As some of you in the know might know, last fall, when America was at the height of its MilkTime with NIT Stu-induced hysteria, I tried to set up an interview with someone in Iowa’s basketball department.
When I say “someone,” I’m not trying to imply it was Fran McCaffery. It could’ve been anyone. Really. I emailed their Sports Information Director asking for an interview with literally anybody affiliated with the program. I got a reference from a good friend of the blog, emailed the SID, and waited.
I never heard back.
Now, I’m not upset about this. I understand that a Division I basketball team in a major conference probably has their milk consumption very regimented, and that their nutritionists wouldn’t want to rock the boat by having a player, or even a coach, drink an unscripted glass of the divine dairy on a podcast. I never was upset about this. They didn’t have any obligation to me.
That’s why I didn’t throw any curses out there, and why I didn’t declare anyone in the program to be my enemy, as I did with My Sworn Enemy Pat Forde.
No, I went my way, and Iowa went theirs, and two nights ago Fran McCaffery allegedly called a referee a “cheating motherfucker” in a hallway within Ohio State’s arena (I wasn’t there, so I can neither confirm nor deny).
Now, McCaffery has been suspended for two games, and the debate over whether the man is too angry has begun anew.
I’m fairly ambivalent towards McCaffery. I certainly didn’t curse him, as some have privately implied. I think he’s a fine coach—he’s the only head coach to take Iowa to an NIT championship game, which in my book makes him the best Iowa’s ever had, but he’s never won an NIT, despite playing in a league well-shaped to send its middling teams to the greatest of all tournaments.
So that’s my stance. I didn’t curse the man. More likely than not, he was just an angry guy the whole time, always one sequence of disagreed-upon calls in a 20-point loss away from exploding in a blaze of expletives and accusations.
At the end of the day, aren’t we all?
