The Unwritten Rules

At the tail end of Minnesota's monumental and costly victory over the Denver Nuggets on Saturday night, beautiful maniac Jaden McDaniels was by himself with the basketball under the opponent's basket. There were two seconds left. The Wolves were up 14. Another basket was unnecessary.

McDaniels casually flipped the ball into the net, increasing the lead to 16 and causing Denver's Nikola Jokic to play defense for the first time this series. The annoyingly talented oaf charged McDaniels, outraged by the latter violating one of the NBA's unwritten rules--don't run up the score when the outcome is no longer in doubt.

In almost every organized sport, there are unwritten rules that function as a kind of secret handshake code of conduct for the participants. In baseball, if your pitcher hits a batter with anything approaching intentionality, someone on your team is getting plunked in the ass next time up. Hockey has so many unwritten rules that someone wrote 20 down and rated them. I don't pay attention to NASCAR much, but I assume Jeff Gordon broke all the unwritten rules because everyone hated Jeff Gordon even more than the one guy who killed a guy.

To the layperson or non-fan, this likely sounds ridiculous. That is because it is. Unwritten rules aren't written down because they are deeply, deeply stupid. "Don't touch the goalie" sounds hilarious BECAUSE IT'S HILARIOUS. Does he have The Andromeda Strain? Is he ticklish to the point where he pees himself? Doesn't matter! Touching him is against The Code!

(Sidebar: Grown American men of a certain age will shed a waterfall of tears talking about Barry Sanders handing the ball to the officials after scoring a touchdown. It's fucking weird! He was probably just tired from pinballing 130 yards across the field on a 24-yard touchdown because the Lions always sucked.)

I bring these unwritten rules up because I've been handed a list of three other unwritten rules from a source I trust but cannot reveal due to the sensitive nature of their business. I share them with my Midwest Excellence subscribers at no small cost to my safety. Please understand the sacrifice I'm making for you.

• "COACH" FOR LIFE: No matter how meager your coaching experience, older reporters will call you "Coach." Special teams assistant in charge of practice punt retrieval for the 1997 Watertown-Mayer Royals? Coach. Fired after compiling a scandal-marred 3-25 record at West Knoxville Tech? Coach. You are "Coach" the rest of your life, regardless of any other formal title (Senator, Doctor, Pope, etc.).
• QUARTERBACK WITH A LIVING CHILD'S NAME & BIRTHDATE TATTOOED ON HIS CHEST OR BICEP: He splits custody at best. At best. The mother will be on "Real Housewives of Ann Arbor" in 2029. He will endorse a Christian energy drink that turns out to be a pyramid scheme.
• "HIDDEN GEMS": Influencers and social media types are required to call every restaurant they cover a "hidden gem." These hidden gems are all easy to find, have their own websites, and charge $22 for a Manhattan. The only actual hidden gems remaining are suburban chain restaurants. They're on a hard to access frontage road, if you miss the exit you're going to spend 20 minutes battling back to get there, and they've never once slid across your Instagram Stories. Is this because one of their reasonably-priced cocktails is made with Mountain Dew? Probably. One of my bar industry friend's favorite spots is the Texas Roadhouse in Woodbury. Get the Rattlesnake Bites.

I could go on, but there's so many out there it's impossible to catalog them all. It's the Monday morning rush hour as I type this, and there are currently three active unwritten rules being observed at every four-way stop. You know exactly which ones.

See you tomorrow!