If your mom was anything like my mom, you were probably drilled at length about the necessity of making a good first impression. Eye contact, hands out of pockets, fingers out of noses, make sure your fly is up — pretty generic and simple stuff, but on the other hand if you're a nine-year-old, making a fart sound with your armpit is just about as good as a handshake, so why stand on formalities?
In other words, there are things that need to be taught, because undoing a first impression, good or bad, takes a lot of time and effort.
So let's say that you're Jim Delany. You aren't super well-acquainted with the Rutgers basketball program because there is basically no reason for you to be. It's a mediocre program at a school known for a slightly better than mediocre football team, and they haven't made the NCAA tourney since 1991. About as under-your-radar as it could possibly get.
But then one day in the (relative) offseason you awaken yourself in your Tibetan bungalow, shaking off your opium-induced stupor as you deeply kiss one of your many comely tea maidens. Flustered at your uninhibited nudity, your manservant enters your bedroom and bows nervously as he hands you a copy of the Columbus Dispatch. "Cables from the most recent happenings around the world, my lord," the young man squeaks.
And that's when you see it: "Rutgers Scarlet Knights fire coach Mike Rice in wake of video scandal."
Furious, you crush your porcelain tea cup and hurl the remnants at the wall. "What now, your high sexiness? What shall be thine power move?"
You look the tea maiden dead in the eye. "My sweet, this is exactly what I'm going to do."