Brigham Young and Indiana Football: Messages Being Sent

    I have been following these programs for decades. Go back through my blogs, (the Foxports ones wiped out, that were produced by me from 2006 to 2009, then deleted), or this one since 2014. I love them both, I pay attention and at times chronicle them. It has been rich, at times thrilling, satisfying, and frustrating and even heartbreaking. Alas, the loves of these teams and players.

    This past year, or two now, Curt Cignetti has brought a mythic or epic chapter to the Indiana football and national lore. Wow.

    Whether he defends the crown by reloading and re-conquering the college football world this coming season, the now legendary coach has immortalized himself within the pantheons of college football leaders and gurus. LaVell Edwards, included. More on him and them later, the Cougars of the Inter-Mountain west.

    Indiana! Our Indiana. The largest alumni base in the world and perhaps one of he longest suffering ones. Ah, so many hard years, difficult decades of losing and defeat. To Purdue, to Michigan, to Ohio State, to Penn State, to Iowa, to Illinois.  To Kentucky!

    Cignetti has done it. He is who he said he was. He is a winner. Google it. Purdue sucks! And so does Michigan. Fighting words. He backs it up.

    He has done it, and proved that a smaller, weaker, historically outside of the power brokers school can do the unseemingly and the erstwhile impossible: the whole enchilada, a perfect 16-0. Never been done before. Will it ever be done again? Maybe later this season. Maybe in another 100 years. Maybe never.

    Indiana, the little school gone big, has done it for an also ran. Wonderful. Love it. I grew up there.

    But, there are certain football schools where there are greater messages than sheer greatness in victories and accolades, the rugged strength and poetry ran on the grid iron. There are the messages and meanings behind the specialty schools, if you will. There are deeper waves than this, narratives that go beyond and above mere secular superioruty.

    Which are they? Notre Dame. A Roman Catholic school, representing Christianity and the priesthood, the authority or grace of God ensconced in the halls of its institution and the higher powers of grace and sublime, divine beauty. Embodied in a gold helmet and the magical luck of the Leprechauns. The Irish. Not named by accident or happenstance.

    Boston College. The lesser known private Catholic school, that largely respresents greater New England. The Hail Mary of Doug Flutie meant more. That is a Hail Mary, in its truest sense. Rosary beads and ave marias were answered in upsetting the mighty powerful and Satanic, worldly, crass, swaggering Miami Hurricanes. Praise the Good Lord and death to the blashphemous heathens.

    Texas Christian University. Evangelicals of Texas. Hummana hummana. (Maybe the first time I have spelled this?) They have had some good teams. I will always remember the huge Horned Frog enthusiast at a far off military base who swore like a sailor, especially in reference to his team. He was Army, but the curse words were robust and replete. Praise You Know Who, Dad gummit.

    All right, you see I am being farcical, right? Although, admittedly, within all humor and most jokes there is some or much truth. Yes. BYU calls these guys a rivalry, since the Mountain West days. Or even the expanded WAC?

    Southern Methodist University. Another Protestant school. Once upon a time a great program, and not too bad the last few years. The number one plurality religion in my home state of Indiana. We like the United Methodists better, but these Methodists have their causes. The Great Commission of Christ, and run that ball into the end zone.  Mustangs have some punch.

    Baylor University. Perhaps not as Baptist as they once were. But they provide some talent and punch. Come to think of it, maybe everything in Texas is tinged with Christianity. Even the Longhorns (hand signs may symbolize deeper meanings), Tech and Rice. But not Texas A & M. Then again, they have the Twelth Apostle and the military connection, which is totally about Onward Christian soldiers.

    Liberty University. The Flames. They are the new evangelicals on the block, southern and east coast style. Growing bigger. Next up: Grand Canyon out in Arizona. Nothing yet, but now with Kennesaw State and a dozen other schools making Division I in the last decade... 

    Before the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and its sponsored football franchise (which is the main point of this post), I must pay deference and respect to these speciality colleges. Not just state, not just private, but our sacrosanct military academies.

    Army. The Knights. They play much more than football. They stand to for the flag and will lead us into defense of our great nation.

    Navy. The Midshipmen. I loved them more when they had Coach Ken Niamatolo as their head. Moves these guys most times in Annapolis. Except when they have hurt my Hoosiers.

    Air Force. The Cadets? Hmmmm... No, the Falcons. I have always rooted for them when I did not see them playing and at times upsetting my BYU Cougars.

    I have to say, all honor and tributes to our servicemen who play the sport. They have special duties and privileges, They cannot compete as they used to, back after World War II when winning national championships. The Army had a few decades of dominance. No more. But we love them and wish them the best.

    And lastly, my soldiers. The Cougars of Provo, Utah.

    We have my favorite of all: the Brigham Young University Cougars. They have special rules and regulations, and a special mission. To represent the Church, the school, and in the end, Jesus the Savior Himself. Sound pretentious? Well, that is the ultimate goal. Serve Him, work hard for God, and follow His rules. Some of those objectives and guidelines are anathema to today's modern secular and other nominal religious lives: no pre-marital sex. No drugs or drinking or even caffeinated coffee or tea. No cursing. No playing or working (when possible to avoid) on the Sabbath. Sundays are not for college football or BYU.

    We have the priesthood of God. We have the restored Gospel of Jesus, the Son of God. Lost for years and needed righting. We proclaim the Book of Mormon and additional holy write beyond the Bible, which is for our moder day. The last days. 

    As much as Brigham Young, the historic figure of the 1800s, can be reviled or frowned up, us members revere his name as a pioneer and an prophet of God in the last times. He helped prepare the way for our faith to be established and succeed. The Church he eventually led after the death of Joseph Smith in 1844 is still going strong in 2026, perhaps better than ever?

    We shall see the destiny of this faith and people. The religious folks with their temples, their missionaries, their sometimes ridiculed or so-called antiquated ideas and ideals.

    The BYU football team embodies and exemplifies these virtues and hopes.

    They try. We try.

    The last three years have been pretty good.

    Could this be their year?

    If they play Indiana in the College Football playoffs at the end of this season, 2026 or 2027?

    Sorry, my homestate resurged Hoosiers. I love you to death, but I want my private school Cougs to do it. No one picks BYU to go all the way.

    But who knows? Kilani Sitake and the God above, and foremost its players, may have something else in mind.

    Go Cougars! Go Hoosiers!

    Go Army, Navy, and Air Force!

    Long live the brave and the true.

    

    

 Smart People and My Town

    Where I grew up we had a lot of smart people, and a lot of talented folks, and many of the people in public schools were less than stellar, less than what would be many of our paradigms as to what we aspired to be. But I would say most of us would have examples near and far, close by and off in the distance throughout the world, that we would wish to emulate or be like.

    We had each other to bounce off of, and books and television, magazines and articles to glean from. Music, theatre. Our parents were sources of some culture, of course. Our religious communities and sports. We in Bloomington were free and had access to so much. Like much of the rest of the world, I would say especially in the Western dynamic of capitalism and limited democracy, republican federalism or whatever we call it.

    Freedom to learn, carouse, sing, dance, compete, work.

    Robert Bosch and Roy Wroth, (Roth?) were some smart guys, I knew only in smaller contexts, in neighborhoods farther than mine.

    My neighborhood fellows and friends were all pretty smart, too. Mant children of academics, some of whom would be academic literati in their own rights. Some of us joined the military, which worked for benefits and early job opportunities that later flourished into good or perhhaps great careers.

    Bloomington, and Indiana, and the United States has proven a place of accomplished dreams and hopes.

    Most of us went on to success. Were we good enough then or now?That can be debated. Some of died in the past years. That tragically defines some of our outcomes.

    Jason in doing well. That of the Elm Heights area, but after we had letf the elementary school. His name ends with a V. Thanks to one of my sisters, I have spoken with him off and on the last seven or so years.

    Pete and Jake have done well. Seth and Paul, I imagine so.

    What about me? I married well. I have good kids. I have some savings.

    I have written some things. Who knows?

    I will continue working, writing, living.

    And think of some smarties in my home town.

    I think James Marsh was one, a year of me. Died in 1998.

    My boss considered him a dear friend.

    

 East of Eden - Masterpiece In Art and Ideas

    I read it back in... 2002? I stayed up a night or two, like in the bathroom in the hotel in Williamsburg, reading it so I could return it to my sister, because of the zeitgeist surrounding it...

    I want my wife to read it...

    I am not sure if she will like it.

    It is a great book.

    Well written, well crafted.

States Been in More Than One Month

 I have lived in six states, which minimum is over two months. In the United States.

I have been in many states combined more than a month. Maybe 8? Maybe more.

Massachusetts.

New York.

Pennsylvania.

North Carolina.

South Carolina.

Louisiana.

Texas.

Arizona.

Washington.

Possibles…

Maryland. At least 30 days, not sure how many nights.

Kentucky?

Illinois?

Georgia?

The last three perhaps 3 weeks each?

Least? New Hampshire. Passed through a few times as an adult, maybe stayed as a baby.

Mississippi. One night.

 Reasons for Sorrow, Reasons for Hope

    Maybe some folks are desperate. Perhaps there are billions? Some people in the United States are poor, or distraught (despite the millions of money they may have), with mental or physical issues, or problems outside of the norm. For instance, brain cancer. A dying spouse, or a loved one far away. Maybe there is a sailor on a ship for many months who is despondent, or perhaps someone in their home is being persecuted or displaced.

    Some people are hungry. I gave away an Army MRE (meal ready to eat) to a beggar on the street. He waits for our traffic to stop at some lights in the in the bigger city.

    We have many reasons to take great hope.

    Many.

    I can name many.

    I will later.

When I Feel Less Than, or Inadequate, it Should not Lead to Depression or Envy

    But it can. It does, for some moments. Or hours. Maybe days.

    However, some things will shake me from the doldrums. Others. A book. A song.

    Life and work, maybe family or wonder.

    I am not that bad.

    I can be really good!

    I can be high and hubristic.

    Not the best, prideful and pompous. Or more likely vain.

    Vanity, and wrong feelings.

    And maybe sloth and gluttony enter in.

    As we may be.

    This is how we can be. Could be.

    We are.

    I dance like a fool.

    I can think like one, too.

    We all do, and can.

    But: I may be redeemed.

    I will.

    And I will not think that that guy or that guy is so much better than me, and I less desirable.

    I am desirable, too.

A Favorite Author for Every Genre, Every Time

A Favorite Author for Every Genre,  Every Time, Every Place

    I asked a few teachers who their favorite authors were. English teachers. Henry David Thoreau, Toni Morrison. The English teacher from Peru was about... Juno someone? Well, at least a Dominican. But I think he is more into English. And Star Wars.

    When the two ladies asked me, I was kind of stuck. But then I replied: my favorite war author is Jeff Shaara. Yeah, that is an answer.

    But I have favorite authors for others things, all the other types.

    Right.

    Sci-fi? Arthur C. Clarke.

    Etcetera.