Nothing But Iron: The Fall and Rise of Joe Pa by Steven R. Lagman, M.D., C.A.S.W. November 4, 2005 This has nothing to do with sports, except that shopping is the hardest sport ever. I had a nightmare on Halloween night, probably triggered by the consumption of the special chocolate assessment I levied upon my two trick-or-treaters as they returned home with bags full of useless calories. As usual they offered mild protests of this tax, until I pointed out what a good deal it is for them–a few Twix and couple (maybe couple dozen) Kit Kat bars in exchange for room, board and ultimately use of a car and college tuition. My nightmare: I was in a department store trying on clothes, clothes and more clothes. Shirts with buttons and cardboard inserts and stick pins. The suffocating claustrophobia of the dressing room. Pants on hangers with silver clips. Black and navy blue that were virtually indistinguishable. Oh, the horror. I was relieved to awaken, wearing not a mauve cardigan, but a familiar Nike t-shirt with a hole in the sleeve. Hoping to fend off a recurrence, I tried to imagine being chased by a chain-saw bearing psychopath in a goalie’s mask as I drifted back to sleep. The next subject really has nothing to do with sports, but it’s pretty good kid humor, so I share it. I noticed Connor had a picture of Stonehenge on his Windows computer desktop. I asked if he knew what it was. Stone hedges? O.K., close enough. I then asked if he knew how it got there, pointing out the massive stones and reminding him that there were no cranes in the time it was believed to have been constructed. He said he had no idea, and was satisfied to learn that nobody knows how it got there. A moment later he returned, grinning ever-so-slightly. "Dad, I know how it got there," he offered. "I clicked on properties and selected it." Speaking of Stonehenge, the Badgers beat Illinois, as projected. Well, not exactly as projected. I never doubted the outcome, except for about 23 minutes, during which time Tim Brasic looked like Michael Vick’s twin cousin. The fact that Illinois’ once-infirm offense put up 538 total yards against the Badgers can easily be explained by extrapolating from theories published on the origins of Stonehenge. One possibility is that alien beings were involved. The upshot of giving up so many yards is that the Badgers are now 8-1, pretty much like I predicted back in August (see Nothing But Iron: I Really Think the Badgers will be 8-1 in November, unless I already erased it). Tomorrow the Badgers play Penn State in Scary Valley. I refuse to worry because Penn State has a really old coach who will probably forget to exploit Wisconsin’s defensive shortcomings, not to mention quarterback Michael Robinson, who most experts agree is no Tim Brasic. Unlike Illinois, Penn State has a defense, so matching scores with the N-Lions might not be on the menu. So how can the Badgers possibly win, thereby maintaining a share of the conference lead? Something unpredictable will have to happen, that’s how. This is possible because such events, according to Sportscenter, occur several times every season at various locations around the country. That’s all I have. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking November 13, 2004. Michigan State 49, Wisconsin 14. Season over. Stop that. The biggest difference between this year and last is the perception–fair or not–of this team overachieving and last year’s underachieving. Even if Wisconsin loses–as most teams have done in Happy Valley in 2005, the Badgers are still in the midst of excellence. Besides, how could any football fan fail to appreciate the success of Joe Paterno, who just three months ago had one foot on the shuffleboard court? Way to go, Joe. On to the Packers. The biggest question I have is this: Will 10-6 be good enough to make the playoffs? O.K., enough teasing. I can say with sincerity that the Green Bay Packers are my favorite 1-6 team in all of football. They could have mailed it in against the Bengals, but I saw an effort that was far beyond the call of futility. You are mad at them. You want to fire them. But I have to appreciate their tenacity. Excuse me a moment while I put my cell phone on vibrate. The loss to Cincinnati means that five of Green Bay’s six losses occurred when the relative humidity was under 85 per cent, which means the solution to losing is to score more points. In two days I will sit in Lambeau and I will cheer, alongside Arena football fanatic Brent Feller, with the expectation that the Roethlisbergerless Steelers will be beaten. Brett Favre will not let this team give up, even if it comes down to a desperate New Year’s resolution to win a second game in the season finale. All you experts see Favre’s five interceptions as the cause of loss number six. I, for one, will not suggest that Favre change his ways. I admire him for having the guts to throw five picks. Most quarterbacks would crawl into a shell of insecurity after two. I will take a confident Favre, giving his best, over any of the others. Always remember these things: 1) Blessings in disguise can only be identified in retrospect. 2) As bad as things get, we will never have to be Vikings fans. 3) We had it really good for many years, so let’s dispense with the sobbing. I watched with queasiness the replay of Daunte Culpepper’s season-ending, perhaps career-ending injury. First, I want to say I would not wish that fate even on a Viking. I would only wish that fate on a former Viking who is now wiping his butt on goal posts in the AFC West, and maybe on his other brother the Favre-o-philic Terrell Owens. The take-home message is that quarterback is a dangerous position, and rushing quarterbacks, even giant (6-4, 264) quarterbacks like Culpepper, are at high risk, especially when they forego the slide-to-safety option. I hope Culpepper can come back from his injury, maybe reincarnated as a Brown or Patriot or Cardinal or Dolphin. The good news for him is that post-surgical loss of mobility might not keep him from future success in the NFL. He could become a prototypical pocket quarterback. If that doesn’t work, he might have a future as an offensive lineman. Back to college for a minute . . . What are the odds that Penn State’s Michael Robinson, who suffered a concussion in last year’s game against the Badgers, did not see the replay of Culpepper’s injury? I saw M Rob take some pretty hard hits in last week’s win over Purdue. Though good tackling has not been a UW trademark this season, you can bet part of the game plan is to punish any quarterback who carries the ball into the danger zone. I’m thinking Mark Zalewski, Joe Stellmacher, Zach Hampton, and maybe a pinch of Jonathon Casillas. Saturday the UW men’s basketball team opens its exhibition season against division III UW River Falls. We were discussing the Badgers’ prospects with a group of friends. One guy shook his head and said he thought it would be a long year. I don’t think he meant a long successful year with an extended run in the NCAA’s. I offered an enthusiastic dissenting opinion: not many seniors (one, Ray Nixon), but plenty of talent, and a coach whose system is proven. I am not so bold or so stupid that I would guarantee a conference championship or a return to the E8, but there is nothing I have seen so far in the Ryan era, that suggests the Badgers won’t be a very good team by the end of the season. Recommended reading: Michael Silver’s hilarious portrayal of Sherman’s cell phone-inspired tantrum. Link: http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2005/writers/michael_silver/11/04/openmike2/ ____________ Nothing But Iron is an amateur sports column written just in time for the next major sporting event, but probably not in time for Debra’s morning coffee, unless she sleeps in late. The author apologizes that the title of this issue does not accurately foretell its content, but the author does not apologize for not caring enough to change it. ©2005 DrTM Enterprises. All rights reserved.