Imagine for a moment you’re Mal Moore. You have just stood in front of the bright lights and flashing cameras again — posing in your best Mount Rushmore gape — to discuss the University of Alabama’s penalties from the NCAA.
As you walk back to your vast corner office, friends and co-workers pat you on the back, telling you to hang in there, to keep on keeping on.
You sit back in your easy chair, kick your feet up on the desk, and somewhere in the back of you mind, that mock-Latin aphorism must be resonating — Illegitimi non carborundum. Don’t let the b———s grind you down.