It’s the Pitts

In the wake of St John’s humiliating defeat in the ridiculously named Empire Classic – which is as far as I can tell is the Holiday Festival with a head injury – a reader writes:

Fun:

What’s it like to be right all the time? Last year when you wrote that

Coach Homerun is plummeting downward. I’d say we’re rapidly approaching Willie Mays getting plonked on the head after circling under a fly ball in center field circa 1973 except Willie Mays was one of the greatest baseball players who ever lived, whereas Mike Anderson is Jeff Capel’s idea of a good idea, and Jeff Capel is an imbecile. If only shovel-faced AD Mike Cragg had called former NBA superstars Cherokee Parks or Shavlik Randolph for advice, things might have turned out differently. Oh well.

I thought you were crazy. Whereas it turns out that you were as usual prescient.

Your biggest fan

Aubie.

Well Aubie – if that is your real name, it seems made up – being a super genius isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Consider: if someone with an IQ one standard deviation above genius goes to the grocery store and has to deal with a clerk with an above average IQ, that’s like a person with an above average IQ going to the grocery store and dealing with a clerk with an extra chromosome. It’s no wonder I drink like it’s my job. If I had a job that is.

So the answer is: being right all the the time is exhausting. It’s like that Twilight Zone episode where Jesse Cardiff (Jack Klugman) beats Fats Brown (Jonathan Winters) at billiards and ends up playing one tomato can after another in a dingy pool hall in Sandusky Ohio:

“Mr. Jesse Cardiff, who became a legend by beating one, but who has found out after his funeral that being the best of anything carries with it a special obligation to keep on proving it. Mr. Fats Brown, on the other hand, having relinquished the champion’s mantle, has gone fishing. These are the ground rules in the Twilight Zone.”

But it’s true, I am almost always right, thanks for noticing. With which comes a special obligation. Which is why I’m glad I wrote for example last year of Coach Iron Mike Anderson’s fugazi system that

If throwing a bunch of two and three star recruits onto the court to play 40 minutes of pressure defense was a winning formula (a) at least one other person would do or have done it and no one has or does and (b) it would have worked for Anderson more than twice over the course of his long career and at least once this decade. Whereas Anderson’s last real and almost only success was in 2008, when he made the Elite Eight at Missouri.

concluding that

Good players and good basketball have been inevident over the past two years and I fear will continue to be inevident for as long as Mike Anderson is coach. Because if you look at this basketball team, this much is evident: the half court offense stinks, the half court defense sucks, and the players are mediocre, and if his recruiting thus far is any indication they’re likely to remain so.

Not to mention that I was spot on about dopey Mike Cragg.

We have to thank for Coach Third Choice shovel-faced Athletic Director Mike Cragg. Or more properly Jeff Capel – a wunderkind 30 and 36 in his first two years at Pitt – who Cragg called for advice after his first two head coaching choices – former dookie Bobby Hurley and a Midwest mediocrity called Porter Moser – played him for a fool and laughed in his face, respectively. Capel allegedly told Cragg that Anderson would be a home run, although whether for Saint John’s qua Saint John’s or for Capel’s NYC recruiting prospects is anyone’s guess. Having been so advised, Cragg pounced. That that pounce saved Saint John’s from head coach James Jones is cold porridge.

Regarding whom (Cragg) I chastised his relentless ball-washers at Redmen.com, or as I like to think of it, home of the worst most ignorant basketball fans on the internet:

Cragg’s entire professional success is based upon his ability to parrot “Yes Coach Screwshrenski, of course Coach Schewshevsky, whatever you say Coach Kruszevsky.” Because having stepped into a dynasty at dewk Cragg’s signature accomplishment was not fucking it up by having anything approaching an original thought, which is why it’s fitting that his major accomplishment in his tenure at dook was overseeing the 18 million dollar construction of the Mike Ksrushevski Athletic Center, 18 million being 17 million more than Redjedef paid for the Sphinx at Giza.

I could go on, but modesty prevents me.

So to recap.

1. I was right, as usual.

2. Being right all the time is both boring and exhausting.

3. St John’s sucks and will suck for as long as Coach Third Choice is coach, which he will be for a very long time, peter-principle imbecile poster boy Cragg having rewarded his 15–22 (.405) in conference record with a five-year “extension for St. John’s turnaround” (quoting here the idiot @NYPost_Brazille) worth about 15 million dollars.

4. If you think it’s bad now, wait until next year, after Posh transfers to Nebraska.

And to all a good night.

Your pal

Fun