Bobby’s sports banter

Disclaimer: Any and all opinions suggested in this column are the complete responsibility of the publication; the writer is but a pawn in media propaganda. Unless the column isn’t offensive and is well-liked, then feel free to blame the writer…

Who says sports are a man’s world? They would realize just how wrong they are when visiting Concordia College.

This year, Cobber women’s teams have been top-notch, and they continue to perform well. Both the soccer and volleyball teams participated in NCAA-sponsored tournaments (the soccer team’s was national; the volleyball team’s was regional). The hockey team is off to a strong start. The list could go on when considering individual performances and such.

Now, that’s great and all, but what the people really want to know is their secret. How have women’s sports turned things around so well across the board?

Performance-enhancing drugs? Please, this isn’t Major League Baseball; it’s doubtful any self-respecting, BREW-ing Concordia student would walk that shadowy road.

Do they cheat? Certainly an honest Cobber would not!

Does a higher power have a hand in it? (Think “Angels in the Outfield,” but without Christopher Lloyd and Danny Glover.)

Destiny?

What the lefse is it?! Cobber Nation needs to know.

It was time to put my investigative reporting skills to the test. I went straight to the source: the women of Concordia sports.

In line with what a real reporter may do, no time was wasted in finding athletes and asking the hard questions—I often wait right outside classrooms or dorms and hover around practices. Determination for the search for truth continued onward; Bob Woodward would be so proud.

Yet, the truth proved elusive.

Responses were usually like, “There is no secret; we work hard and we have talent. Now stop stalking me, you creep.” Hmm, interesting. Something was definitely up.

I turned to other methods of investigation.

When no one would be my Facebook friend or answer my calls, I left a message. Or two. Or however many it took to get answers. But to no avail.

Days of waiting, hours of hard work, several accusations and one police report later, the investigation was left exactly where it started. Well, not exactly; it started in my apartment and ended up at the “Crowbar Hotel,” as cellmate Pete called it. But there were no answers.

Could it be like so many of the players said? Was the secret really just some strange combination of hard work and talent? Was there even a secret? Am I really “a creep”?

For now, it’s satisfactory just to revel in the fact that Concordia athletics are successful. But one day, one day everyone will know…

And at least I’m now well-informed on what the United States judicial system considers “stalking.”