Nothing But Iron: Ham and Cheese January 2, 2007 By Steven R. Lagman, M.D., C.A.S.W. Badger Bob Schnese told me this would be a hard game to write about, but he forgot that I once wrote a three-page column on shopping bags. There are sportswriting fates far worse than a Badgers bowl win on New Years Day in Florida, for example, most Major League Baseball games played between April and August, most NBA games not decided by a best-of-seven series and all NFL exhibition games. And let’s not forget, there are amateur sportswriters all across Minnesota who have just taken up Sudoku. It has been said that defense wins championships, and, if college football had a championship, that might apply here too, but even in the archaic present-day context of yet another finale of incomplete significance in yet another season that ends without finishing, defense surely comes in handy. That was apparent in the first few minutes of the Capital One Bowl, when Jack Ikegwuonu burst from the pack to snag turbo charged Darren McFadden from behind, stealing a touchdown and dispelling the myth that north men can’t run. For Wisconsin fans it was as if Ike had diffused a bomb by snipping the green wire with a second left on the detonator’s timer. After a second half during which most of Wisconsin's first downs seemed to come as a consequence of Arkansas penalties, it would be easy to neglect the contribution of the offense. That offense, for the record, scored all of Wisconsin's points, including the three that proved to be the margin of victory. No matter that the scoring started early. No matter that it ended early. It was a masterful job of taking what the Razorbacks would offer: air yards, which should not to be confused with air miles on your Capital One card. Who would have imagined last fall that Wisconsin would realize such a gaudy pass-run ratio at any time this season, in the aftermath of a mass exodus by last year’s receiving corps? In historical perspective this pass-early-pass-often style resembles classic Wisconsin football's 4.2-yards-and-a-cloud-of-dust heritage as Epcot Center resembles the Grand Canyon. Perhaps it should be said that adaptability wins championships. The Cap One Bowl will not be an ESPN Instant Classic, but there was subtle beauty to be found amidst a landscape of second-half ugliness that featured just seven-points worth of scoring. Before we talk about that, we must first credit Arkansas's defensive line and linebackers, for their utter, almost game turning, domination of our formidable, typically reliable, wall of blockers, anchored by senior Joe Thomas, who will likely be the highest-paid lineman in this year's NFL draft. The Hogs eliminated Wisconsin’s running game in the first half, but sacrificed 17 points in the process. In the second half they stifled UW’s aerial attack as well, and it seemed only a matter of time before the ten-point lead evaporated. For those of us wearing the lighter shade of red, the beauty of second half was how well the UW defense fought off the onslaught, on a short field, in hot weather, with minimal rest between consecutive three-and-out possessions by their offensive counterparts. At one point, during Arkansas's second touchdown drive, it seemed that fatigue had finally set in. I feared it might be intractable and progressive, but somehow the defense persevered. The Razorbacks would not threaten again. Finally, when it was needed most, Wisconsin's offense clawed itself upright. Well, O.K., it had a little help. Not from the officials per se, but from Arkansas players who transgressed at opportune (for us) times, causing officials to throw yellow flags as rules dictated. Fans of the losing team will assure you that the refs stole the game. They will talk about the rip-off in disgusted tones at home and at work, by water coolers and urinals, for days to come. In other times we have done the same, because we care so much. I can assure you, with the complete objectivity of a fan for the winning team that the officiating, but for a handful of calls that went against my team, was perfectly accurate. Condiments: The Razorbacks fans showed up in ample numbers. If we outnumbered them, the advantage seemed small, although I heard one estimate of a 2:1 margin in favor of the Badgers. The few Arkansas people I met were friendly and well behaved. While I was in the crowded bathroom a Hogs fan wandered in unsteadily. "Would anyone mind if I pissed in the sink?" he asked out loud. I realized then that Hogs and Badgers had more in common than red clothes. To finish the story, in case any of you washed your hands in the bathroom near gate D: 1) Nobody objected. 2) The guy waited his turn and used the proper receptacle anyway. I overheard this quote from a fan at the tailgate party. It was attributed to Pat Richter. "I used to work at Oscar Mayer. You know what we did to hogs there." Funny, Pat. John Stocco finishes his career as one of Wisconsin’s most accomplished and most popular quarterbacks. It didn’t start that way, but he matured about as well as any of his predecessors. Stocco had a rough third quarter, but held the team together in the end. Remember, his last game prior to the bowl game was November 4. It was consensus amongst my friends and relatives that the Wisconsin defense was most deserving of the MVP, which was awarded to Stocco in a post-game presentation, but nobody dwelled on that because Stocco’s value could not be denied. One could also make an argument for PJ Hill, whose presence occupied at least half a dozen defenders on every play, allowing others to do whatever they wanted to do. Yeah, that’s a stretch, but PJ was probably more significant than he felt. Florida weather can be miserable this time of year. But it wasn’t. It was so good in fact, it felt illegal. Like stealing or eating malted milk balls for breakfast. Eighty and sunny the first two days. Seventy-eight on Monday. Rain threatened with a few gray clouds and a droplet here and there, but by game’s end, the precipitation proved as much a threat as Wisconsin’s running attack. I played tennis twice. Outside. In January. For this I apologize. Basketball followed us to Orlando. Kelly and I joined hundreds of other Badgers fans in a packed Friday’s Front Row to watch Wisconsin beat Georgia. I have never seen so many televisions in one place. It was loud and exciting. I have heard less crowd noise at games in the Kohl Center. My son Patrick, who declined an invitation to go with us, called me at halftime, asking if I would come back to the hotel to pick him up. I said no. I was busy. We visited Epcot Center on Saturday. The kids still laughed when I referred to Spaceship Earth, the giant silver ball at the park entrance, as the Death Star. I was amused that the World Showcase, which attempts to portray the culture and architecture of several different countries with a bunch of fake stuff, includes the United States, which, for you geography buffs is located between Japan and Italy. I was amused because Epcot itself is located in the actual United States, and a theme-park version of the country you are in seems a little superfluous. You might expect that the U.S. would be near Canada and Mexico, but Canada is clear across the lake–not Superior or Ontario or Huron either–and Mexico is between Norway and Test Track. Test Track is not a country. My intrigue with Disney was more about the Disney culture than the various concrete wonders. I am reading a book called If Disney Ran Your Hospital. It is written by Fred Lee, a former higher up at Florida Hospital who once trained as a Disney cast member. Lee is an expert on customer loyalty. In the book he talked of four guiding principles to which Disney employees are sworn: 1) safety, 2) courtesy, 3) the show, and 4) efficiency. They are listed in order. Safety trumps all the rest. Courtesy is next most important, and so on. I had forgotten my sunglasses that day, so I bought a pair at one of the ubiquitous souvenir stands. The clerk was grumpy and not the least bit polite. That surprised and annoyed me at first, but maybe she was just focused on my safety. On Sunday we went to Universal Orlando, which competes strongly with Disney in several areas: 1) artificial beauty, 2) exorbitant ticket prices, 3) long lines, 4) noise and 5) crowds. In the rides category, the Incredible Hulk roller coaster at Universal kicks Disney’s behind. I rode it twice. After ward, as I looked up at the spirals, turns, drops and inverted loops I wondered how it could be that there are people smart enough to engineer such things. ___________ Nothing But Iron is an amateur sports column. This issue is dedicated to the following people: 1) the author’s in-laws, who helped make Orlando a great family experience, 2) to the Badgers, who toughed it out for the author’s benefit, 3) to the author’s wife, Kelly, who planned our trip so well, 4) to the author’s partners who traded call and worked for him so he could attend, 5) to the author’s mom, who inspired him to write and 6) to the folks at Capital One whose relentless pursuit of the almighty dollar made this bowl game possible. This issue is not dedicated to proponents of the outrageously flawed Bowl Championship Series. It is not dedicated to Michigan, the biggest embarrassment of the Big Ten Conference, so far. Congratulations to the Boise Statue of Liberty Broncos, 2007 National Co-Champions and winners of the 2007 Houdini Trophy. ©2007 DrTM Enterprises. All rights reserved.