Nothing But Iron: Blue Wednesday By Steven R. Lagman, M.D., C.A.S.W. December 2, 2009 Today, as I float, barely buoyant, in the wake of Thanksgiving Thursday, acute tryptophan intoxication, tryptophan intoxication hangover and African American Friday, I realize that, besides my family, my job, my home, my suburban farm and 18 pounds of turkey, I am thankful for an endless internal mudslide of subject matter from which I can create endless literary offerings for my readers.  It’s odd to be in possession of excess substrate.  I remember 30 years ago, when the words, sentences and paragraphs hid from me like brothers in games of hide and seek.  I could find them, but it was challenging, and, like my brothers, they would often run when they saw me see them.   This flood of ideas that renders me immune to writer’s block turns out to be both blessing and curse, for the simple reason that my writing is not just a pastime, but one of several, all of which vie for the attention of the spare minutes not occupied by the privilege of my day job.  There is a certain discomfort–a sense of wastefulness–that comes with the inability to write everything that pops into my head.  Left on the shelf too long, ideas decay.  They turn black and mushy like three-week-old bananas.  I can make banana bread and I can write about sporting events that happened a month ago, but people will only care about the bread. Perspective, another gift for which I am thankful, reminds me that 1) there is not time enough to do everything, 2) that I am happy for doing a lot of things and 3) I shouldn’t waste time worrying about the expiration of undone things.  So I gracefully accept both blessing and curse.  I will write what I can when I can, and take comfort in knowing that these days the ideas are trying to find me. Today is Wednesday.  Specifically it the Wednesday when Duke comes to the Kohl Center to play the Badgers in the Big10-ACC Challenge.  It is the Wednesday that has prompted this question: “Can Wisconsin beat Duke?”  My answer–drum roll, please–is:  I do not know.   But that is not my question.  My questions are these: 1)  Will the Blue Devils be the toughest challenge the Badgers will face in the Kohl Center this year?  2) Do any of Duke’s towering front line players have helipads or tennis courts on their heads?  (And are they in financial trouble?)  3) Was Krzyzewski always pronounced Shashefski or did one of Mike’s ancestors check the box on the legal name change form that said keep same spelling, just change pronunciation?  4) If the latter, was it done to confuse telemarketers or just sportswriters? Not all of these questions will be answered tonight, but the game  will show us how Wisconsin stacks up against the bigs.  It has been awhile since that really mattered, because the bigs, Michigan State excepted, were in the ACC, the Big East (of course), the Big 12 and elsewhere and the Badgers only had to contend with the Big Ten, which is not considered big by everyone.  This year the Big Ten looks to be big enough that it is impossible for the Badgers to contend.  Already, respectable showing in Maui acknowledged, Wisconsin is an NCAA bubble team, if that.   So why am I not worried?  I am not worried because the UW basketball program has had unprecedented success in this decade, and a down year won’t kill us.  Mostly I am not worried because Bo Ryan does impossible about as well as anyone around.  People know that because you often hear the naysaying punctuated with a qualifier like this:  But Ryan’s teams have surprised us before.  Would I put money on Wisconsin beating Duke?  Not a buck.  On the other hand, I wouldn’t bet more than the price of my game ticket on Duke beating Wisconsin.  For sure it is wishful thinking, but I say, Let the surprises begin.     Tonight all eyes, ears and voices are on basketball, but there’s a bit more football to play.  You could argue that meaningful college football is over, but you could not argue with me because I would quickly agree with you, though I admit that it would be meaningful if I were wearing shorts, sandals, a loose-fitting, hibiscus-adorned shirt, and shielding my eyes from the brightness of a sandy Hawaiian beach.  Rewind to reality . . .   I made it to Northwestern for Wisconsin’s last Big 10 football game.  It was a solo adventure, but I was glad I went.  The demons of 1994 were officially exorcized.  Though the Badgers failed to capitalize on multiple opportunities to take a lead the fourth quarter, it was just the battle I sought, with tension, anticipation and drama.  It wasn’t Hawaii, but it didn’t rain.  I was not late for the game because I rode my bike from the downtown parking ramp to the nearest stadium  entrance.  I was the only one in Ryan Field carrying a bike helmet, but it was worth it for the great parking spot.  I scripted my first series of bathroom breaks so I didn’t have to miss large chunks of the game waiting in line to pee.  Did I mention it didn’t rain? It took most of four quarters to find tangible signs of the 1996 Dyche Stadium renovation.  Besides a prominent feline statue near the south end zone, it appears that the entire $20 million went to make signs indicating that the name of the venue had been changed to Ryan Field.  Oh, and I think they added two more portable toilets.  Other than that it’s pretty much the same place. My purchased seat, which I bought on line from Northwestern’s ticket office the night before the game,  was under the upper deck situated between massive metal support beams which not only supported the upper deck but obstructed the view from scores of seats to either side of mine.  Though I myself could see from end zone to end zone, it was a bizarre perspective, like watching the game on a two-foot-high, 100-foot-wide television.   The beauty of Northwestern is that nobody cared where I sat.  Even in a big game, there were plenty of seats for everyone in most sections.  After about ten minutes I moved over to the Wisconsin side, and I do mean Wisconsin had an entire side.  First I sat with college students, most of whom had no idea what state they were in (drunken is a state, but that’s not what I meant), so I wasn’t worried I would be pegged as a trespasser.  Whenever the Badgers threatened to score, which was most times they had the ball, I just moved to the corresponding 10-yard-line for an up-close-and-personal experience.  Most of the time I was not disappointed.   My analysis of the outcome was that the better team won:  1) Northwestern’s spread offense was well executed and unpredictable.  2) It’s defense was beatable, but stepped up big in the last three series of the fourth quarter.  3) Wildcats QB Mike Kafka was the best player on the field.  4) My early season prediction that our defensive secondary would be our weakness, was dead on.  You will argue, as you often do that the Badgers should have won, but gave it away with two late turnovers.  You know my reply:  teams that should have won would have made fewer mistakes.  I have nothing bad to say about John Clay or Scott Tolzien.   They are only guilty of trying to win.  The kinda sorta red lining on the day was that hapless Michigan (love the sound of that) lost to OSU, so Wisconsin’s loss did not cost a conference title trophy.    When it was over, I wondered how it could be that Northwestern, with its ramshackle pit of a stadium, high-school-size (albeit enthusiastic) fan following, dyskinetic marching band and lofty academic standards, could recruit a better football team than Wisconsin’s?  Then it hit me like a succulent slice of Chicago deep-dish pizza:  Lou Malnati’s deep-dish pizza.  I had a slice of Lou’s before half time, and it was worth the trip to Evanston.  I guarantee that you can not get better stadium food anywhere in the U.S. and I am pretty sure giving this pizza to prospective players is an NCAA recruiting violation.  Malnati’s calls itself home of the BEST Chicago-style deep dish pizza in the world.  It is not the best, but it is the second best.  The best deep-dish pizza in the world comes from Pizzeria Uno (not the wannabe unranked Madison franchise) in Platteville, Wisconsin, but Malnati’s is good enough that henceforth I will refer to Ryan Field as Lou Malnati Stadium & Pizza.              I close with some NFL notes: 1) I thought the two key defensive injuries (Al Harris and that guy from Iowa) would seal Green Bay’s fate, but the Packers are very much alive–so much so that I look forward to watching the again.  2) I called the NFL to complain that the Packers only get to play Detroit twice.  That’s just wrong.  3) The worst possible news for Brett Favre was revealed on Monday Night Football: The Saints are for real.  New Orleans may lose, but it won’t losing to the Vikings.  You can say you heard it here:  Favre has the only Super Bowl ring he will ever have.  4) I don’t take as much pleasure in that prediction as you might think. 5) At least Favre has a ring.  He should be thankful for that. _____________ Nothing But Iron is an amateur sports column.  The author apologizes to his wife for not having had the foresight to be in Hawaii this week.  The designation of Platteville Pizzeria Uno as best pizza in the world is based on the opinions of the author, his entire family, most of the population of his home town of Cuba City, Wisconsin, and the views of Chicago native and self-described pizza snob, MJ (not the basketball player) Tillquist, but it not based on Crust Championship Series (CCS) computer rankings, which rank Boise State Pizza & Ribs ahead of both Malnati’s and Uno.  ©2009 DrTM Enterprises. All rights reserved, including the right to eat either of the two best pizzas in the world without sharing.