Monday Morning Mayhem (Sorta)

Before we get started with another rasher of foolishness, some Coming Attractions.

Later this week — like in a day or two — yours truly’s anxiously anticipated, nationally heralded predictioneering about the upcoming college football campaign shall be revealed.

Seedy K’s Peerless Preseason Pigskin Prognostications are but hours away. So too, hopefully, arrival of my brickbat resistant armor from that Bezos fella. Then, because that’s really nothing more than an appetite whetter, next week come my ever prescient Week 0 game predictions.

Wyoming vs. Illinois. Vanderbilt vs. Hawai’i. Nebraska vs. Northwestern, from that hotbed of American football, Dublin, Ireland. And more, perhaps.

And don’t tell me you won’t be watching. I know better, ready to pounce, should I in the unlikely event prove incorrect.

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Speaking of football across the pond, do you want to hear about yesterday’s West London Derby at Stamford Bridge between my faves, Tottenham Hotspur, and their hated arch-rival Chelsea?

Of course, you don’t.

But what if I told you how as heated events unfolded during and after the action, I was reminded of a specific U of L hoops game against the Cards’ egregiously disliked nemesis from down the road?

Maybe not, and if that’s the case, feel free to skip the next couple of paragraphs and move on to the next section. Which frankly, given it’s the dog days of August, you might not find any more interesting.

So, before yesterday, the two EPL clubs had played sixty times. Twenty draws. Thirty three Chelsea Ws. Seven victories by the Spurs, who hadn’t scored against the rival in their last nine encounters.

Oh, get to it Seedy, these blokes and blokesses could give a shite. So, the ref doesn’t call an obvious foul on a Spur. Tottenham ties the match about a minute later. The coaches on the sidelines — Chelsea’s Thomas Tuchel and Tottenham’s Antonio Conte — are pushing each other, in each other’s face, and have to be separated by a sideline official and assistant coaches.

Chelsea regains a one goal advantage about five minutes later. Tottenham knots it at 2 on a Harry Kane header off a corner kick in the final minute of the six added for extra time. (Don’t worry, I’m not going to explain that odd protocol where playes don’t really know exactly when the game is going to end until they hear the ref’s whistle.)

During the usually perfunctory post game handshake, one or both the coaches won’t let go. They start jerking each other’s arms, and pushing each other. Until again, others have to separate them. Each is handed a red card.

Since for me when it comes to sports most things relate back to U of L hoops, I immediately thought of the Cardinals/ Cats game when Jared Swopshire got into it with DeMarcus Cousins about two minutes in, what a decade or so ago at Rupp.

Ah, sportsmanship.

* * * * *

Moving on, there’s this comparative when considering the basketball/ football conundrum, which many here in hoops country feel doesn’t make sense as pigskin drives the whole conference realignment weltschmertz.

I read somewhere that CBS paid the SEC $350 million to televise 13 Saturday afternoon games. While during the same recent academic year the ticket they had to pay to televise 13 league basketball games: $10 mill.

That, mes amis, even I who has never been real good at math can tell is a big difference.

Huge, in fact.

Which is why the Sooners and Longhorns and Trojans and Bruins jumped at the opportunity to eschew tradition, geography and loyalty to join the Power 2. Big Ten commish Kevin Warren could care less about all those banners hanging in Pauley Pavilion.

And why U of L, Wake Forest, Boston College and some other “lesser brands” in the ACC are contemplating how to strengthen the wall around Clemson, North Carolina, Miami and Florida State.

* * * * *

During the ACC Network’s televised stop and chat interlude in the Ville, Mark Packer echoed the thoughts of college football savant Phil Steele in expressing significant confidence that the Louisville Cardinals will resurge this coming gridiron season.

* * * * *

National scribe Pete Thalmel — I’ve lost touch where his latest stop is, though that’s where I read this — listed coaches on the Hot Seat in each league. I’ve always referred to them as being on the Dead Man Walking list.

He opines that Syracuse mentor Dino Babers is the only only in the Atlantic Coast whose seat is “hot.”

Of Scott Satterfield, he states the situation is “worth monitoring.”

As I’ve said until you’re tired of hearing it, I personally don’t believe Satt’s in as precarious a position as many Card fans do.

However, the situation shall be monitored.

— c d kaplan