Isaac Haas' size has been a boon and a bane for the senior. No 7'2'', 290lb man walks softly or slips by unnoticed. While in normal life this may prove cumbersome, on the court it has been a revelation. The last two games in particular have been a wonderful glimpse at what a skilled man that large can do. He's averaged nearly 24 points and over six rebounds over those two games, and as impressive as those numbers are, what's more impressive is how he's achieved those numbers. He's been playing tough and decisive. While he sometimes still fades away when scoring off the block, he's taking it to the defense instead of letting them dictate what he does. And on defense, well, his perimeter defense won't remind anyone of JaJuan Johnson, and he certainly lacks the graceful physicality of Caleb Swanigan, but he's been reasonably solid on D, even blocking four shots against Maryland.

But he is being physical and mixing it up below, he runs into several risks. One is the fact that his elbows are right at chin level for many players, and he's no stranger to the offensive foul because of it. The other is he can have guys hanging off of him and the refs will just swallow their whistle. 

Therefore, there is some element to his game that is dependent on forces beyond his control. Should the refs decide to call the game close, he benefits. Should they let 'em play, it'll probably be a frustrating evening for Haas.

Against Northwestern on Sunday, the refs called it close. Haas was matched up with Dererk Pardon, a 6'8'' Junior center who's short on skill but long on toughness. Against Haas he had arguably the best game of his career (minus a 19 and 22 game last year against Nebraska) with 20 points and eight rebounds. On offense, he could do no wrong, shooting 9-12 from the field. On defense, he was largely powerless to stop Haas. With Northwestern coach Chris Collins deciding to not send the second defender to Haas on the block, Pardon was on an island. 

As much as Pardon scored at ease against Haas, Haas did just as much, if not more. Haas was 8-13 from the field, but where he really made his impact was from the free throw line. There, he was 10-14, and ended up fouling Pardon out, a frustrating end to an otherwise impressive performance from the Junior.

Pardon's night ultimately told the story of his team's experience, and that frustration came out during the post-game press conference with Chris Collins. With his anger barely contains beneath a veneer of coach-speak, Collins wasted little time complaining about how the game was called. He fretted about the foul difference between the two teams (24 attempts for Purdue, five for Northwestern), and bitterly mentioned that he had to hurry because Pardon was bleeding and had to get stitches. When asked to clarify as to whether he was being facetious with regards to the stitches comment, Collins doubled down on his previous statement.

While it's all fine and good for a coach to stand up for his player, the only hitch in that plan for Collins was the fact that Pardon was not in the process of getting any stitches, nor was he even bleeding, a fact that he set straight during his own post-game statements to the media.

This wasn't a case of an honest mistake by Collins - there was no equivocation in what he said, nor any clarifying comments when pressed later. Just the insistence that Pardon took an elbow to the face, and needed medical intervention to stanch the bleeding. There was no story here that tells the tale of a miscommunication, or a misunderstanding. Collins flat-out lied.

And why lie? If he wanted to gripe about the foul disparity, he could have easily done that and no one would have blinked an eye. If he wanted to complain about Purdue's physicality, that also could have been done. But instead, Collins focused on a fictional elbow, a fictional bleed, and a fictional set of stitches. Perhaps the former Dookie was thinking about Carsen Edwards, who ate an elbow thrown by a Northwestern player, forcing him to head back to Purdue's locker room and miss the rest of the game?

And now Collins' whining at best makes him sound like a petulant child whose mother unjustly sent him to his room without dessert, and at worst a sore loser who resorts to lying to distract from his own coaching deficiencies that helped cause his team to lose. A favorable interpretation of Collins' comments might reason that he did this to maybe plant the right message in the minds of refs for a future Purdue-Northwestern match-up, but Sunday was their only meeting this year. 

Ultimately, Collins' sniping theatrics mean little, and Matt Painter isn't the type to spar with a fellow coach through the media. But still, I can sit here, equal parts annoyed and amused, ultimately smirking at the guy who's only recourse after a tough loss on the road is a blatant lie to a room full of people who could (and did) effortlessly prove it. Chris Collins wasn't mistaken. There wasn't a miscommunication. He straight up lied because he lost a frustrating game to a better team and he lacks the emotional maturity to deal with it like an adult.