It’s official in my book.
Indianapolis is a football town.
I can’t believe I’m actually admitting it outloud.
Back in the day, Indianapolis was 100% basketball. Oh sure, The Indianapolis Colts came to town in 1986 to live in the Hoosier Dome (Sorry RCA, it will always be that to me), but the foundation of basketball went well beyond that. The grand old ABA days are what put Indianapolis and basketball on the map. But now I realize the city had been living off of the reputation of the state. College and high school basketball reigned supreme with some of the best names in the game spawned from Hoosier ground.
In college, the Big Ten meant basketball with a delicious rivalry between the Indiana Hoosiers and the Purdue Boilermakers that got everyone’s attention. I remember being in the 8th grade on a language trip to Mexico and watching IU in the 1987 championship game from a bar in the hotel in Mexico City. (Not to worry, the only beverage consumed was soda.) Members of our group were the only ones in the bar from Indiana, but there were enough Americans in the house just as interested in the game to dominate the TV in the joint. It was huge! The only other thing I remember about that trip is buying silver in a town in the mountains and the gigantic cockroach in our hotel room in Acapulco (teenage girls and bugs DO NOT mix).
High school basketball in Indiana is so historic, one of its greatest stories is immortalized in film. Hoosiers just wasn’t a movie, it was a mantra for all high schools with basketball teams. It was practically Bible study for anyone who believed David could face Goliath and win. Basketball night in Indiana was a way of life for the entire family. That is, until the multi-class system was enacted in 1998.
So when did Indianapolis become a football town?
I can’t tell you. All I know is that when rhetoric from “Manning Bowl 2” lasts days after the game long enough to shadow Pacers Media Day, there’s been a disturbance in the force. I can’t tell you the last time I went to a basketball game and enjoyed it. It doesn’t help when the home team is riddled with criminal activity. The disaster in Detroit didn’t help matters but when the team is continually plagued with headlines profiling drugs, illegal weapons, and domestic violence, there’s a problem that runs deeper than just one incident.
In Kent Sterling’s blog post September 16th, 2010 he identifies a problem that is not specific to Indiana, but a problem with the NBA as an industry:
And it’s not just the Colts. It’s the local high school games and college games, too. Even my 12-year-old son is in the game that has my attention. It used to be the only high school football games played in the pro stadium were the state championships. Now there’s tons of classics and invitationals featuring high school teams playing in the big stadium. Usually if the Colts aren’t at home in Lucas Oil Stadium, 2 high school teams are keeping the turf active from August through October.
Once upon a time I gave my heart to Reggie Miller. Now it belongs to Dwight Freeney. I’ve gone from the paint to the red zone and I don’t know when it happened.
Maybe Indianapolis has always been a football town that just needed some inspiration.
All I know is that the goodwill of the Colts, the legacy of college ball (You Go Purdue! With your Kyle Orton & Drew Brees alums!), and the enthusiasm of high school play has made Indianapolis my football town.
Indianapolis is a football town.
I can’t believe I’m actually admitting it outloud.
Back in the day, Indianapolis was 100% basketball. Oh sure, The Indianapolis Colts came to town in 1986 to live in the Hoosier Dome (Sorry RCA, it will always be that to me), but the foundation of basketball went well beyond that. The grand old ABA days are what put Indianapolis and basketball on the map. But now I realize the city had been living off of the reputation of the state. College and high school basketball reigned supreme with some of the best names in the game spawned from Hoosier ground.
In college, the Big Ten meant basketball with a delicious rivalry between the Indiana Hoosiers and the Purdue Boilermakers that got everyone’s attention. I remember being in the 8th grade on a language trip to Mexico and watching IU in the 1987 championship game from a bar in the hotel in Mexico City. (Not to worry, the only beverage consumed was soda.) Members of our group were the only ones in the bar from Indiana, but there were enough Americans in the house just as interested in the game to dominate the TV in the joint. It was huge! The only other thing I remember about that trip is buying silver in a town in the mountains and the gigantic cockroach in our hotel room in Acapulco (teenage girls and bugs DO NOT mix).
High school basketball in Indiana is so historic, one of its greatest stories is immortalized in film. Hoosiers just wasn’t a movie, it was a mantra for all high schools with basketball teams. It was practically Bible study for anyone who believed David could face Goliath and win. Basketball night in Indiana was a way of life for the entire family. That is, until the multi-class system was enacted in 1998.
So when did Indianapolis become a football town?
I can’t tell you. All I know is that when rhetoric from “Manning Bowl 2” lasts days after the game long enough to shadow Pacers Media Day, there’s been a disturbance in the force. I can’t tell you the last time I went to a basketball game and enjoyed it. It doesn’t help when the home team is riddled with criminal activity. The disaster in Detroit didn’t help matters but when the team is continually plagued with headlines profiling drugs, illegal weapons, and domestic violence, there’s a problem that runs deeper than just one incident.
In Kent Sterling’s blog post September 16th, 2010 he identifies a problem that is not specific to Indiana, but a problem with the NBA as an industry:
How can a kid become an adult if everything is done for him? How about someone from the front office teaching the rookies to look for a place, call the electric company, DirecTV, gas, and water. Call the electric company for a boy, he can read tonight. Teach him to call for himself and he can read at night forever.And now, I find myself scheduling my life around football.
With guaranteed contracts and the constant coddling of young players, the NBA has created a culture of fools who have no idea how to live their lives. They are no held emotionally accountable for their errors in judgment, that occasionally have casualties.
And it’s not just the Colts. It’s the local high school games and college games, too. Even my 12-year-old son is in the game that has my attention. It used to be the only high school football games played in the pro stadium were the state championships. Now there’s tons of classics and invitationals featuring high school teams playing in the big stadium. Usually if the Colts aren’t at home in Lucas Oil Stadium, 2 high school teams are keeping the turf active from August through October.
Once upon a time I gave my heart to Reggie Miller. Now it belongs to Dwight Freeney. I’ve gone from the paint to the red zone and I don’t know when it happened.
Maybe Indianapolis has always been a football town that just needed some inspiration.
All I know is that the goodwill of the Colts, the legacy of college ball (You Go Purdue! With your Kyle Orton & Drew Brees alums!), and the enthusiasm of high school play has made Indianapolis my football town.
From Pacoshome: I know nothing about football, and to be honest, I don't care to know anything about football. But, that being said,this was enjoyable to read because it has a different feel than an typical sports post. It is more personal; it gives the reader some insight into who you are as a person. It's casual tone makes it more fun, and less intimidating to read for a person, like myself, who is football-ignorant.
ReplyDeletePaco is right Lorane. Your voice is all over this piece. It is exciting, because you are excited, and you know your subject.
ReplyDeleteI said the universal is in the personal, but there is a line there and you've crossed it. This piece is so personal sometimes, I'm not lost, but I'm rereading to understand and that's not good.
If you threw the non-Hoosier a little help throughout, your audience would blow up exponentially.
Oh sure, the Colts have been tossing the pigskin in the Hoosier Dome since 1986...
Let the non-sports fan know it's a football team. This essay is not just sports - it is an insight into Indiana. Think about teaching your audience.
This next sentence is a little vague.
But now I realize the city had been living off of the reputation of the state.
And don't make someone look up ABA with a link.
A rewrite...
Indianapolis’ grand old days in the ABA (the now defunct American Basketball Association) put Indiana on the national map, but it was the state’s reputation as a player farm, at the high school and collegiate level, that created the legend of the Hoosier.
I love the personal Mexico City story that tells us about the college level. Do you have a personal story for the film Hoosiers too?
Slow down. Give each thought its due and its sentence. Use more periods. What disaster in Detroit?
You don't have to lose your momentum or your great voice, just balance your jargon with a little explanation and invite more people to the party.
Nice job.