This has always been a big deal for WJOB radio. In the 1980s when I first worked here, we would broadcast radio from Hammond Civic Center, Calumet and other sites. By late Saturday night, WJOB sports director Mike Farkas would gather us for beers. It didn’t matter if you weren't 21.
It is Hoosier
Hysteria
not a malaria
that takes over our minds
and snout. Time out.
Radio AND TV
All told, we’ll broadcast dozens of games in the tournament, this time on TV. It’s our duty. The interest and momentum of Indiana high school basketball is not what it was when I played in the 70s or started broadcasting in the 80s. Something is missing. I don’t know what it is. I just hope to do my part to help remind Hoosiers that the tournament is good and pure and beautiful and we should pay more attention.
To that end, we’ll be bringing the tournament to TV. We’ll rotate between five sites – Crown Point, Portage, Hammond, Calumet, Lake Station - and send the games to:
This is not a moneymaker. It costs a ton of money to hire people to run cameras and switchers. Broadcast rights are expensive and it takes a lot to develop and maintain websites and Roku, etc. But this is not a short-term business proposition. It’s a mission, and at least a dozen hungry young broadcasters are following me into it.
The mission is this – let’s strengthen the bond between local high school basketball teams and their communities. Can TV help do this? If people see their teams on TV, will they feel more a part of their school and come out to the games? This may take a few years to figure out. But it worked for minor league baseball, the Big Ten Network, lacrosse, and more. Hope it works here.
Undiscovered lore
makes you smile.
The mustiness of books
beats fishing for Chinooks,
even at dawn.
Trump
Dawn won’t come for hours, but right now you could go to any number of cable or web channels and watch coverage of Trump. He, our president, commands our attention at all times.
This week, the president’s longtime personal attorney, Michael Cohen, promises to tell Congress some tales about the president before he was president. It’s all over the TV tabloids.
So is the president’s trip to Viet Nam to meet with the North Korean leader, who got there on an armor-plated train. They’re set to talk about who can have nuclear bombs and who can’t. This is infinitely more important in the long run than who wins the Lake Station sectional.
Finally, the Mueller report is expected to come out. This is an investigation that’s been going on for two years. Robert Mueller, an independent sort, has been probing like hell to see if the Russians influenced the 2016 election and if anyone associated with the Trump campaign had anything to do with it.
As the three or four of you know, we also write this blog for broadcasting students at a small liberal arts school on the East coast 50 years from now. They will know what happened with nuclear bombs and the Mueller report. For us, it’s a mystery.
Each beloved hour
passes quickly.
Next thing you know, you’re caught
picking raisins out of
your wife’s stuffing.
Wrenched back
Through a combination of stupidity and age, I wrenched my back. It hurts to lie still and it hurts to move. Deep breathing is not an option. A few years ago I got into a nasty whirl with a truck tire outside Stoughton, Wisconsin. Ever since, more often than not, when I have things to do, my back goes out.
This situation was not helped by my overriding passion for JEDgolf. I made this up 25 years ago and have been doing it ever since. You take one club and a couple of balls and you either run or briskly walk the course. The proper way to score it is to combine your strokes plus how many minutes it takes you. That’s if you’re playing alone.
But I didn’t play alone last Sunday. Minnow Smith, Billy Falloon, Sean Jacoby and little Tommy Philpot joined me for JEDgolf at Palmira Golf Course in St. John, Indiana.
A good time was had by all in 10-degree weather. It was especially exciting to walk onto frozen lakes and ponds to hit your ball. I did this, slipped, split my legs, and fell on my ass, further injuring an already aching back. Sean Jacoby caught part of on camera. You can see it in a photo above.
Recurring thought
that winter sucks,
we’ve taverns, TVs, dread.
“It could be worse,” it’s said.
“We could be dead.”
Who knows where we’ll be by the end of the week. Lowell could have won their first sectional in forever and President Trump could be cleared of all suspicion. My back could be better and local communities could rediscover some of the lost beauty of the Indiana high school basketball tournament.
Either that, or by next Saturday night I’ll be lying in bed on pain pills wondering what went wrong with our broadcast coverage and if our president is going to be impeached or not. It’s a mystery.
Crocheted blanket
from your daughter
in New York means a lot
on an icy morning
in the Region.