Who Me?

They just don't make tennis rackets the way they used to.

Have you ever seen so many defective rackets? Watch a tennis match these days, like the one down under this week. Nearly every time a player miss hits a ball (you do not want to type miss hits as one word, by the way) she or he stares at the racket as if it came from Mars. Does it have a hole? Was it miss strung? Is the handle broken? Is it warped?

What on earth could have sent that ball sailing into the crowd?

A similar problem has emerged in college basketball. Nobody fouls. Ever.

This virus was once confined to the NBA, but now it has spread to the college game. It seems every time a referee blows a whistle, he has seen something happen that did not happen. The offending player looks utterly amazed. Shocked. Stunned. Vilified.

Me? I wasn't anywhere around. I was staying at my mother's house that night. Home with the flu. Had to work that night; check with my boss. Couldn't have done that; I was in Cincinnati.

In the words of Dr. Suess: Who me? Couldn't have/wouldn't have.

The rackets are no good. The fouls are bogus. My mother never loved me. I didn't know the gun was loaded. I thought it was flax seed oil. Who could have imagined people would stop buying cars that get 15 miles to the gallon when regular hit $3.50? I didn't know the intel was lousy.

-- John Lofflin