Friday, March 11, 2022 7:21 PM
Exactly a year ago this weekend, I was discussing how my column from the previous week had gotten the correct starting point for the DST weekend wrong. This year, I got something wrong that I posted last week…again.
I read an “IHSAA Executive Meeting Minutes” article on the state athletics website. The document had Warsaw as a semi-state 2A softball site, and I communicated my excitement about the AP announcing this round in early June.
I’m starting to wonder if I should, like sports radio host Colin Cowherd, present a segment, “Where Chip Was Wrong, Where Chip Was Right.”
There would probably be more of the old, but I don’t mind feeling some of my swings. If I was always right, I’d either be writing books, or my takes probably wouldn’t be challenging enough.
Anyway, when the Spring Bulletin was published on March 7 on the IHSAA website, Warsaw was replaced by Frontier as a semi-state Class 2A softball site; makes a lot more sense to me. At least this year, I wasn’t telling you to advance your clocks prematurely.
A gentleman who runs the Dashboard for the Triton section I covered last Saturday made a curious point during our conversation. Lakeland Christian Academy (LCA), located in Winona Lake for those who don’t already know where the private school is, was battling the Southwood Knights for the Class 1A Section 53 title. He found it rather odd that they weren’t not in the Triton section.
Each section had seven of the eight support slots filled. It seems easy to move LCA into one of the open Triton slots. I assumed, in my mind, that there must be a hallway divider line drawn between the two section fields running a little west of Indiana State Route 13.
That made sense until I saw North Miami and Smith Academy, almost due south and due north of Triton respectively, but assigned to the Southern Wells sections.
God’s goodness; gerrymandering?
The IHSAA has a map on its website with the locations of all high schools in the state. What would be nice is for the association to have a map for each level of basketball class.
I didn’t have time to plot cuts last week, but a rainy spring or summer Saturday might be the perfect time to set up my folding desk on the screened porch with at least a gin and tonic with a twist of orange peel.
What else would the guy with one of the most well-known names in WASP in North America drink?
With the card on the desk and my cocktail handy, I’m going to go crazy following state logic to line up basketball drafts, at least until my wife asks me to stop my trivial pursuit to pick up litter boxes.
North Miami and Smith Academy – for what it’s worth and from an east-west perspective – are geographically close to other schools in the Triton estate, so I’m already curious what I’ll find out by plotting the sections by class.
I started my work week Monday morning at 8:00 a.m. and my brain was spinning so fast that my eyes widened when I saw the 3:00 a.m. foundry assembly crew walking down the hall. They gave me a knowing look, as if to say, “Again, Chip?
My brain screamed uncle at 5am and I had the good sense to drive to the Hampton Inn in the city where I work to get four hours of sleep. I knew that if I tried to drive more than 30 miles to get home, last week’s column would have been my last column.
I thought sleepless nights would be hard to do when I hit my late 50s, but that’s not the case because my brain is always excited and focused on achieving something. My wife does it too, but she usually does it while grading homework or reviewing the syllabus from home, so she doesn’t have to travel.
I’ve read and heard of coaches at all levels putting in long hours, but I completely understand why it probably seems like a longer day for those waiting for them than for coaches focused on a challenge, especially if you love what you do for a living.
Here is the volley of texts between me and my wife on Monday night:
Chip: I’m not coming home until this thing is over.
Shawna: Hampton Inn or Charley Creek Inn?
Chip: No, it’s not gonna be that bad. I think I’ll throw in the towel at 1am
Shawna: See you Tuesday night. What are you going to do with your medication?
Sleeping all night reminds me of how my son felt when he was playing football. I don’t feel punished for my choice the day after I made it. Two days into choosing to burn midnight oil, however, is when it hits me squarely in the nose.
My son told me that Sunday morning, not Saturday morning, during his senior football season was the day his body painfully reminded him of what he was doing on Friday night.
He generally rode Friday’s postgame adrenaline rush (they had a 9-3 season, so losses were thankfully rare). Saturday workouts, movies, and the occasional pool time seemed exactly what the doctor ordered. Sunday, however, was his first uneventful morning, and it was the longest sedentary period, a period usually beginning early Saturday evening.
I was fine Tuesday night when I got home. I too stayed vertical. When I got home on Wednesday, however, I already knew what was about to happen to me.
The feline welcome cart greeted me at the kitchen door at 8pm. Once horizontal, I believe before 9 p.m., one was a cat “baking cookies” on my chest, and the other cat was curled up between my knees. I was so comfortable.
I’m glad I did this all-nighter the week before DST. I got that part right, at least.
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