In which Deaf Gahan sets us straight about the naming rights.

Desperately we seek solace through satire. As always, satire begins with the unreality of real life.

Throwing Reisz: The Jeff M. Gahan Luxury Government Center keeps the emphasis on buildings, as opposed to people.

While the rest of us were preoccupied with a luxury city hall, the Floyd County Parks Department was stealing a march on His Deafness's NA City Parks unit.

Ah, but the Deafster was on top of it all along.

"You haven't factored in the Romeo Langford Municipal Complex. First reading coming soon as soon as Barksdale puts us over the bar."

In other words, Monday.

For more Hon. Deaf Gahan, visit Twitter.

This is the scariest Romeo Langford story you'll ever read.

Don't worry, amateur (?) hoops obsessives -- the author delivers "good news" in the sense that he believes Romeo will be attending Indiana University. I'm the only crackpot insisting on knowing what his major will be.

Why Romeo Langford Appears to be Going to Indiana + Senior Year Mix Tape, by Mike Schumann (The Daily Hoosier)

But back to that April visit to Bloomington. It is really one of three things: (1) part of the decision process, (2) a confirmatory visit, or (3) they are making the trip to tell the staff that they are going elsewhere. Which of these, after all this time, seems the most likely to you?

Rather, this passage is the terrifying part.

Tim Langford also stated that the family would like to make the announcement “out in the community“, perhaps with the mayor of New Albany (an IU graduate) involved.

If you'll excuse me, it's time for a shower.

I'd hate to see Langford sully his stellar reputation by indulging the mayor in what would amount to being co-opted as a re-election campaign prop.

Don't do, Romeo.

As an aside, I'd pick Vandy. As Bluegill dreamed the other day, Romeo could go to Vanderbilt, get an education and then play his way through the top-tier Europe leagues.

Billy Reed on New Albany's Romeo Langford.

Goebbels grins broadly from his desk in Hell. 

With the Indiana class basketball (see below) tournament about to begin, it's the perfect time of year to recall my checkered career of clubhouse lawyering, otherwise known as "my time in high school hoops."

ON THE AVENUES: String music?

However, the son just wasn't wired for that kind of pressure, at least during those hormonally-charged years, and surely it is indicative of my fundamental disconnect that while I always enjoyed the games themselves and still do, my favorite book about sports was (and is) Jim Bouton's "Ball Four," which celebrated baseball while exposing the vacuous and inane nature of jock culture.

Bouton directly spoke to me, fervently and personally. I fancied myself a thinker, not a sweathog. I'd have gladly settled for "lover, not a fighter," except that I hadn't been able to convince girls of my credentials in the former, and in truth, doubted whether any such talent existed, and so it came back to me and my brain against the world.

So, while I'm fond of reminding New Albanians that it would be wonderful if they paid closer attention to matters of genuine significance, like the decisions made by local government, I much admire Billy Reed as a writer, and therefore when he says Romeo is in the house, I can accede with grace.

It's all about the words, and not the distractions. Reed is laudatory, and also provides the necessary context. That's what great writers do.

Billy Reed: Romeo, oh Romeo, legend in the making, where will you go from New Albany? (Northern Kentucky Tribune)

... But on this night, special electricity crackled through the 4,500-seat gym, where fans sat cheek-to-cheek on the hard bleachers and the overflow spilled over into the aisles the fire marshal be damned. It was an eclectic crowd of old-timers and kids, but they were bound by something more than just a rivalry game.

Romeo was in the house.

That would be Romeo Langford, the 6-foot-5 New Albany High junior who already is approaching legendary status in a state steeped in basketball folklore and history. One recruiting guru has described him as “Damon Bailey with more athleticism.”

Reed also makes a point worth repeating. Hoosiers had a golden goose, and shot it dead.

The main thing that will keep Langford from reaching Bailey’s legendary status has nothing to do with his game. It’s the fact that a lot of mystique was lost in 1998, when the state went from an all-comers state tournament to four divisions. This, in effect, sent Cinderella into retirement.

As a sophomore last season, for example, Langford led New Albany to the state 4-A championship. That’s nice, but it’s not the same as being the ONLY state champion. As we learned from the movie Hoosiers, the essence of high school ball in Indiana was the enduring dream of a small rural school coming to the big city and becoming champs of the whole state.