11:58 EST, 8:58 PST, 4:58 GMT
A normally reliable source recently shared the lamentable news that basketball fever is on the wane in the Hoosier state.
Next thing you know, some Midwestern blue-blood, red-bleeding big shot digs into his designer pockets and pulls out $550,000 so dear, old IU can jettison serial windbag Kelvin Sampson with peace of mind. That sounds like passion to me. I’m talking Gene Hackman, Dennis Hopper, Jimmy Chitwood and unlikely-Hollywood-endings passion.
Perhaps, as a griping member of the desk-bound proletariat, I am in no position to fathom this anonymous donor’s generosity. And while the fourth estate’s defenders of public virtue struggle to put Sampson’s notorious weakness for NCAA-prohibited phone calls (577 in four years! Kelvin must be a world-class drunken dialer) into context against the polluted backdrop of college athletics, I got more pressing worries troubling my little mind.
Like 1) how much must a college basketball fan, however affluent, hate the incumbent coach to fork over more than half a million just to kill the guy off? And 2) how much anonymous cash would be required to take down Czar Joepa?
And 3) will this fuckwad with too much money and too little sense be getting the same $600 rebate that I’m gonna get in the spring?
Really, I need that $600 if I’m gonna do my patriotic part and get out to Wal-Mart and stimulate this sagging economy. A guy who can spend $550,000 just to kiss off Kelvin Sampson, he must have other resources when it comes to getting our economy back on its feet again.
Damn. It would be nice to have an offshore tax shelter worth in the mid-nine figures right about now. Wouldn’t it?