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Roger Grossman
News Now Warsaw

As we begin to transition from summer to back-to-school, I want to spend some time talking about an aspect of sports that no one talks about or teaches anymore.

Today, we’re going to discuss the concepts of winning and losing.

To be more specific, I’m not interested in explaining how you win and why you don’t. I want to help parents, coaches and players with how to handle success and how to deal with failing.

Unfortunately, we hear of more and more instances of family members, coaches and players behaving badly at sporting events.

And in 2026, we don’t just hear stories about these things, we can see them with our own eyes. We can do this because every game in every park and every gym is recorded by someone in attendance.

What happened, what was said, what the response was—all of it—is captured and posted on some social media site like YouTube for people like me to view and digest.

A big part of this is because we, collectively, have lost perspective on what these leagues are supposed to be about. And, as often is the case with the downfall of things, money is at the core of the problem.

Youth sports is big business, and those who profit from it are not interested in losing money. And families spend a lot of money to tap into what these teams promise, which is the road to scholarships and greatness.

Families spend thousands of dollars to put their kids on these teams, and they understandably look at it as an investment in their child’s future.

So when an umpire misses a call or when a referee has to make a block/charge call in a close game, the tension naturally rises.

When that moment seems to make a difference in the result of the game, people lose their cool.

And what used to be just yelling and screaming has gone much farther. It’s now getting physical.

Coaches are pushing umpires. Parents and grandparents run onto the basketball court and knock down officials who never see them coming.

Let’s remember the first and most important role of athletics in life and society—to teach us life lessons that will benefit us into adulthood.

At the head of the list of those lessons should be that the whole point of what they are doing is having fun while they are doing it.

The subpoints to that are learning the fundamentals of the sport and learning to be part of a team.

No matter what the skills you are trying to master, taking shortcuts never works.

And there aren’t too many people in life who will live out their days in complete solitude. Sports team show us how to build relationships. They teach us to sacrifice our own objectives for the good of the collective group. They put our lives into perspective.

Well…they are supposed to, anyway.

Too often, on too many levels, those noble goals of sports have been trampled on in the name of winning above all else.

“What’s the big deal?” you ask.

Well, because winning is not the only outcome possible in a sporting event, or in life.

We don’t teach kids how to lose with grace and class because we don’t want them to consider “losing” as an option.

Our collective ego is often disguised as a “quest for excellence”. People whose actions offend us will almost certainly defend themselves by saying “I’m just trying to make them into winners.”

Let me introduce an idea to you that I think is a better what to get kids to where you want to get them.

I think you will get a lot farther by teaching kids the fundamentals of the sport and then couple that with the joy of competition.

I’d like to see more youth league coaches and parents focus on the thrill and fun that comes from competing and the quest to get better than the outcome of the games.

When that happens, it diffuses a lot of the tension from the scenarios we painted earlier. The ump may miss a call or the ref may miss a travel, but when you have the right mindset before it happens, it doesn’t matter.

I most certainly am not suggesting that sports don’t matter, nor am I trying to draw you into the “everyone should get a trophy” camp.

But things are not going to go perfectly in people’s lives.

They are going to get laid off.

Their spouse or kids are going to get seriously ill.

They are going to have a conflict with a neighbor.

We are not teaching kids what to do when that happens.

The message they are getting from too many of their leaders is that their response includes rage and blame.

That will not benefit them when they get older and helping them grow up to become solid adults should be everyone’s objective.

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If you read the headline, you immediately think, “Here comes one of Roger’s famous columns that covers several topics in a single edition,” right?

Well, you’re wrong this time.

We are actually going to talk about food — specifically my favorite tailgate foods.

Now, I admittedly don’t get to tailgate a lot anymore. I don’t go to as many Notre Dame games as I did when I was single and even fewer since the kids came home.

And I certainly don’t eat in the parking lot before the high school games. I ate too close to one game broadcast early in my career and basically missed the whole game with food poisoning (No, I will never ever tell that story on these pages. Never. Ask me about it sometime and I will give you the shortened version of that dreadful night).

But I still like the food that traditionally is served in the parking lots of football games before kickoff, and just because I don’t eat out there doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.

I am not the most creative, adventurous eater, so the point here is not so much to teach you new and creative things to serve, but to remind your tastebuds of how much fun tailgating can be.

First, we start with the main course.

I can go one of two ways on this: I am totally good with a traditional cookout or with chicken wings.

A cookout is simple, and technology has advanced to the point where there are a lot of portable propane and butane grills out there that are compact but still give you plenty of cooking space to feed a group of people efficiently.

No matter what the makeup of your group is, the combo of burgers, brats and hot dogs is virtually guaranteed to hit the mark.

However, ask me what my favorite pregame food is and I will always answer chicken wings.

Now, we are talking about the traditional, bone-in wings and not the boneless wings. I have nothing against boneless wings, except for the fact that they aren’t “wings” at all—they are chicken breasts chopped up into bite-sized pieces and prepared like wings. And I eat boneless wings a lot! So if that’s what you like, have at it!

But on the tailgate, I want bone-in wings.

Wings do come with their own set of problems, starting with how to do you make them for a tailgate? And what do you do with the bones?

If we’re talking about a high school game or you live close to the game site, then it’s no big deal. But if you are a Purdue fan, for example, and you are making your own wings to take, that’s a long way to drive while trying to keep your wings warm in crock pots or a big cooler.

If you have the ability to run a small generator to plug your stuff into, that’s a game changer.

And make sure you have plenty of dipping flavors on hand. I prefer spicy barbeque and mild buffalo for my wings, but that’s where you have to know who’s coming and what they like.

There is a third option, which is chicken breast. I recommend either buying the thinly cut breasts from the store, or taking a whole breast and splitting it in half lengthwise to help it cook easier.

When it comes to sides, chips are plenty for me, but a lot of you have a go-to dish you like—like potato salad or egg salad, for example. But baked beans are next level.

If you really want to be a big hitter at the tailgate, try potatoes. I am talking about a crock pot filled with broasted potatoes seasoned with a hint of garlic.

If you go the chip route, make sure you have some dip to go with it.

Again, my favorite in the parking lot is a chili cheese dip, but you have lots of options here.

Now, next level tailgating when it comes to sides or chips is the addition of pulled pork or pulled chicken to your dip. For example, adding shredded pork to your mac and cheese or your cheesy chip dip should be a big hit. Having a bottle of high-quality barbeque sauce nearby is also essential for this stop in the food line, even if you don’t have pork or chicken shredded to add in.

Then we need to cap off your pregame meal with dessert.

Again, a lot of ways you can go here, but when you are talking about a football tailgate party, I don’t know that there is a better way to finish off your pregame than with a giant cookie. We’re talking one of those big cookies in the shape of a football with letters written in frosting on top.

Of course, you can always have a collection of various kinds of fruit, and that will be great. But the football-shaped cookie that is cut into squares will feed everyone.

As far as beverages, know your audience and the site. Alcoholic beverages are not allowed at high schools — period.

For college and professional games, please remember that you have a responsibility to those you will be sitting nearby to act in an appropriate manner and not ruin their enjoyment of the game. And make sure someone is the “designated driver” to get your people home safely.

Start meal planning accordingly…and pass the wings, please.

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You don’t have to be a soccer fan to understand the feeling Americans have today over the outcome of Monday’s loss to Belgium.

You don’t have to understand offside offenses or stoppage time.

You don’t have to have ever kicked a soccer ball or learned how to “trap” the ball with any part of your body.

You just have to be a living, breathing human being with red, white and blue in your bloodstream.

From the start, it was very clear that the US was not the confident, secure side that they had been in their first four matches in this year’s event.

They couldn’t pass the ball, and when the pass was close enough to being on target our guys couldn’t control the pass.

We passed it to the wrong person on a continual basis, and we seemed to never have enough guys in the correct positions on defense.

So, the questions that inevitably come up on days like today are, “why” and “how”.

Let me try to help you with that.

Clearly, Belgium was the better “side” (soccer teams are called ‘sides’ instead of ‘teams’ internationally) from the opening kickoff to the final whistle.

They were quicker, they were more skilled, they were more determined and they were laser focused.

And maybe Belgium was better the whole time and not just on this one night. They certainly are a more veteran group than the 11 players the US put on the pitch for this World Cup, but many experts thought that the Belgians’ age might be their undoing in this tournament — particularly in their match with the Americans.

And many of the US players from this year’s roster took the field in Qatar four years ago, so our team was not full of greenhorns by any stretch of the imagination.

And the Americans received the “gift” of getting their leading goal scorer and top offensive threat back from a one-match suspension that is standard with getting a red card.

When a player in virtually every soccer league in the world gets a red card, it carries a three-fold penalty.

First, that player is ejected from that match.

Second, that player’s team cannot replace them during that match, so they finish with one less man. For example: when a player gets red carded in a match, they are out of the match and their team has to finish that game with 10 players. It would be like a hockey team being on a power play for the entirety of the game.

And finally, that player is banned from playing in the next match. They can be replaced in the lineup, but they just can’t play.

It’s a harsh penalty, but red cards are reserved for the worst offenses and repeat offenders.

There is no appeals process for overturning a red card, so there is no one to hear a team’s plea for help when a red card is issued — until last week.

FIFA “suspended” the red card against the US, which essentially put that player on probation for one calendar year.

There was no explanation for how they came to their decision. They just did it.

And that, friends, is why FIFA is viewed as the most corrupt sports organization in the world.

Even with all their players available, the US looked like they couldn’t walk and chew gum at the same time.

And let’s, again, give credit to the Belgians. They were openly angry at the FIFA decision, and they showed it from the moment they put boot to ball in Seattle.

They were in the processed up being “jobbed” by FIFA, and they were not having any of it.

That’s a life lesson for all of us, isn’t it.

We know that’s what they were thinking because when they scored to make it 3-1 and essentially put themselves into the quarterfinals, they collectively put their index fingers over their lips and told the massive American audience in Seattle to shut up and sit down.

Normally, I would not be impressed by that sort of behavior, but in this case I thought it was fitting and appropriate.

The Belgians came to the stadium Monday with a mission to fulfill and a wrong to right in their eyes, and they did that with 90 minutes of mastery of the game of soccer and of their opponents.

The US didn’t look ready to play, and maybe it was because FIFA’s decision less than 36 hours before kickoff was shocking even to them. Everyone knew the rules that had been in place for decades.

I don’t believe in Karma, as such, but I do believe that what happened Monday night was impacted by the decision to let a banned player from a host country play — just not the way anyone expected.

And maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s a just result.

The saddest part of this is that this year, on home soil, with several favorites like Germany out of the way, was a legit opportunity for America to make a run. We were not going to win the whole thing, but every win would have been an investment in the sport’s growth here.

Now the narrative that has existed will remain: “The US will never be a threat to win the World Cup and will continue to be a wannabe soccer superpower.”

After Monday, it’s hard to deny that reality.

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Roger Grossman
News Now Warsaw

I realize that Father’s Day is still a couple weeks away, but my dad popped into my head this week.

It’s Free Fishing Weekend in Indiana this coming weekend.

My dad didn’t just take me with him fishing, he taught me how to fish. He taught me how to put line on a pole, how to tie the knots, and how to read whether my bobber was being blown by the wind or something was tugging on my bait.

My dad also used that time while we were fishing to talk — meaningful, conversations about a lot of different subjects. And my dad was not big on deep conversations. He was happy to participate in them, but he almost never initiated them. When we were fishing, though, it was different.

It was always comfortable, and his timing was always right.

One of the last days I spent with him was a Friday in August of 2005. I was in a boat the size of a bathtub with my dad and my only brother. We fished for hours with nothing in the buckets to show for our trouble. A brief rain shower came through. We got soaked, and apparently the fish got hungry. 63 bluegills later, my dad said to us “that was the best day of fishing I’ve had since your grandpa died” (he had died more than 30 years before that).

My brother and I agreed that it was our best day too, mainly because it was his best day.

Four months later he had the first of a series of strokes. Three months after that, he was gone.

I don’t get the fishing gear out anymore without thinking about him, about that day, and about the gift he gave me in the form of a love for fishing.

I bring that up because Indiana is offering a “Free Fishing Weekend” this weekend.

Saturday and Sunday, you don’t need to have a fishing license to fish in Indiana. You are still required to follow all the rules of fishing set by the DNR. Those rules include how many fish of a certain species you can catch in one day and how long a largemouth bass must be for you to keep it…among other things.

The purpose of this designated weekend is to get people who don’t fish or haven’t fished for a long time to grab a pole and get back out in a boat or on a Hoosier shoreline.

Dig those poles out of storage, grab the kids and get them out there this weekend. But be warned—they might fall in love with it, and so might you. And you might just find yourself in a conversation that will change a relationship forever in the best possible way.

I’d say that’s worth a lot more than the price of a fishing license.

Just so you know, the price of an annual fishing license for someone who lives in Indiana is $23.

That might feel like a lot of money to you, but let me put this in some perspective.

If you go fishing three times a month from May to September — that’s five months. And let’s say you caught enough fish to clean and eat once a month—that would be five meals worth of filets. That would be less than $5 per meal.

Go to a grocery store and try to buy fish to feed your family for a meal for less than $5.

Spoiler alert: you can’t.

Indiana residents must be at least 64 years of age to be eligible to buy a Senior Annual or Senior Fish for Life License. The Senior Fish for Life License is valid for the rest of the holder's life and includes the trout/

salmon stamp. Indiana residents who were born before April 1, 1943, do not need a fishing license when fishing in Indiana waters.

And you don’t need a license if you haven’t had your 18^th birthday yet. You don’t need to have a license if you are active in the military and home on leave.

And, oh by the way, even if your bobber doesn’t do any funny dances or disappear, the fresh air and time spent on the water is still worth it.

Let’s be 100-percent honest — outside of Minnesota and Wisconsin and parts of Michigan—Kosciusko County is the envy of the entire country because of the 120 natural lakes we have here within our border. Take advantage of that. Don’t waste it.

And kids (especially you adult kids), don’t be afraid to take the initiative and take your dad fishing!

There are no DNR rules about that this weekend either.

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Last Thursday, the breaking news alert that NASCAR champion Kyle Busch had died in a non-racing related incident was quite jarring.

As the days go by, we find out more about what happened, and hopefully, time will allow us to understand the “why” of what happened.

And hopefully, NASCAR will not make the same mistake it made by hiding what happened to Dale Earnhardt. That’s another column for another day

When I heard the news of Busch’s shocking death, my brain drove its forklift into the back rooms of the warehouse of my mind and brought out an interview I did with Kyle Busch.

It was July 28, 2016, and Toyota was opening up its first dealership in Warsaw — right where it stands today, just north of US 30 on State Road 15.

The world of NASCAR had arrived in the state of Indiana to run the Brickyard 400 at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and Toyota brought several of its high-level corporate leaders to the grand opening of its Warsaw location.

And they were bringing Kyle Busch to Warsaw to help draw a crowd to their new shop.

And did he ever!

I don’t know how many people were crammed inside that building that afternoon, but there wasn’t enough room to turn around. And those who couldn’t get inside stood outside on a beautiful, warm summer day.

I was there because WRSW-FM was broadcasting live, and I was asked if I would interview Kyle Busch.

At that time, Busch seemed to be in the middle of all the driver spats in the NASCAR Cup Series. And for his part, he didn’t really flinch away from that. Truthfully, it sure looked like he embraced the role of “villain” in a world of stock car driven by squeaky-clean marketing majors like Jimmy Johnson and Jeff Gordon.

He would nudge you, bump you or just flat run you into the wall if that’s what it took to beat you.

And he could not care less about your feelings.

When presented with the opportunity to interview Busch, I didn’t hesitate to accept. No, he would not be my favorite person to interview of all time, but I have never and will never let that get in the way of doing my best to connect a person with the public.

In the days, hours and minutes leading up to Busch’s arrival at Toyota of Warsaw, I was reminded of the goal of this event, which was to be a positive promotion of the newest car dealership in Warsaw.

The best summary of that would be the marketing person from Toyota who said to me 15 minutes before the scheduled interview, “Remember, Roger, your job here is to interview him. You are not here to pick a fight with him, ask him something controversial or make a name for yourself.”

Some interviewers would put their microphone down at that point and take a pass on the interview. But for me, I was there on behalf of the radio station to do the same thing as everyone else was trying to do — leave a good first impression about Toyota’s new presence in Warsaw.

Shortly after, you could hear the cheering of the people outside. Busch had arrived.

He walked right up to me and said, “Roger, it’s nice to be here.” I smiled because I appreciated the fact that he knew who was interviewing him.

Then he leaned into my left ear and said, “Please don’t make me look like a jerk (he used a different word, but you get the point).”

I leaned into his right ear and said, “I have no intention of doing anything of that sort. I am here to promote this dealership and talk to you about Sunday’s race.”

He nodded in confirmation.

I remember very little about the interview itself, other than we talked about how he felt about his car during his practice and how important his relationship with Toyota was.

It lasted about 10 minutes, and then his representative gave me a smile and a wink to let me know it was time to wrap up so that he could say “hi” to people, sign some things and get back on his way to Indy.

When it was over, I sent the station to a commercial break and reached out my hand to shake Kyle’s and thank him for the opportunity to speak with him.

He took his headset off and immediately rejected my handshake. I panicked. What had I done wrong?

I had misread him because, instead, he hugged me. Not a bro hug, a good one. And in the midst of that he said, “Thank you for not trying to pick a fight with me or make me look like a jerk (again, my word. He used a much different word, but you get the point).

He patted my shoulder and walked away.

I doubt that he remembered that interview much beyond climbing aboard the helicopter. I will admit that I have tried and failed many times to analyze his words and what I should take away from them.

I will also admit that I had forgotten about that day until Thursday, when the news broke.

But I won’t forget it now, or ever again.

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