Of contracts and such

 One of my best friends grew up in the Detroit 'burbs, and, because Detroit is Hockeytown, his family has had Red Wings season tickets since goalies started wearing masks or something. A long time, in other words.

Anyway, for years, their seats were next to an odd duck named Bob, whose chief characteristic was a virtually impenetrable pessimism. No matter how bright the silver lining, Bob never lost sight of the cloud. He therefore became known as Black Cloud Bob.

Which is taking the long way around the barn to say I guess you could call me his spiritual kin today.

The other day, see, Indiana University handed first-year football coach Curt Cignetti $64 million (and potentially $72 mill) to continue coaching the Hoosiers through 2032. This is on account of the fact Cignetti is 10-0 right out of the box and has the Hoosiers ranked fifth in the country, their highest ranking since the Rose Bowl season 57 years ago.

All the reports on this development have said essentially the same thing: Indiana has "locked up" Cignetti with a long-term deal.

My take: This is great news. But locks can be picked.

This is not to say Cignetti, at 63, is going anywhere any time soon. But coaches' contracts aren't worth the paper they're printed on these days, which means the "locked up" part is only theoretical. Some high-gloss program comes calling with a bigger wad, Coach Locked-Up will become Coach Jailbreak before you can blink twice. 

It happened to Notre Dame three years ago, when Brian Kelly kicked out a window and escaped to LSU. And if it can happen to Notre Dame, it can surely happen to Indiana.

Of course, the whole idea of extending a coach's deal is to put a firewall between the coach's current school and any potential poachers. The longer and fatter the deal, the more a competing school (or pro team) would have to pay to buy out a coach's contract.

 That was undoubtedly Indiana's goal in making Cignetti not only one of the highest-paid coaches in the Big Ten, but the highest-paid employee in the school's history. That, plus Cignetti's age, should almost certainly keep even the wealthiest poachers at arm's length.

Still ...

Still, almost certainly is only almost certainly. So it could happen. Has before, after all.

In which case, I guess you can call me Black Cloud Ben now.

Or, you know, a few less printable names.