Bagging the bracket, the best earned trophy for a wrestler
Situational toughness - The Cape wrestling team placed third out of 16 teams last weekend at the Grapple at the Brook Invitational in Springbrook, Md. Max Norquest was the 126-pound champion and got to take the bracket home to his bedroom. An official weight class bracket with your name written in as champion is the greatest trophy in the sport, but it’s hard to find a lamination machine that will plasticize it for eternity. “Say, has anyone seen my 103 bracket around?” “Yes, Poppy (now 270), it fell behind the beer refrigerator in the garage. I saw it three years ago when I was chasing the opossum with a garden hoe.” Self-awareness, fitness and strength, lean muscle mass, flexibility and craftiness with every match and an entirely different battle is what I like about the sport. And really good guys can lose to another good guy in a tournament, deal with the disappointment and get ready to wrestle back for third place. And like many other sports, most fans who travel to away competitions you will know by their first names. Cape will host a young Dover team coached by Aaron Harris Wednesday, Jan. 20, at 7 p.m.
Pundits and consultants - I’d like to hear a teenager respond to the question, “So, what are you doing this summer?” ”Mostly, I just do consulting work.” I hear that from adults and I mostly respond, “Really, you mean paid for your expertise, telling others with actual jobs the best way to go about doing them?" I speak at lots of banquets, my calling card reads “Funny for no money.” But seriously, we have become a nation of second-guessers, from politics to sports. All day long the airwaves are filled with voices whose job is to criticize those charged with making real-time decisions. Politics are so bad they're unwatchable - do you want a dose of Bill O’Reilly or Chris Matthews? - but sports is worse. Satellite radio stations are led by loud young male voices who obviously never played and never coached, but they can talk all day long about clock management and game planning. It’s no wonder coaches and athletes hate these people.
Shut up, Peyton - Years ago I read a story about the first time Peyton Manning took over the huddle at the University of Tennessee. He called a play and reviewed everyone’s job before breaking the huddle. A big old tackle interrupted him, "Shut the F up, Peyton!” Now I wish Peyton would shut up, from Papa John’s pizza to trying to implant the Nationwide Insurance jingle in my skull. I feel like Laurence Harvey in the Manchurian Candidate like for no good reason I’m going to go out unsure of my underinsured self and just buy more of it.
Counter connection - I was standing at the counter at Cape High last Friday morning when Delaware football coach Dave Brock walked through the door. I introduced myself, which brought no hint of recognition to coach Brock’s face, although secretary Amy Gooding pretended to be impressed. I assume coach was there to see Bill Collick and inquire about next-level players Brandon Nixon, Brent Reed and Mike Williams. I mentioned, “I’m a Temple guy.” Brock retaliated, he served three years on Diamond Street from 2002-04 as offensive coordinator. Temple, under coach Bobby Wallace, was a combined 7-28 over those three years. Wallace was replaced by Al Golden for about 700K to serve on Diamond Street then Steve Addazio who after two seasons bolted to Boston College and now Matt Rhule who earns about 3 million a year to serve on Diamond Street. The Blue Hens are 17-18 the last three seasons under Brock including 11-13 in conference and no post-season play. Main Street in Newark can be as tough as Diamond Street in Philly if you don’t win - maybe not at night.
Snippets - The Mariner boys' basketball team is 7-0 with four games to play led by Cory Barnes and Joe Joe Kirby. The season ends with the Capital Classic Tournament at Dover Central. That tournament is no joke. Congrats to Dylan Sharp for being named Lewes Fire Department 2015 Firefighter of the Year. Coming off a record four days in a row with no sports coverage. Like a leap year, that won’t happen again in four years unless Planet Fred gets knocked out of solar orbit and starts showing up at wrong venues during wrong seasons or, more likely, shows up but won’t get out of his truck. Go on now, git!
