Deep Conviction – Hoosier Deep Throat Says Wildcats Are Toast

We got the call, as we knew we would, just after midnight.

It was Hoosier Deep Throat. He was hard to hear because of a grumpy voice in the background, a voice we would have recognized if we weren’t so focused on the news that scientist had discovered a world with basically the same temperature as earth, which means life might be out there hundreds of light years away, which means maybe the Storm Trooper outfit we still have hidden in the closet from our teenage days might one day be fashionable again and …

Sorry.

We managed to understand that Hoosier Deep Throat had big news about Saturday’s Indiana-Kentucky basketball game and wanted to meet us at a secret basement location in a secret level of the Wells Library.

“Just follow the torn blue pieces of a Kentucky t-shirt,” he said with more glee than an adult male should have.

So we did. The shirt pieces led down some stairs to a brown door marked –- DANGER NO ADMITANCE -- that was wedged open by a tattered blue stuffed Wildcat that looked like it had been chewed by a pitbull. We went down more steps, into a cigar-smoke-filled room lit by a single, flickering light bulb, past a wall that listed the scores of every Indiana victory over UK, until we came to a shadowy closet the light couldn’t penetrate.

Inside, was the glowing end of an expensive Cuban cigar. Somewhere behind that end was Hoosier Deep Throat.

EDITOR’S WARNING: Hoosier Deep Throat uses raw language normally reserved for Metallica concerts and Bob Knight soliloquies. Brace yourself.

“I got the scoop,” Deep Throat said. “The Hoosiers are going to attack the (bleep) out of Kentucky on Saturday. They’re going to the rim and those (BLEEPING BLEEPS) won’t know what the (BLEEP) hit them. The Wildcats are going to be in SUCH foul trouble Calipari’s gonna be crying to the refs like a baby!”

“Calm down,” we said. “Take your time.” We didn’t want him working himself into some kind of seizure.

“CALM DOWN! Are you (bleeping) kidding me? Do you know how (BLEEPING) big this game is. Given what’s happened the last three years, this might be the biggest game in the program’s history. Students have been camping out for days outside Assembly Hall to be first in line for good seats. They wanted to pitch tents, but the air heads at IU, who continually screw up good PR opportunities, told them no. You think they’re calm!”

“How on,” we said. “IU officials resolved all that. They gave the students vouchers so they could be first in line as long as they gave up the camping idea. Deputy athletic director Scott Dolson said it was done for their safety and to ensure they were focused on academics. Finals are next week.”

Deep Throat puffed rapidly, as if he was sending smoke signals.

“What did the students think about that?” he asked.

“I think some were disappointed. I think they wanted to camp out in this cold weather.”

“I think students are tougher than what officials give them credit for,” Deep Throat said.

While Deep Throat talked, we heard that voice in the background. This time we recognized it. It was Bob Knight during a recent ESPN segment. When asked by Digger Phelps about IU’s unbeaten start, Knight said this time of year a lot of teams are undefeated because of easy scheduling. He never mentioned Indiana. It was a not-so-subtle shot by a man not known for subtly. The tape was being repeated over and over again, as if Deep Throat was using it to fire himself up even more.

“Kentucky basically only plays seven guys,” Deep Throat said. “Seven guys! Foul trouble is gonna kill them faster than you can say, ‘(Bleep) the BCS. The Oklahoma State football team got screwed!’ God, I can’t wait!!!”

What looked like drool dribbled to the white tiled floor. Deep Throat was apparently frothing at the mouth, either from excitement or rabies. We weren’t sure we could tell the difference.

“Did you hear his radio show?” Deep Throat asked. “Oh, we’re gonna kick (BLEEP)!”

“Whose radio show?”

“Tom Crean’s, you idiot. He wants his guys to kick (BLEEP), and they are nasty enough to do it!”

Deep Throat tossed what was left of the cigar on the floor, stomped it into oblivion and lit up another. Waves of brown smoke rolled toward us like a tsunami.

“I think what he said was he wanted his players to block out by putting a full body on a Wildcat and not an arm or just part of a body,” we said. “In other words, rebounding will be big.”

“Don’t give me that politically correct crap. He said he wanted to kick some (BLEEPING BLEEP!) And it’s gonna happen!”

We nodded without conviction. We knew the odds of an IU victory were slim. Kentucky’s roster is loaded with future NBA players. The Hoosiers have one right now in Cody Zeller, although others might develop into pro potential.

UK coach John Calipari maximizes his talent. Love him or hate him, he wins big and often, thriving with great recruiting and developing players in the short time he has them.

Crean talked about the challenge on his radio show when he said, “They're a very difficult team, no question. They're highly athletic. It's a big rim team. Everything starts with how you protect the rim.”

This isn’t new. Since the early 1990s, Kentucky has had the athleticism edge over the Hoosiers.

“Indiana’s going to have to defend like it hasn’t in years,” we said. “And Crean said it will have to push the pace. Going slow won’t work.”

“You’re God-damn right!” Deep Throat said with a ferocity that made the drool understandable. “Everybody has to buy in and go. If not, Crean has will sit their (bleeps).”

Crean has often talked about his depth this season, reiterating on his radio show that, “My best friend, as much as I love my family, as much as I like my coaches, is the bench.”

Yes, the bench helps because, as Knight famously once said, it sends a message to your rump which in turn sends a message to your brain to play harder and better.

Will that help against Kentucky? Certainly. Will it make a difference? Perhaps.

Logic suggests the Wildcats will win by eight or so points, but logic doesn’t always win games. Heart means something. Home crowds mean something. The ability to respond under pressure means something.

“What are you thinking?” Deep Throat asked, his tone suggesting where he’d stick his cigar if we gave an incorrect answer.

We hesitated.

“That the Hoosiers are gonna kick some (bleep),” we said, conviction giving way to prudence, and Deep Throat’s laughter echoed through the basement like an Assembly Hall cheer.

And then, he was gone.