“You think you know something. You don’t know nothing.”

— The late Aritis Foster

Those words, which once greeted me upon entry into his Monticello restaurant, were never more true.

A microorganism, so small we can’t comprehend it, has thrown sports into eerie non-attended events, political in-fights, irrational rumors and repeated backtracks.

Include me among those who “don’t know nothing,” in particular the week’s wildest scuttlebutt that Pritzkerland members Northwestern and Illinois wouldn’t participate even if the Big Ten presidents/chancellors cast ballots for a resumption of football.

My no-nothing opinion: Just as Ohio State and Nebraska dropped efforts to defy the conference’s no-play ruling, members preferring not to play would be obliged to join in if a starting date was magically approved … whether it’s Oct. 8 or Thanksgiving or Jan. 2 or spring. The Illini team continues to practice for a reason.

Lack of consensusThe divisions go deep. Take high school football. Illinois, with its no-play stance, is surrounded by states hitting the field … Indiana, Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, Kentucky, Ohio and now, with Gov. Gretchen Whitmer finally relenting, Michigan.

In Pennsylvania, where Pittsburgh plays but Penn State doesn’t, 85 percent of preps are approved but are delayed for two weeks due to Gov. Tom Wolf’s troubled acquiescence.

It’s mind boggling.

Wisconsin compromised, allowing schools to choose between fall and spring. Minnesota will wait until spring. West Virginia is permitting a delayed season, but Virginia’s board voted 34-1 against. North Carolina said “no” while South Carolina settled on a shortened season.

How’s this? Pac-12 commissioner Larry Scott calls the conference’s new rapid test a “game changer.” Is this a glimmer of hope out west? Well, not unless California reverses field and allows its colleges to play.

No worries, we have a vaccine on the way. No we don’t. Yes we do. Federal directives have alerted vaccine distributors to be ready Nov. 1. Aw, that’s pre-election staging. No, it isn’t. Oh, what’s the difference? Some 30 or 40 percent of folks won’t take the vaccine anyway. They don’t want to be “guinea pigs.”

And out of the blue, Penn State’s medical director, Wayne Sebastianelli, said 30-35 percent of those Big Ten athletes testing positive suffered degrees of myocarditis. Er, well, he has since apologized for “confusion.”

That isn’t what he meant. Meanwhile, the NFL stated that none of the COVID-19 positives among 2,800 tests showed any degree of heart inflammation.

Whirlwind monthThere will never be another month like August.

It began with the Big Ten’s shocking announcement of a revised schedule that chopped 42 nonconference games, thus destroying all those non-Power-5 budgets so dependent on early “buy games.” Millions and millions were lost on the assumption that small schools couldn’t afford the necessary testing protocols.

Six days later, on fateful Aug. 11, the UI’s Robert Jones and the conference leaders voted to postpone the season to spring. Then followed the Jan. 2 and Thanksgiving rumors, or whatever early date the coaches and athletic directors might be able to pry out of Kevin Warren’s Gang of 14.

My “no-nothing opinion,” as expressed Aug. 10: They should have pushed the season back a month, withholding the vote on an 8- or 10-game schedule until early September (now!).

In so doing, they would know more about the availability of the UI’s saliva test, about the anticipated campus spread, about the myocarditis scare (a hot topic due to concerns expressed by the mother of Indiana freshman Brady Feeney) and whatever else could be learned in those crucial weeks.

Plenty of questionsThe Big Ten leaders might vote differently today. But it’ll be much harder because of the psychological difficulty of switching in a month’s time.

Remember, 11 members — all but Nebraska, Ohio State and Iowa — said “no” because of recommendations by their medical experts. Have three-four weeks provided enough changes? Would two months be enough? Do they know any more about the long-term issues of those infected?

Meanwhile, the sports world is twisting in the wind. College games are underway elsewhere. Georgia quarterback Jamie Newman joined more than 50 FBS players opting out (for virus or NFL reasons). Those returning are using marches, the courts and social media to accelerate their personal demands.

And at nearby Illinois State, athletes organized a boycott, asserting that now-apologetic athletic director Larry Lyons diminished the Black Lives Matter movement by opining that “All Redbird Lives Matter.”

That’s how sensitive these racial, virus and political issues have become in a hopelessly-divided nation composed of no-nothings like me.