehension pointed out in the magazine is the one most people are not talking about out loud much in the Hoosier State.

Oh, there has been plenty of bravado thrown around about the confidence of the new coach.  He’s going to need it.  How he displays it is another story.  I keep hearing Coach Curt Cignetti talk about taking over teams before in similar situations, meaning the teams were losing before he got there.  This ain’t Elon.  This ain’t James Madison.  This sure is not Indiana (Pennsylvania).  Maybe he can do it!  Stranger things have happened.  Uh, no they haven’t.  Coach Cignetti has never had a losing season as a head coach.  His record is 119-35.  That’s amazing.  For the Glory of old IU, I hope he does it again.  But I think it will take some time.

What folks aren’t talking about much is more a question than a statement.  Coach Cignetti has brought along a comfort zone in the form of James Madison players to help ease along the transition of expectations and “culture”…as they say… to IU.  I don’t have the heart to ask the question.  Let me put it this way:  I guess Coach Cignetti thinks these guys from JMU can help him win in the Big Ten.  I like that confidence.  I like that loyalty.  I am sure the JMU players will like the NIL bump to be had.

Coach Tom Allen was let go last season and it was the right call for all.  I believe that.  I believed a little too much, going back to the day Tom Allen was hired.  Look at how many games those Hoosiers lost by one score or less in the Tom Allen era.  There were 18 one score loses by Indiana in the Tom Allen era.  He finished 33-49.  Win 12 of those one score games and the record is 45-37 and we are all looking forward to year eight of Coach Allen’s Hoosiers knowing the last time an Indiana football coach had a win-loss record 8 games over .500 was when Coach Bo McMillin stepped off the field in 1947 with a 14-year record of 63-48-11.

Moral of the story is the potential is really there.  Indiana is not as far away as the magazine wants you to believe.  But it’s a hard sell isn’t it.  Press onward is the battle cry.  Maybe Coach Confidence will bring it all around.  Some of us would like to see it in our lifetime.

The Indiana-UCLA game is to be played in The Rose Bowl on September 14th at 7:30 PM.  When we found out what the date would be, many months ago, I ceremonially booked a room at the same hotel where I have stayed twice whilst watching UCLA-USC in football’s greatest cathedral.  I cancelled the reservation yesterday.  But I am not yet going to cancel my optimism completely.  Sometimes being able to say I told you so just plain hurts and is not fun at all.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

When I recently informed an old colleague of mine that I was heading back to the school counseling office for the 2024-2025 school year, he referenced Henry David Thoreau to me.  That made me smile.  Thoreau said he left Walden woods for as good a reason as he went there.

“Perhaps it seemed to me that I had several more lives to live, and could not spare any more for that one.” – Henry David Thoreau

That is what my friend was alluding to.  When you get that kind of encouragement, you know you are doing the right thing.

Room 127 has been good to me and my students the last couple of years.  I have truly enjoyed the opportunity to go back to my English teaching roots and try to help learners better negotiate the English language.  At the end of the day for me, Indiana Academic Standards notwithstanding, I wanted to help my students become better communicators moving forward with their lives. The art of communication is a skill that is at a premium these days.

Room 127 is waiting for another life of its own with another English teacher to help students navigate the rigors and nuances of the English language.

Me?  Well, I am heading back to the school counseling office, and I am thankful to our school’s administration for giving me a chance to return to a place I spent five years from 2015 to 2020.  That is what I trained for.  That is what I earned a master’s degree at U of L for.  The counseling office is where I have spent 19 of my 29 years as an educator.  I feel that we are waiting on each other.  The office and me.  Helping students and parents navigate high school is not a charge to sneeze at.  This is an important time and place in the lives of impressionable youngsters, and they need all the support we can give them.  I have been there.  I think I can help.  I know I can.

I can’t say enough good things about the students I have had the last three years.  One student, Sarah Knight, drew this for me in art class this spring.  I was moved intensely.

Vex Baysore wanted me to see the bird that was crafted in art class.  It was a thing of beauty and inspiration.

One of my 9th grade students told me this week that, since we were wrapping things up, we needed to listen to some of my music.  What could I say?  I don’t make a habit of tuning into my own songs on Amazon Music.  I rarely listen to them.  I know what they are about.  I was there.  Still, I was honored the student asked.  That is all I can say.  And I acquiesced.

The last episode of North Harrison Hodgepodcast featured two of my senior students.  Mario Mendoza, me, and Nick Allen.  I had both of these guys in class as sophomores and seniors and spent the most of one football season hanging out with them.  They are class acts.  I will miss them.

The North Harrison High School Hodgepodcast was a strike!  We had 11 episodes this year.  They can be found here:

North Harrison High School Hodgepodcast | North Harrison Community Schools (nhcs.k12.in.us)

I read the Indianapolis Star each morning online.  Was I ever delighted to see that former NH basketball player Langdon (LT) Hatton will be playing for the Indiana Hoosiers next season.  After seeing more than a hundred football games at IU over the years, this past season my dear wife, Carrie, and I saw the Hoosiers play Wright State in my first game at the Assembly Hall.  I expected more from this team when I saw them.  Obviously, they were not a ‘team’.  That will be taken care of.  I believe that.  I suppose I better make it to another game or two this year.  Congrats to LT and his dad, Steve Hatton.  They have both put in hours and hours and hours of preparation.  There is still something to be said about hard work.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Last Saturday, my brother Darrell and I drove to St. Louis to watch a United Football League game.  The St. Louis Battlehawks played the Memphis Showboats.  St. Louis won 32-17.  Everything about this experience was exquisite.  We left my house at 7 AM and returned right at 7 PM.

I haven’t spent much time in St. Louis.  A couple concerts and this trip.  We rarely head west.

There were over 31,000 Battlehawks fans in attendance.  Everything about was wonderful.  Tickets were affordable.  Families, entire families were there and that was a great sight.  We were all there to have fun.  It wasn’t like if we get beat by Jets today, we’re all going to be mad the rest of the week.  None of that stuff.  Look, the football Cardinals left town.  The Rams left town.  These people enjoy and support a team that is in town.  This team has the best attendance in the league.

Even better, AJ McCarron completed 35 passes for the home team.  What enamors me about his play is that this career NFL backup wanted to play for team he could start for so his boys could watch their dad play.  That is easy to root for.

Speaking of rooting.  I was root, root, rooting for the home team this week.

I had the pleasure of doing the PA announcing for North Harrison High School Baseball this past week.  We played four games, with only Wednesday off.  The Cougars took 3 of the 4.  It was pure fun.  Coach Kevin Fessel has a nice team.  My hat is off to him.

Today we were at NH for the spring play.  The History of Dating was the name of the play.  It was fantastic.  The players were spot on, and it went off without a hitch.  I know how difficult this is.  I have been there.

Want a giggle?  The above was on an assignment one of my students turned in.  We talked at length about the TOTAL ECLIPSE that was around these parts.  We didn’t go to school that day.  I had my senior English classes write a poem with the eclipse as its theme.  On one doc, I got a poem and this picture.  I just shook my head.  I appreciate it.

This picture was taken on November 15, 2019.  My dear wife, Carrie, and I were at Marshall to see the Thundering Herd take on the Louisiana Tech Bulldogs.

Before the game, at the hotel we were staying, I slipped down to the indoor pool facility that was empty.  It was warm.  I took a seat.  I took out my phone and dialed the 601 area code.  I called my Aunt Barbara for the first time in a long time.  Ashamedly, I can report that when I took my job at North Harrison my calls to her slowly dried up.  It was my fault.  For the previous thirteen years before I took my job at North in 2015, I worked at Medora Schools and drove 54 miles one way to get there.  Many of those days I stayed and announced ball games.  That meant late nights getting home.  To pass the time, I often called my Aunt Barbara Hines.  We talked about everything.  When things got really juicy, she’d say, “You’re a mess, Danny!”

Aunt Barbara’s husband, my Uncle Durwood Hines, died in 1988.  He had a brain tumor.  In 1989, Aunt Barbara and I went to see Ole Miss play Arkansas in Jackson.  We had so much fun we did it again in 1991.  Then Ole Miss quit playing games in Jackson and kept everything on campus.  In 1996, Carrie and I went Oxford with Aunt Barbara to see LSU.  Two weeks later, she was up here, and we were taking her to see Penn State at Indiana.  In 1998, she came up here to see IU play Minnesota.  In 1999, my son, Jarrett, and I were with Aunt Barbara heading to Oxford to see Ole Miss play Georgia.  In 2001, she came up and we took her to Lexington to see Ole Miss against Kentucky.  The last game Aunt Barbara and I saw together was Ole Miss vs. South Carolina in 2003.  It was Eli Manning’s senior year.  The Rebels won 43-40.  Had they played fifths instead of quarters, the Rebs probably would have gotten beat.  We all walked away feeling the Rebs had escaped.  Eli threw for 396 yards.

After that call I made to Aunt Barbara in Huntington, West Virginia in 2019, she and I were connected to the end.  Rarely did a week pass when we did not talk.  Sometimes two or three times a week.  Let me tell you this, last year when my lung ailments were fixed to the point where I could breathe freely for the first time in my memory, I walked and I walked.  When I walked and I walked, I called Aunt Barbara.  The last year of her life, we covered more ground than either one of us ever bargained for.  I am so thankful.

Taken at The Cock of the Walk catfish restaurant along the Ross Barrnett Reservoir in Brandon, Mississippi in 2017.  A great meal with the best of times.

This was taken the last time we saw Aunt Barbara in 2019.  Two of my favorite ladies.

Aunt Barbara died this past Saturday.  Leave it to her to go on a Saturday.  That was our favorite day of the week.  How can I watch the Ole Miss Rebels without her?  We’d be on the phone on game nights, and I would receive the signal seven seconds before she would.  I’d just wait for her to say “Get him! Get him.” Or I’d hear, “Oh, Lord.”  That was a bad play.  We’d relive every game, and we had all the answers.

College Football won’t be the same for me.  I guess I need to call Paul Finebaum again in honor of Aunt Barbara.  That won’t help.  I sure hope time will.  Cos I’m sure gonna miss her.

Speaking the Rights…

Danny Johnson

Yesterday I went for a long walk.  I walked more than five miles.  This was the first meaningful walk I have made this year.  My exercising has primarily been on an elliptical and stationary bike in 2024.

My reasoning for staying indoors to exercise has been based on either the temperature outside or the number of allergenic pollens in the air.  At least that is what I have been telling myself.

The truth of the matter is that I think I would have gone after my usual walking trail long before now, had I been able to call my Aunt Barbara.  I can’t do that anymore.  By now in years past, I could have told you how the Ole Miss Baseball Team was doing.  Aunt Barbara kept me in the know.  We’d talk about the Paul Finbaum Show and how long she listened to it that day before she had to turn it because it was sounding like “silly mess” to her.

I’d talk to her and walk and walk some more.  Then when I was done, I would write something like this and put all these pictures on here.  The next time we talked, we’d talk about the pictures on here.  Those times never got old.  I miss them.  I miss talking to her.  Aunt Barbara is in poor health somewhere in Mississippi.  When I think about that, I am in poor health too.

So, I need to keep moving.  I need to keep walking.  That five mile walk I made yesterday was seemingly waiting on me.  I needed it.  I talked to my mother while I was walking until the wind got too bad.  Then I listened to music.  I enjoyed it all.

Who wouldn’t enjoy walking around all this natural beauty?

The Spring is always a nice time.  But I was thinking about something.  As I was walking and looking at all the new green popping out in the warm weather we have been treated to of late, I thought about the fall.  I thought about how fleeting that special season is when the leaves are changing and the yellows, reds, and browns of autumn give us a settling comfort for just a while that is never enough.

Yes, my walking trail is special.  I walked for five miles and saw two cars in the process.  I am going to keep walking.  I am going to keep moving, however lonely it may seem at times.

A little while ago I watched Scottie Scheffler win his second Green Jacket in two years, as he won the Masters Golf Tournament today.  I enjoy golf.  There is so much grace and honor to it.  No other sport personifies grace and goodness like golf does.  Players don’t act like they are running for public office when they make a nice shot.  They know a clunker is waiting in the weeds for them.  You know, like the shots you and I make.  They make them once in a while too.  Class lives in golf.

I know I go on and on about Justin Hayward around here.  A few days ago, I listened to John Lodge’s live album that he recorded in 2017 apart from The Moody Blues.  This is a nice record.  It was recorded in Birmingham, England’s Town Hall.  This was the same place Lodgy saw Buddy Holly when he was a kid in 1958, just 11 months before the Day the Music Died.

On this day on 2018, The Moody Blues were inducted into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  The last concert the Moodies played was in November of 2018.  It was in a hotel ballroom near San Diego.  The gig was in support of a local charity.  That was the last one.  No great fanfare.  No great goodbye.  Just a gig in a room with a low ceiling with a small crowd for a good cause.  That’s poetry.

The latest edition of the North Harrison High School Hodgepodcast was a great time.  Thank you for being my guest, senior Vicki Moorman.  We spoke of many literary pursuits and her future plans at Manchester University.  I was impressed with this young lady.

Have a great week all.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Welcome to Indiana Basketball.

If you know the movie Hoosiers, you know that line. Welcome to Indiana Basketball.

Yesterday I texted those words along with this picture…

to a cousin in Mississippi.  He was impressed with the attendance.

Each time I watch the movie Hoosiers and hear that line spoken by Gene Hackman playing the character of Hickory Huskers head basketball coach Norman Dale, I see a different gym in my mind.

I was fortunate enough to shoot a few hoops as a youngster in this gym which was located in Brownstown, Indiana.  The locker room in the Hickory Gym is a dead ringer for the one we dressed in for pee-wee football here. I am fortunate, again I say it, to have been there.

Fast forward about 47 years.  

Yesterday, as I walked into the Gainbridge Fieldhouse, the home of the NBA’s Indiana Pacers, the first person I saw there was an old friend named Jon Robison.  I had the pleasure of meeting his wife and his son.  Jon too shot hoops in the ‘old gym’.  He shot many more than I did there. I saw Jon play for Brownstown Central many years ago.

Inside the Indianapolis arena, the current Brownstown Central Braves High School Boys Varsity Basketball Team was nearing their turn on the floor to play against the Wapahani Raiders for the Indiana Class 2A Championship.

I had my popcorn ready.

At the behest of my dear friend Adam Disque, I joined him and his family to watch the action.  Action that proved to be history in the making.  Brownstown Central defeated Wapahani 55-36.

The tale of this game for me was that Brownstown played the first half clean as a whistle.  Wapahani did not go to the charity stripe one single time in the first half.  That is rare at any level of basketball.  This is a true sign of a well-disciplined BC team.

Part two of the tale is that, and excuse my language, in the first half Wapahani couldn’t hit a cow in the ass with a bass fiddle.  With 2:13 left in the 2nd quarter, Wapahani’s shooting percentage was 21.1% to Brownstown Central’s 55.6%.  We need not look at much more.  The halftime score was 31-14 in favor of the BC Braves.

This was the first time I had seen this BC team in action this season.  I don’t get around to basketball games like I do football games.  Seeing this team in action, and I wanted to all year, was worth it.  One thing I jotted down in my notebook at halftime was about a pass that I saw BC senior Jack Benter throw across the court to a teammate in the opposite corner that turned into a three pointer, my apologies to the shooter.  That was the best pass I have seen at a high school game since I was announcing courtside at Medora when a kid named Brody Boyd came to town playing for Dugger.  Boyd threw a bounce pass in front of me that was so quick, fast, and accurate that I still smile when I think about it.  So impressed, that whenever I step foot into a high school gym to watch a game, I think about that pass each time I do so.

Wapahani came out in the second half like a team that wished it could start the game over again.  The Raiders outscored the Braves 14-7 in the third quarter.  At the end of 3 quarters, Wapahani was shooting 35% and the Braves fell to 42%.  That was that.

And that pass I was spoke of earlier?  Well, sorry Brody.  In the 4th quarter, Jack Benter was seemingly trapped on the block and had nowhere to go.  I was waiting for a Meatball Cockerham double-pump under bridge technique.  No need.  Benter spotted his teammate, sophomore Micah Sheffer, in the FAR corner from Benter’s precarious position.  Jack Benter proceeded to engage in a behind the back pass that took one solid bounce before it landed perfectly into the hands of Sheffer. Like the sophomore quarterback he is with good sense, Sheffer threw in a three pointer that put the icing on the cake of a pass and shot that will be talked about in and around Indiana High School Basketball long after my granddaughter is talking about me in the past tense.  The play was that good and I was there to see it.

Benter finished with 25 points.  Chace Coomer threw in 13.  Micah Sheffer scored 10, and Parker Hehman, who averaged 11.6 a game on the season, played the role of teammate extraordinary by tossing out 8 of the team’s 13 assists.  I am not going to list all the players here.  Don’t think I don’t appreciate you.  I haven’t officially been a Brownstown Central Brave since before the Miracle on Ice.  But for 1 hour and 24 minutes, surrounded by old friends and guys I was in a huddle with once upon a time myself, I was a Brave again for the first time in a very long time.  In truth, that feeling wore off by the time I was in my car riding away while the team was on the floor getting medals and a nice trophy.  I didn’t stick around for ceremony.  I was fortunate to receive what I did; I ran before something could ruin it.

Let me close with saying congratulations to Coach Dave Benter and the rest of his coaching staff, two of whom I worked with at Medora many years ago.  Marty Young and Michael Leitzman are both good guys.  And congratulations to assistant coach Kevin Gwin for being recognized, during the game at that, with a plaque acknowledging Kevin as the IHSAA Champion Educator for Brownstown Central.  Another victory!

Congratulations BCHS.  I enjoyed it.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

I have a soft spot for old English rock and rollers.  When I saw that Steve Hackett, one of the greatest guitar players ever to reach for a pick, was going to be playing at The Brown County Music Center in Nashville, Indiana there was certainly a tug to head that direction this past Thursday evening.  The tug won.

I remember something Justin Hayward said in 1992, “There’s nothing more disgusting I think sometimes in the English countryside than that old sort of English rock and roller sitting there in his stately home, you know, plinking his guitar and wondering what to do next.”

Cue Steve Hackett.  Hackett had a desire on this tour to play places he and his group had not been to.  The man who can fill up The Royal Albert Hall was bringing the goods in earnest at a Brown County Music Center that I doubt had 400 in attendance.  Still, there was a power on that stage led by a guitar hero in his 70s that doesn’t come around very often.  The man, whose finger picking on the neck inspired Eddie Van Halen, has more dexterity in his fingers than anyone I have ever seen.  A Rock and Roll Hall of Famer from his time (1971-1977) as the lead guitarist and composer in the group Genesis during a time when this band was making music that was ahead of its time and music that will stand the test of time long after I’m here to tell you about it.  Hackett and his boys on stage were the real thing.

My newspapers these days are on my new laptop. I am using my new computer to write this post.  My dear wife, Carrie, got tired of me looking at my online newspapers on my phone or my Chromebook.  This new HP has a much larger screen.

The daily Louisville Courier-Journal is no longer delivered to our address.  This has been a terrible adjustment for me.  I read The Tribune from Seymour.  It only publishes properly two days a week now.  Your old Uncle Dan can remember The Seymour Daily Tribune back in the day.  I can keep up with my native Jackson County and folks I still know well there.

These days I am reading the Indianapolis Star online daily.  This is paper is better than the Courier and in its last days on my kitchen table, The Courier was not giving us any Southern Indiana news.  This was both disconcerting and offensive.

I finish things off with The New York Times.  If there is something there to catch my eye, I read it closely.  If not, I pass it by.  I enjoy the music, theatre, and arts a great deal.

I miss the tangible experience of holding a paper and folding it up.  When I go out of town, I relish handling some of the papers I truly enjoy.

I found this picture recently.  It was a halftime chat my Dad was giving his team at Brownstown Central in 1978.  Looks like they were on the wrong side of the scoreboard at halftime.  You don’t see photos like this in school yearbooks anymore.

The latest North Harrison High School Hodgepodcast featured senior Zachary Miller.  I had a blast listening to The Miller’s Tale.  I am looking forward to watching this young man pitch for the NH Baseball Team.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

What’s it going to be?  Warm or cold?  Ugh.  Such is March.  

It must be March.  I am paying close attention to college basketball and was delighted to watch North Carolina State upset UNC in the Atlantic Coast Conference Championship Game.  5 games won in 5 days for the 10th seeded (in that tournament) Wolfpack.  How big a deal is this?  NC State last won this tourney in 1987.  Having UNC and Duke within Levi Garrett spitting distance from each other along Tobacco Road and NC State 25 miles down the road makes this unlike anything in college sports I can point at.  Well done NC State.

So much went on this past week.

Eric Carmen, the great singer-songwriter, passed away.  Whether as the lead man in The Raspberries or singing All By Myself, Boats Against the Current, Never Gonna Fall in Love Again, Hungry Eyes, or Make Me Lose Control, Carmen was one cool cat.  From Cleveland, Eric Carmen will be missed.  He is one I wanted to hear in person that I did not get to.  That makes me sad.

When I looked at the calendar on March 11 I did a double take.  No, I thought.  It can’t be.  Yes.  It has.

30 years since The Moody Blues played in Evansville.  These pictures were taken because I had a PHOTO PASS.  I wish our camera had been a little better.  We can call it a true sign of the times.

Thirty years later, Justin Hayward was playing a show in the old country this week.

Justin is on tour in the UK.  He comes back to the United States for a tour in July.  I doubt I will make that one.

A few folks told me I was overreacting when I wrote some time ago about the changing face of college football.  When I listened to Nick Saban talking about the same thing this week I just shook my head in agreement.  All I can say is, at this point, something has to get better.  Look for us to suffer through an awkward season with no PAC-12 and conferences going through growing pains.  A few conferences and many players will be going to the bank watching their budgets swell.  What else could this be about?

I must say the North Harrison High School Hodgepodcast has been a great thing so far.  The students and faculty member I have sat down and jawed with so far have had a good time.  I really believed in the concept.  I thought it would work.  Through five episodes, we have not had to STOP! and start over again.  Every syllable has been from the heart.  We’ve talked about music, track season, academics, science teaching, archery, future plans, and more.  In upcoming episodes we will be discussing baseball and the upcoming school play.

HOW ABOUT THAT MID-SOUTHERN CONFERENCE!

I know.  This is an old photo.  I have not been to the Brownstown Central High School gym since they installed the new floor.  Given it was designed by a guy who stood up in my wedding, I should be ashamed.  I am.

I am not ashamed to report that the Class 2A BCHS Braves and the class 3A Scottsburg Warriors, both members of the Mid-Southern Conference will be playing the State Finals at Gainbridge Fieldhouse in Indianapolis on March 30th.  The high schools have to wait for the NCAA Tourney stop to clear out before it is their turn.

Last week I was a bit critical of the plight of listening to the Braves games on radio.  Can’t really blame myself.  Rare is the time I can make it through an entire broadcast.  Gladly, I can report that, for whatever reason, the announcers were much improved this weekend.  I don’t know if they were inspired by the “burp” one of them turned loose before tip-off (the burper did say “Excuse me.” and that was encouraging) or the fact that there was just a little more consistency about the recognition of the players.  All I can say is keep up the good work.  I was able to hang with both games this weekend.

Tomorrow will be a good day for me.  I have been looking forward to my 56th birthday.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Editorial Note:  Written while listening to the Brownstown Central Braves play Sullivan for the Regional Championship.  Listening is painful.  One Brave announcer finds it cute to call out Jack Benter by his first name…at all times…whilst referencing the other BC players by their last name.  Thankfully, JACK is a senior.  Listening to this is always painful. Know that I called football, basketball, and baseball on radio at the high school level for many years. I feel I can state this.  Still, I follow the Braves when my North Harrison Cougars are not playing.

I am either that old or that much of a traditionalist.  

Not unlike so many of us, I have a “news feed” on my cell phone that is dictated by that which I am interested in.  Ballet does not show up.  Water Polo does not show up.  My news feed has a great deal of items related to music and a great many devoted to sports.  Football is the primary sport I am “informed” of.

News Feeds, for me, are becoming more and more unworthy with each passing day.

I get stuff like this:

3 Musicians That Dislike the Eagles…who cares?  I don’t like The Eagles.  Sure, I have a copy of Hotel California. But why should I give a rat’s bladder about 3 musicians who don’t like The Eagles.  I know their windbags.  Personally I don’t think The Eagles pushed themselves creatively.  Still, I don’t care what any other musician thinks about them similarly to how I don’t care what a music critic thinks.

Alabama had 2 coaches in mind to replace Nick Saban… I certainly doubt that.  There had to be at least six candidates on the short list.  The hierarchy of the Tide Athletic Admin and Boosters would never let themselves appear to be a bunch that had to keep looking.

Rece Davis names Big Ten Team that will ‘Never” be Michigan or Ohio State... Does it get any dumber than this?  Probably.  But man, this is asinine.  How do I get this off my phone?  I liken it to stepping in a pile of dog crap and noticing that something stinks after I take my shoes off.

Paul Finebaum Bluntly Names College Football Teams That Don’t Belong in CFP (College Football Playoff)…  The 2024 season starts in earnest the first week in September.  Why?  People really care about this?  Look, I think the world of Paul Finebaum.  His daily show on the SEC Network is a throwback.  Regular callers.  Great guests.  Paul lets folks have their say.  Face it.  My news feed stinks.  Am I that boring and predictable?

Rece Davis Names Most Underrated Fight Song in College Football… Shoot me. We really care about this in March?  You say someone does?  God help them.

BRAVES LEAD AT THE HALF…29-18…if I heard correctly.  Listening is not easy.  Oh, by the way, I just answered the station’s halftime trivia question and won a pizza.  Small consolation prize for the listen.

The College Football Announcing Road always leads me back to Keith Jackson.  I know.  I know.  He’s gone.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to do it like Keith did.

My favorite Keith Jackson quotes:

“Amplify, clarify, and let the viewer draw his or her own conclusion.”...How refreshing.  Don’t be the story.  Tell the story.

If I’ve helped people enjoy the telecast, that’s fine.  That’s my purpose.”…The man knew his purpose.

“The one thing you can’t ever forget-the playing field is the property of the players and coaches.  It’s not to be used by some fat-butted announcer trying to make a name for himself.”….Keith would never have a chance in today’s climate of blow-hard announcers.  I love the man.

Keith was a soothsayer…

“When the money gets bigger and the stakes get higher, the sea gets wider, and the sharks in the water grow sharper teeth.”…  College football personified long before there was a thing called NIL in play.  Keith Jackson died a long time ago.  The man was ahead of his time.

How messed up is my news feed?

I get all the crap I have mentioned here on my phone (not the Keith Jackson stuff).  What did I not get on my phone?

Today as I was on the elliptical downstairs, I decided to go through some YouTube to find something to pass the time.  I found a story that broke my heart.

It’s March 9th and only today did I find out that the great Chris Mortensen, Mort, a credible NFL JOURNALIST,  A REAL ONE, died on March 3rd.  How great was Mort?  Peyton Manning knew he could TRUST Mort.  When Peyton Manning left the Indianapolis Colts, he told Mort.  And he asked Mort to sit on the story until the next day.  Mort was a man of his word.  Mort was a man of dignity.  Mort was a man of truth.

Why did I not know this?  I don’t watch ESPN’s Sportscenter.  Can’t stand the announcers.  I don’t read a daily paper.  One is no longer delivered to my address.  Another The Day the Music Died story.  How can my credible news feed leave out the death of Mort?

Get me out of here.  I don’t watch pre-game shows.  And now looks like I need to find a way to change my news feed on my phone.

Keith Jackson, I am glad you did not live long enough to see this.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Written whilst listening to original vinyl from 1974.  50 years?  Don’t tell me that.

I recently acquired the autobiography written by Barbara Streisand.  I have read only a few chapters.  I had to look for what she had to say about Pat Conroy, the author of  the novel The Prince of Tides which Barbara made a movie out of and did a great job of.  Her accounts of Pat Conroy were favorable bordering on exceptional.  I met Pat Conroy once.  And for me, that time was exceptional.  When I told him I was an English teacher, he was mine.  I am so glad his novel was given the treatment it deserved.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a poem I was quite enamored with in college.          The Tide Rises,the Tide Falls by Longfellow made an impression on me.  A song I wrote many years ago alludes to this poem slightly.

I use this as a reference for the title of this post.

Yesterday while I put myself through a vigorous workout on the elliptical, I watched, for the first time in my life, A Star is Born (1976) starring Barbara Streisand and Kris Kristofferson.  This movie has been a part of my life since I was 8.  Why?  The song Evergreen, the love theme of the movie, has played out in my head for more than 47 years.  I love the song.  And guess what?  I enjoyed the movie.

Watching this movie, I came to the conclusion that, in my mind, Barbara Streisand is the greatest American entertainer in history.

Watching A Star is Born, I was asked to believe that Streisand’s character was a nobody waiting to be discovered.  This from the actress that wooed us in Funny Girl, cracked us up in What’s Up Doc?, and already made us cry with a song and acting performance in the movie The Way We Were with Robert Redford.

I believed every minute of A Star is Born. She was that good.

Watching her sing Evergreen in the movie after my personal movie had been established was tough.  My mind already had a video for this tune and they did not mesh.

Bob Seger was never big on making videos.  Think about it.  How many Seger tunes have you SEEN?  You haven’t.  Seger once said the video that is most important is the one we conjure in our own mind.  I paraphrase here.

I still think Barbara Streisand’s performance was monumental in A Star is Born.  I am glad I finally got around to watching this film.  It was important.

I end this listening to Justin Hayward and the Moody Blues singing Nights in White Satin.  This song is timeless.  So is the work of Barbara Streisand.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson