NEW ORLEANS, LA - JANUARY 04: Head coach Bobby Petrino of the Arkansas Razorbacks looks down in the third quarter against the Ohio State Buckeyes during the Allstate Sugar Bowl at the Louisiana Superdome on January 4, 2011 in New Orleans, Louisiana. According to sources on April 10, 2012, Bobby Petrino will not return as head coach of Arkansas following a scandal involving a motorcycle crash on April 1. (Photo by Chris Graythen/Getty Images)
The strange saga of Bobby Petrino has all but wrapped itself up as his golden haired temptress, Jessica Dorrell, has resigned from her ill-begotten post for the lavish sum of money equivalent to a new Kia. If you are keeping track that is: one powerhouse SEC football program turned upside down, one established marriage ruined, one engagement ruined, two jobs lost, one motorcycle wrecked, and one streak of leaving on ill terms before four years kept alive by Bobby Petrino.
There doesn't seem to even be anything larger to gain by looking closely at this scandal. This isn't the first time an older man in power has played with fire in the form of a younger woman, and eventually had the entire thing blow up in his face costing him his job and family while the young woman became a pariah in decent society. It wasn't a particularly inspired coverup --- especially in the age of the internet --- and it wasn't even that lewd or tawdry of an affair.
That all of this leaves us as a culture at large simply saying "meh" and trying to come up with clever .gifs is a pretty good indicator of just how normal this sort of thing has become, like some sort of salacious mad-lib where a crazed Alabama fan filled in "motorcycle crash", "illicit interoffice affair" and "Bobby Petrino" for (event), (scandal), (public figure).
Petrino will be back, sooner or later. Someone that talented at coaching always gets a second chance. The same can't be said for Jessica Dorrell, and that might be the most unfortunate part of it all: history isn't kind to the women. The job market within college athletics will be even more unforgiving.
Time for some links:
Michigan's Countess looks for more INTs - Countess is also looking for twenty dollars he is sure he left in his pants pocket a few days ago, as well as his copy of Madden that he is sure he lent to Jarrod Wilson, but Wilson claims to have given back.
Brandin Hawthorne's 'heart of a champion' highlights competitive spring for Michigan linebackers - Why yes, I do like competition and depth at linebacker. All this time I wasn't aware that it was an option.
Michigan softball aims to please - Hey, Michigan has a softball team, and it is pretty good as well.
The Next Four Years are Going to be Fun - McCray's response is simply going to be to leave the Ohio State decal on the back of Cam Burrows' car. That is a joke in itself.
A&M fans still getting used to SEC geography - Someone needs to explain to that Aggie t-shirt designer that North Carolina is a superfluous state. Then, probably the definition of superfluous. Maybe the concept of states as well.
Thus the Monster’s great success — and it was one of the most popular defenses in football for at least thirty-years — was as much about psychology as it was schematics; there were unbalanced defenses and there were balanced defenses, but the Monster was uncanny at trapping the unwary coach and quarterback into running into the strength of the defense: Against balanced defenses, the offense wants to run to its strength, or to the tight-end. Against unbalanced defenses, offenses want to run wherever they have a numbers advantage, typically to the weak side. The Monster wreaked havoc with that kind of calculus.
Chris Brown on how the principles of the old Monster 5-2 defense can be found in today's defensive adjustments to the spread offense. As always, Brown is required reading.
The only reasons I ever stopped playing imaginary games of baseball with 3-3/4" action figures are 1) I had to attend school so as to eventually secure gainful employment 2) risk of pariah-ization. Shame is a powerful motivator. I have mostly come to terms with the cold reality that never again will I spend most of my days blissfully alone, laying on my stomach, working out improvisational baseball improv theater on the backyard grass or the den carpet (deemed best because it was green-ish).
Sometimes, out of general kid-effusiveness, I would try to explain to a well-meaning adult, or even another youngster, what was going on in my imaginary baseball games, but it usually elicited blank appreciations of my commitment and very little actual interest, or a suggestion that I go run around the neighborhood or something. I was never really hurt by the lack of interest. Because what the hell were they going to do, watch the game? Keep score? I really only told the others about what I was doing so that they understood what a good idea I’d hit upon. Miniature concrete baseball theater was a one-player game, and I was not especially keen on popularizing it.
If you ever told someone a story about your fantasy football team (guilty) than you should probably read this.