A VH Retrospective
We'll be posting snippets of commentary from the past year and more throughout this week and next as Volunteer Hoosier winds down.
If VH has a personality, a philosophy, these snippets should reveal it.
The conclusion we have drawn is this: the problems facing our community are not states of nature. They stem from an environment poisoned by actual individuals, individuals who devalue education, deride progressivism, and seek only to elevate their egos by jealously guarding the levers of power from any who might actually want to use them.
Our critics seem to shudder at what they call unfounded personal attacks. They miss the point. They are personal because Volunteer Hoosier believes it is the persons who are responsible for the mess we are in. So long as the citizenry averts their eyes from what is a fairly repugnant form of political knife-fighting, they will never know who those looters and destroyers are. Then, when election time comes and the voters see New Albany sitting by the side of the road with a flat tire, they'll assume the driver is at fault. We're here to show who is wielding the knives, who is spreading the tire-puncturing tacks, who is pouring sugar in the gas tanks.
In hoops-mad Indiana, I offer this little parable:
The basketball team wasn't putting up wins like it once did. Fans of the team, if you could call them that, seldom came out to watch the games, but a few tried to follow the team's progress in the newspapers. The team had frequently excelled, with stellar seasons, numerous awards, and even now it was often envied. But something had gone wrong. Bad wrong.
The coaches were disengaged, and paid little attention to what the players actually did during the games. In fact, all the coaches usually did was submit the lineup. The rest of the time they spent with their backs turned to the game, balancing their checkbooks, talking on their cell phones, flirting with the thought of coaching another team. In fact, the coaches spent more time watching film of other teams than in coaching their own, especially during the season.
Oh, the coaches would try to pay attention to their own team when it came time to fill out the lineup, but because they hadn't watched the team during the season, they were ill-equipped to make the necessary changes to the lineup. Weaker players continued to be inserted into the lineup each time, simply because the coaches didn't know any better.
Reporters seldom commented on the lack of attention by the coaches. Their jobs were to cover the games, and they did so with varying degrees of diligence. Sometimes, the reporters would figuratively phone in their reports, having developed personal ties with some of the players. Accordingly, readers of their reports would often find a game report elevating the importance of a few players' contributions at the expense of the real game stars.
You see, many of the players on the team had earned a nice living for many years without making any significant contributions. When the coaches were making out the lineups, they spoke glibly of their long tenures on the team and told the coaches how great they were. These players knew they had never had to SHOW the coaches how great they were, but they had become very good at TELLING how great they were. Having a reporter parrot those tidings didn't hurt, either.
One season (not so unlike some earlier seasons), some new reporters began to show up at the games. These new reporters had seen the game played, but never like it was played on this court. They began to report the games the way they were, and even asked the coaches to explain why this team played the game so differently from other teams.
For the most part, the coaches couldn't answer the reporters. Some of the coaches were mystified. "Isn't this the way all teams play the game?" they asked. "Not hardly," said the reporters.
With the coaches' attention diverted, the players ran the games, but each player had a different goal, and not enough of them had any interest in the team.
The coaches had named a team captain, but many of the players felt they were more deserving of the captaincy. As it turned out, the captain knew the game and played the game with more skill, more knowledge, and a greater sense of team than many of the players.
When the captain had an open shot, he sank it more often than not. But the captain knew a one-person team couldn't win as many games as the captain knew the team was capable of winning. So he tried to get the team to play together.
"No dice," said four of his teammates. When those recalcitrants were in the game, their resentment and envy of the captain's greater skill came out in spades. This "Gang of Four" made it their mission to stop the captain.
One game, the captain tried to give these other players a chance to show their stuff. Instead of taking the shots, he would hold back. Instead of driving the lane, he'd hand off the ball and try to set a pick. That game went miserably. When the captain would toss the ball to an open player, the player would jerk his hands away and watch the ball sail out of bounds. Instead of an assist, the captain would be charged with a turnover. Instead of an easy basket, the team would have to retreat to defend its own basket.
That wasn't always the case, since the team had enough players who understood the concept of team, and the captain led the team to many victories. But it wasn't easy.
When the players's shoes wore out, the captain said "let's buy new shoes." The gang said no, but the players voted to do so anyway. So the gang stole the laces, and the team's next game was a disaster. They slipped and fell and dropped balls. The captain pointed out that the laces had been stolen, but the reporter who was a pal of the gang somehow left that out of his story.
The coaches, naturally, turned to the captain when they read about the game (that was one where the coaches were flirting with the cheerleaders instead of paying attention to the team). "Coaches," said the captain, "we played a pretty good game, but without shoelaces it was pretty rugged."
The coaches said they weren't pleased with the ragged play. The gang piped up to point out that it was the captain's fault.
Game after game, it seemed, the gang found yet another way to sabotage play, and while the team continued to rack up wins, the quality of play suffered.
The season is still ongoing. It remains to be seen what the coaches will do. But the fans are watching, and they're yelling at the coaches to pay attention.
Tomorrow, we'll begin the retrospective as we wind up our affairs here at VH. We will maintain the archive, but beginning April 1, if all goes according to plan, VH takes its talents on to a larger stage. All that remains to close the deal is a slight wrinkle in the financial details. That should be settled sooner, rather than later. Thanks for reading and commenting all along the way.
If VH has a personality, a philosophy, these snippets should reveal it.
The conclusion we have drawn is this: the problems facing our community are not states of nature. They stem from an environment poisoned by actual individuals, individuals who devalue education, deride progressivism, and seek only to elevate their egos by jealously guarding the levers of power from any who might actually want to use them.
Our critics seem to shudder at what they call unfounded personal attacks. They miss the point. They are personal because Volunteer Hoosier believes it is the persons who are responsible for the mess we are in. So long as the citizenry averts their eyes from what is a fairly repugnant form of political knife-fighting, they will never know who those looters and destroyers are. Then, when election time comes and the voters see New Albany sitting by the side of the road with a flat tire, they'll assume the driver is at fault. We're here to show who is wielding the knives, who is spreading the tire-puncturing tacks, who is pouring sugar in the gas tanks.
In hoops-mad Indiana, I offer this little parable:
The basketball team wasn't putting up wins like it once did. Fans of the team, if you could call them that, seldom came out to watch the games, but a few tried to follow the team's progress in the newspapers. The team had frequently excelled, with stellar seasons, numerous awards, and even now it was often envied. But something had gone wrong. Bad wrong.
The coaches were disengaged, and paid little attention to what the players actually did during the games. In fact, all the coaches usually did was submit the lineup. The rest of the time they spent with their backs turned to the game, balancing their checkbooks, talking on their cell phones, flirting with the thought of coaching another team. In fact, the coaches spent more time watching film of other teams than in coaching their own, especially during the season.
Oh, the coaches would try to pay attention to their own team when it came time to fill out the lineup, but because they hadn't watched the team during the season, they were ill-equipped to make the necessary changes to the lineup. Weaker players continued to be inserted into the lineup each time, simply because the coaches didn't know any better.
Reporters seldom commented on the lack of attention by the coaches. Their jobs were to cover the games, and they did so with varying degrees of diligence. Sometimes, the reporters would figuratively phone in their reports, having developed personal ties with some of the players. Accordingly, readers of their reports would often find a game report elevating the importance of a few players' contributions at the expense of the real game stars.
You see, many of the players on the team had earned a nice living for many years without making any significant contributions. When the coaches were making out the lineups, they spoke glibly of their long tenures on the team and told the coaches how great they were. These players knew they had never had to SHOW the coaches how great they were, but they had become very good at TELLING how great they were. Having a reporter parrot those tidings didn't hurt, either.
One season (not so unlike some earlier seasons), some new reporters began to show up at the games. These new reporters had seen the game played, but never like it was played on this court. They began to report the games the way they were, and even asked the coaches to explain why this team played the game so differently from other teams.
For the most part, the coaches couldn't answer the reporters. Some of the coaches were mystified. "Isn't this the way all teams play the game?" they asked. "Not hardly," said the reporters.
With the coaches' attention diverted, the players ran the games, but each player had a different goal, and not enough of them had any interest in the team.
The coaches had named a team captain, but many of the players felt they were more deserving of the captaincy. As it turned out, the captain knew the game and played the game with more skill, more knowledge, and a greater sense of team than many of the players.
When the captain had an open shot, he sank it more often than not. But the captain knew a one-person team couldn't win as many games as the captain knew the team was capable of winning. So he tried to get the team to play together.
"No dice," said four of his teammates. When those recalcitrants were in the game, their resentment and envy of the captain's greater skill came out in spades. This "Gang of Four" made it their mission to stop the captain.
One game, the captain tried to give these other players a chance to show their stuff. Instead of taking the shots, he would hold back. Instead of driving the lane, he'd hand off the ball and try to set a pick. That game went miserably. When the captain would toss the ball to an open player, the player would jerk his hands away and watch the ball sail out of bounds. Instead of an assist, the captain would be charged with a turnover. Instead of an easy basket, the team would have to retreat to defend its own basket.
That wasn't always the case, since the team had enough players who understood the concept of team, and the captain led the team to many victories. But it wasn't easy.
When the players's shoes wore out, the captain said "let's buy new shoes." The gang said no, but the players voted to do so anyway. So the gang stole the laces, and the team's next game was a disaster. They slipped and fell and dropped balls. The captain pointed out that the laces had been stolen, but the reporter who was a pal of the gang somehow left that out of his story.
The coaches, naturally, turned to the captain when they read about the game (that was one where the coaches were flirting with the cheerleaders instead of paying attention to the team). "Coaches," said the captain, "we played a pretty good game, but without shoelaces it was pretty rugged."
The coaches said they weren't pleased with the ragged play. The gang piped up to point out that it was the captain's fault.
Game after game, it seemed, the gang found yet another way to sabotage play, and while the team continued to rack up wins, the quality of play suffered.
The season is still ongoing. It remains to be seen what the coaches will do. But the fans are watching, and they're yelling at the coaches to pay attention.
Tomorrow, we'll begin the retrospective as we wind up our affairs here at VH. We will maintain the archive, but beginning April 1, if all goes according to plan, VH takes its talents on to a larger stage. All that remains to close the deal is a slight wrinkle in the financial details. That should be settled sooner, rather than later. Thanks for reading and commenting all along the way.
posted by All4Word at 9:58 AM
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