Just when you think it's over

   Well, one thing this year's Indianapolis 500 proved was the principle of the Zimmerman Lapse Phenomenon.
   ZLP (1985) is probably best described as the opposite of "choking." Rather it is a sense of overconfidence that sets up a spectacular let-down, as in "Ahh, I'm done and I won," when, in fact, you have not successfully finished.
   Here's the AP's take on  how JR Hildebrand learned his lesson during the 95th running of the Indy 500: "Just a few hundred yards from the finish, Hildebrand's No. 4 Panther Racing Honda slammed into the wall after attempting to lap another rookie, Charlie Kimball, providing one of the most stunning finishes in a century of racing." Here's the video.
   And later, AP attributes this utterance to Panther Racing co-owner John Barnes, regarding the driver's inexplicable crash: "He has nothing to be ashamed about or upset about. Stuff happens here. We're proud of him."
   Indeed, Mr. Barnes, "stuff happens," and in this case it is the 'stuff' of the Zimmerman Lapse Phenomenon. The kid thought he was done — he could see himself in victory lane being kissed by scantily clad gorgeous nameless girls and then WHAMO he saw his face really, really, really close to the retaining wall, smashing into it at 200 mph. He didn't choke; he freaking blanked on the bank — he was a sure winner — so sure that he dropped his concentration.
   Choking is focusing too hard; ZLP is relaxing too much.
   My sister and I first discussed this phenomenon after watching the closing clattering moments of a beer-tray relay competition during the Minster Oktoberfest in west-central Ohio.
   One female contestant inherited the lead for the final leg of the contest which emphasizes not only speed but the ability to keep from spilling too much beer in the process.
   Well, she finished first ... that is, she crossed the finish line first .... but then she laughed, relaxed her shoulder, lost control of her tray and drenched the entire panel of judges with four 16 oz. glasses of Milwaukee's best, thus losing by having no liquid left to measure.
   Need more evidence?
   At least once a year in the NFL, some abject knucklehead will begin his touchdown dancey-dance idiocy before crossing the goal line, only to somehow lose the ball and end up not scoring.
   That's not choking. That's the arrogant attitude of someone craving to be cool only to appear as a stupefying tool.