Matador Success Could Be Craze

Searching for the true meaning of the football season, we took to the highlands and found guru Oliver Pigskin in deep meditation.

I cut to the chase when he finished humming.

“So, great visionary, what’s in store?” I asked.

He sipped cafe latte, twirled his mustache and nodded.

“Beanie Babies,” he said. “Everyone’s crazy about them.”

Someone had warned me that the old man’s hearing sometimes misfired, so I rephrased the question. He got the gist.

“Let’s start with Cal State Northridge,” he said.

“What’s your take?” I asked.

“If the gate is good, about $1,000,” he said. “Seriously, the Matadors will surprise in the Big Sky Conference. They’re fine at the skill positions and if the linemen come through, they’re in business.”

“But won’t the coaching change affect them? Three coaches in three years, that’s not healthy.”

“Look, we’re not talking black lung disease,” he replied. “The bottom line is players have to produce. As D. Wayne Lukas says, you either have the ponies or you don’t.”

“Anything about Northridge give you a good chuckle?” I wanted to know.

“Oh, yeah, running back Melvin Blue talking about rushing for 3,000 yards,” he said. “Didn’t he notice the Matadors line up with four wide receivers? They’re not there to block for him.”

The guru shifted to the lotus position in his easy chair and whined about an old football injury that wrecked his back.

“I fell off a stool watching the Rose Bowl one year,” he said.

“How does Cal Lutheran look to you?”

“Beautifully tanned,” he said. “Those male-bonding excursions to the beach to start every season can make those guys look like ‘Baywatch’ cast members, but won’t make them play better than Pamela Anderson.”

“That’s cold, great guru,” I said. “I heard they had a great time in Santa Barbara.”

“Let’s see how much they enjoy Redlands in November,” he said. “The Bulldogs are the team to beat in the Southern California Intercollegiate Athletic Conference. Cal Lutheran is middle of the pack.”

It was either the heat or the aftermath of the chocolate doughnuts he kept gobbling during our chat, but the guru was slipping away, so I hit him with the next question.

“Who are the top dogs in junior college?”

“As always, Valley and Moorpark lead the parade,” he said. “The Monarchs and the Raiders should reach bowl games. Although for Moorpark’s sake, hopefully El Nino won’t rear its ugly head again. Poor guys never got to play their bowl game in December at Santa Barbara College because rain flooded the field.”

“How about Canyons?”

“For a new team, they’re no pushovers,” he said, his eyes drooping. “Everyone knew they would have to recruit outside Santa Clarita to have a decent team and they pulled it off. Only about one-quarter of the players are from the immediate area.”

“Wait a second,” I interrupted. “Wasn’t giving local kids a place to play after high school the main reason for restarting football at Canyons? All the proponents said the lads were being forced to drive too far to play college ball.”

“Maybe you should look into it,” he said.

“Maybe, but one thing at a time,” I replied. “What do you know about the Bowling Ball backfield at Antelope Valley?”

“They don’t miss many meals,” he said. “There’s five of them, all under 5 feet 10 and all, except one, is over 200 pounds. One, freshman Kasey Young, checks in at 265 pounds. Gives new meaning to ‘backfield in motion.’ The coach says he hopes they all run like Jerome Bettis.”

“Pierce could use them . . . in the offensive line,” I said.

“Now you’ve done it,” he snapped, waving me off. “Some things are too grim to discuss.”