Bumped. - BN Eds.
My life as an avid Bruin basketball fan has not been great for the past couple of decades. From the glorious heights of the program's past, the fall within me has been precipitous. I'm torn, right down the middle, between cheering for my school and hating what the program has become. As noted by Nestor, Class of 66 has expressed my angst perfectly.
"From the moment we hired [Alford] I have been unable to make an emotional investment in UCLA Basketball. It's an odd feeling - I am such a rabid Bruin fan it scares my wife when I go nuts during games. But, sadly, I just don't care."
Unable to get behind the program's current leadership, I began looking for other ways that I might channel some of my Bruin passion. I began parsing names associated with the athletics department, trying to see if there were any hidden meanings buried within the names. I was rewarded in this regard.
I found quite a few relevant anagrams, words formed by rearranging the letters in the names. No, I'm not that clever. I used wordsmith.org's Anagram Server (Advanced) to do my letter crunching.
Here are some anagrams of UCLA Athletics' current leadership, with possible interpretations in brackets.
Daft Resolve [Possibly explains Alford's confounding substitution patterns and allocations of playing time.]
Favor Eldest [Seems to contradict why Bryce should get so many minutes, and Kory so few, but he may be thinking that keeping people off guard gives him an edge.]
Sad Leftover [From the Golden Boy of Indiana basketball to, well, today.]
Stephen Todd Alford
Doth Fends Rape Dolt [Casts doubt on, or even blames, the rape victim.]
Defend Sport Lad, Tho [But, comes to the rapid and steadfast defense of the charged rapist.]
Fled Darned Hotspot and Fled Tornado Depths [Escapes Iowa.]
Then Sport AD Folded [ What Dan did, after being turned down by Stevens, lazily and carelessly offering essentially the same contract to a much lesser coach, and one with character issues.]
Traded Shop Tenfold [Swapped a ho-hum position in the coaching ranks for the pinnacle of college basketball, UCLA.]
Portend Def Sloth AD [The move to UCLA foretold a "def," as in "tone def," and lazy Athletic Director.]
Defend Sloth AD, Port [A tip, from Morgan Center insiders, to Alford on his arrival at UCLA: The AD likes imported sweet red wine from Portugal.]
Gourd Earner [I don't think there is any doubt about this one. With all the doughnuts he has packed away, Dan has earned his shape.]
Argued "No Err" [From his baseball playing days, said to be Dan's common reaction when a grounder was hit his way.]
Ogre AD Rerun [Describes Dan's contract extension rather well.]
Nu-Aged Error [Yep. That's Dan.]
Now, I had to take some liberties here. I do not know that Dan's full name is "Daniel." While you can learn the full names of most public officials on the web, for some reason, Dan's always comes up as just plain "Dan." You know, a regular guy, someone you'd want to have a beer with. Yeah, right.
But, even if Dan's full name is not Daniel, I think after viewing the following anagrams, you'll agree that it should be.
Lardier "Our Gene" [That is, a more rotund extension of the Chancellor's policies with regard to sports.]
Euro Ring Leader [Tuscany and Chianti are calling.]
Drearier Lounge [Pretty well describes Pauley Pavilion these days.]
Our Enlarged Ire [The response of many loyal Bruin fans and alumni to Dan's leadership.]
Our Glee Drainer [Now, doesn't this just say it all?]
The best anagram of "Gene Block" is, I think, "Gene Block." With his medical training, I think the Chancellor should Trademark the name, and use it as the brand name of a contraceptive device.
And, yes, I've used that line before. So, I have the shame of quoting myself.
Gene David Block
Gold Backed Vein [The Chancellor has experience with two types of veins--the red kind and the more important, monetary kind.]
Back Gelded Vino [Gene's tacit approval of Dan's Chianti trips.]
Danged Cove Bilk [The ramming of an unwanted hotel ("Cove") down students' throats.]
The Morgan Center
So far, we've just been pecking at the surface. When it comes to embedded connotations, all of the above are mere child's play. When you stop focusing on individuals, and give your attention to the entirety of the UCLA Athletics' administration, you broaden your horizons of hidden implications many times over. Wait until you see what a treasure trove of anagrams "The Morgan Center" yields. Hang onto your hats.
But, first, I want to make it clear that I am not making fun of the Morgan Center's namesake, J. D. Morgan. Mr. Morgan may not have been the perfect AD, but he was pretty damn good, and he was leagues ahead of the current one. So, all of the following applies to today's Morgan Center.
In analyzing anagrams formed from "The Morgan Center," you notice that they can be grouped into sub-topics. Either by name or by implication, some of them pertain to the Chancellor, some to the AD, some to the MC, as a whole, and so on.
Group: Gene Block
"Me, Trenchant Ogre!" [On one of the rare occasions when the Chancellor cut loose at a party, he reportedly climbed on a table, beat on his chest, Tarzan style, and shouted these words. Reportedly.]
Merchant Gene Rot [Describes the changes that have occurred at UCLA due to the Chancellor's unrelenting focus on those with money.]
"Rotten Gene" Charm [Describes the Chancellor's ability to hide real motives, especially when addressing issues that concern students.]
Cement-Grant Hero [See "Danged Cove Bilk."]
Group: Dan Guerrero
"Enter, Get Monarch" [The sign on the door to Dan's office at The Morgan Center.]
Change Tormenter [Describes what Dan puts fans through when it comes time to make a change in coaches.]
Goat Trenchermen [See the following re "trenchermen," and wasn't there something about Dan and goats in the past?]
trenchermen noun, plural trench·er·men.
1. a person who enjoys food; hearty eater
2. archaic a person who sponges on others; parasite
"Cream Gent Throne" [The name of a special chair that Dan uses for scarfing down jelly, custard, and cream-filled doughnuts.]
"Monarch, Greet Net" [What Dan tells himself when he logs into the "Word from Westwood," once every four months or so.]
One of the words that you can extract from "The Morgan Center" is "norm." Norm, as in the usual, the status quo.
Cheat Regent, Norm [Pull money from student fees, so as to fool the Chancellor and the Regents that your department is operating in the black.]
Gene Chatter, Norm [An emphasis within the MC on speaking flowery platitudes about the Chancellor, and letting everyone know how brilliant you think he is.]
You find several anagrams that denote dedications and celebrations in "The Morgan Center."
Acne Regret Month [Just to show that they, you know, care.]
Regent Care Month [A month dedicated to sucking up to the Regents.]
Reneger Act Month [An internal celebration, within the MC walls only, to celebrate going back on their charter to work on behalf of students.]
Gene Crater Month [A month to celebrate the Chancellor's role in lowering expectations.]
Group: Clothing, uniforms
Because the word "garment" is included in "The Morgan Center," I was interested to see if it told any stories about UCLA's handling of Bruin attire, for students and/or for teams. It did, for both.
Coherent Garment? [A question, whether or not UCLA garments are consistent and systematic, with regard to official school colors, logos, icons, fonts, traditions, and quality.]
Ten-Garment Chore [The number of jerseys to order and give away at the Rose Bowl, so as to honor, say, a really special kid whose life was cruelly snuffed out much too young. Yeah, ten, that ought to be enough.]
"Recent Garment, Oh!" [The public's reaction to Adidas' latest killer nouveau, hip-chic uniform change, part 1
"Garment, Cheer Not!" [The public's reaction to Adidas' latest killer nouveau, hip-chic uniform change, part 2.]
"One Retch Garment!" [The public's reaction to Adidas' latest killer nouveau, hip-chic uniform change, part 3.]
Garment, Hence Rot [Describes the Morgan Center's disdain of tradition, and the turning over of iconic UCLA uniform designs to a bunch of fashion divas with no clue as to what the icons mean, and with even less respect for them.]
Regret The Conman [What we wish the Chancellor felt about our Athletic Director.]
The Great'r Conmen [Edited: I felt bad about applying this to "the Morgan Center staff, in general." I'm sure that many fine men and women work there, and it's not their fault that their boss is a stooge. Hence, The Great'r Conmen applies to the head stooge and those who do his bidding--his since-departed deputy stooge (see Bellerophon), and whoever currently occupies that position.]
Gee, "Torment Ranch" [As fine a nickname for the Morgan Center as you'll find anywhere.]