I stood upon a fence post near the hallowed TC practice grounds this week. I gandered upon likely the most dysfunctional array of coaching my 4 eyes have seen this century. As I peered through the vents of the fence, mediocrity seemed the accepted habit forming. One bright spot, the new construction is coming in nicely, even if it leaves the jackets with a field the size of foodland’s grassy knoll. Odd direction we are heading. If TC’s moral compass keeps pointing due west, it’s doomed.