There is a God, and he remembered Detroit existed....

Again, I know, a little late, but humor me. I waited YEARS for this moment.

MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE! MILLEN'S GONE!

7 minutes with the Prophet: The Tall Dude talks to Howard Schellenberger

I knew I was going to be the football beat writer for the Herald for several months before the season actually started. That left me to ponder the many games I would cover, all the players I'd be writing about, the different stadiums I would go to, and the coaches I would interview.
The coaches part is what had me most intrigued, with the schedule being what it was. I had the potential to talk to some national-championship caliber coaches during the season.
These included Frank Beamer, the coach at Virginia Tech, whose teams were always competitive in the ACC.
There was also Rich Brooks, who I didn't personally care for all that much because of his coaching of Kentucky but who was still a bigger name than anyone I had talked to before.
There was even Nick Saban, the one man in college football who you either love or hate, and was the highest paid coach in history at Alabama.
Those were names that are instantly recognizable to most every college football fan, and have their mugs plastered on TV screens every Saturday during football season.
But none of those people meant crap. I wanted to interview somebody else, I wanted to ask a question of somebody better.
I wanted to talk to Howard Schnellenberger.

To truly love and appreciate Howard Schnellenberger you have to be a UofL fan (and sure as hell not a Oklahoma fan). For a true UofL fan remembers the dark times in the mid-1980's. While the basketball team was winning championships, the Cardinal football program had losing records ten out of their last 12 seasons, including six in a row. The Athletic department couldn't get enough butts in seats so they gave away tickets, and the Cardinals shared their arena with a minor-league baseball team the Louisville Redbirds (who I used to love going to see, and now are called the Riverbats). The situation got so grim that the AD was looking at dropping the program to Division 1-AA level or maybe eliminating the team altogether.
Then came Howard.
Simply put, Schnellenberger is Elijah. He's the Prophet. He has looked into the future and saw what was to come.
At his opening press conference, he famously stepped up to the podium and said "We're on a collision course with the national championship. The only variable is time."
Now, sure, he's gone on to say a variation of that for every program he's every coached or played against...and I'm half-certain he says that when he's making love, but to UofL fans he was hope. A promise of a better future. He was a legend.

(Tall Dude note: Okay, I know I wasn't born quite yet when he said that, and was all of seven years old when he left for Oklahoma, but that doesn't mean I can't like the guy. Just think about every Bama fan that worships at the altar of Bear Bryant, who died almost 20 years ago. On a related note: Big thank yous to Wikipedia for providing said information)

After leaving Louisville, he went on to coach at Oklahoma for a tumultuous year, before selling bonds for a while. He then founded the football program at Florida Atlantic, which he grew into being one of the success stories that WKU hopes to become in it's transition to the FBS, taking the Owls from fledgling FCS team to Sun Belt conference and New Orleans Bowl Champions in just seven years.
Then came this season, a year when our paths were destined to cross. I had begged and pleaded with the higher-ups at the Herald to let me interview Schnellenberger, even though I had never really used a quote from one in a game story before and it usually took place during David Elson's interviews.
However, my editor, in his wisdom, let me talk to Howard while he talked to Elson and got quotes.

During the game I saw him, always recognizable with his white head and immaculate dress. I did have cause to wonder, though, as to what he actually did during games. He just seemed to pace in between the 40's and letting his assistants do the work.
Whatever, he was probably transferring coaching wisdom telepathically. But who cares, he obviously has some more important things to worry about.
Well, Western managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory...AGAIN...with the game ending in a 24-20 loss, and it was time for Howard.
I waited by the visiting locker room with the Florida contingent of reporters, trying not look like an idiot but still barely able to contain my excitement.
A few Owl players came out to talk to the other reporters. I really didn't need them so I just held my recorder out like I was doing something. Afterwards the FAU SID came out and said that Howard might be a while.
"What's a while," we asked. "Like five minutes?'
Nope, she said, he might take a shower.
Now, I am not familiar with the visiting locker room facilities in LT Smith, however I know plenty of other places I would rather take a shower (Baghdad, the Bates Motel, Sarah Palin's house). Plus, it was a rather cool day, and I hardly doubt he had worked up a sweat ambling down the sideline like he did.
We politely told the SID that we would need to speak at him now, and she went in the locker room to fetch him out.
We waited out there for about 10 minutes, our hearts rising every time the door opened before sinking when we realized it was a lowly equipment manager.

Finally, he emerged...and was promptly swamped by about a dozen old people. Like ancient old people... I think they were groupies for Jesus and his 12 disciples. It looked like a Cocoon remake. So after ten long minutes of "Good game", "It's an honor, coach" and "Say, have you seen my dentures?" he finally got around to answering questions.
And as tough as waiting through all that had been, it was worth it. For when the prophet spoke it was like Gabriel singing, albeit with smokers lungs and a throat full of gravel. I could have listened to that man speak all night. But unfortunately my ordeal was far from over.

As part of the stadium renovations and the overall new WKU football look, a really loud explosion is fired off at different points during the game. The thing about the particular device they fire it out of is that once it has been loaded, it has to be discharged.
And it was...right in the middle of our interview. Now, I'm a strapping young man, and I think I may have peed myself a little bit. I can't not imagine what most have been going through the head, pants, or circulatory system of poor Schnellenberger. I was afraid I may be witnessing the last few moments of his life.
He took it like a champ, though. Although, remarking about how loud it was and admiring the smoke ring, or the "halo" as he called it, the explosion produced.
The rest of the interview was relatively uneventful, except for another minor interruption by some more old people, who I later found out where some of his old Flaget High School teammates (thanks again, Wikipedia).

I did ask Schnellenberger a question, which was pretty much my ONLY goal this season. I asked him about how the Owls were able to counter any major offensive moves Western made, limiting the Topper's momentum. However, the question he answered was not the question I asked. Oh well, he's forgot more about the great game of football than I will ever know...
And that was that, all of my goals for the season have been accomplished, so the season could end tomorrow as far as I'm concerned.
Which would be a good thing, considering basketball season starts on Halloween, giving me another buttload of work with which to deal with. However, the Toppers do play Louisville on November 30. That means I'll be breathing the same air as Rick Pitino.

I've already circled the date....

ABOUT DAMN TIME...

Ladies and Gentleman, after what I prefer to call a "sabbatical" of close to five months from the blogging scene, the Tall Dude is making his less-than-triumphant return.
Many of you readers have commented about my lack of blogging, and I have (finally) heard your pleas.
I plan to be blogging pretty regularly from here on out (now where have you heard that, before) so stay tuned. I have a lot of thoughts from my sabbatical, so I'll start out with those, before moving on to more relevant and pertinent matters.

I say again, Hell has frozen over, the cows have come home, and Monty Python has reunited....the Tall Dude is back,

Now check outside, folks, there's probably pigs flying around somewhere....

DAY IV: The Biggest Gopher

After having labored for two whole days, waking up at 1 pm and such, to complete my crew feature, I thought that I would have a nice easy day four. And I did...until my editor told me I would be helping the man, the myth, the legend, Tom Kubat with a high school track article. It was the Regional meet, and several athletes from local schools had a decent chance of winning. Kubat was gonna need me to run around and get quotes.

Now, this was a mixed blessing. For one, I had just gotten done doing track articles for the last four months (see the Midas Touch post), and the last thing I wanted to do was write another one. On the other hand, this would give me a chance to watch my wunderkind cousin compete in the 800-meter final, in which he was the top seed. Not only that, but be on the field close enough to touch him or any other sweaty high schooler I wanted to...wait, that didn't sound right.

Well, regardless of my feelings, my editor told me to, which means God told me to as far as I was concerned. So I went around the time all the finals were going on and sought Kubat out on the infield.

He told me my main priorities would be the jumpers, both high and long. While Kubat was covering the runners, I was to watch stuff on the other side of the track to get quotes from local athletes, if they won of course.

Now, the annoying thing about track meets, and anyone who has been to one knows this, is that they take FOR-EV-VER. An eternity of sitting around watching preliminary heats and false starts and hurdle setup. The jumps are no different, with each long jumper getting SIX FREAKIN' ATTEMPTS. There was already a guy who had jumped 22'7", and everyone there was pretty sure no one was going to get close to that, but I didn't want to be the one who phoned it in and miss some Matrix kid jump 40 feet.

The long jump was a little better, if you messed up three times your done, but it still took forever. Especially after two kids got in a jumpers duel that lasted to 6'9". That means that if they tried that on me, their nuts would just slide across my forehead. Jesus, I considered it an achievement if I could jump over a shoebox in high school.

So while I was waiting for an 'coons age for the jumpers to finish up, I was able to tool around the infield, and was mere feet away when the gun went off for the 800 final. My cousin quickly got boxed in by a bunch of other runners, could make a proper move, and ended up finishing fifth. Shoot. And Kubat was actually going to let me talk to him, no matter how unethical that might have been.

So when the jumpers finally finished, I got some so-so quotes from them, then transcribed them for and got the hell out. Despite placing fifth, my cousin's time was still good enough to get him to state. I was gonna try to go, as long as I didn't have to cover it.

The Tall Intern: Days 2 and 3 a.k.a 2Live Crew

PURDUE HAS A ROWING TEAM?
This was originally published on Saturday, May 24, but it fits in here so I'll post it anyway.

I've decided to combine these two days into one post for two reasons. One, I pretty much did the same thing for both days, so if I wrote two posts I'd basically be repeating myself. Two, If I tried to write two posts I'd get lazy and not finish. So, whoomp, here it is.

Day 2 started off well enough. I didn't have to show up till 2 pm (we in the business call that a perk), and my boss congratulated me for not quitting, then he said that he had the STORY for me. What was the story about? Steriods? Recruiting violations? Dead horses?

Uh-uh. The Purdue crew team.

I didn't know much about crew. Only that it involved a buttload of rowing, everybody who did it had six-pack abs, and I probably couldn't fit in the boat. Other than that I was clueless.


They were coming off a huge win at the historic Dad Vail regatta, whatever the hell that was, and had some major championship races coming up. I was assigned to do a feature on them for Saturday. And what was more, when I called the coach up, he invited me to go out on the Wabash River with the team in a boat while the team practiced.

I, knowing my size, declined, despite their insistence that I could fit on the boat. I probably could, but I wasn't exactly dressed for rowing, or being on the water but I was going to anyway. I instead opted to travel with the coach on his speed boat.

And so there I found myself, dear and probably nonexistent reader, my second day on the job and I'm sitting in a rickety speedboat with a guy I've never seen before down the Wabash River. Who'da thunk?

So I rode with this dude for the better part of two hours, picking his brain about all things rowing and watching a bunch of sweaty men row boats. Good times...

I saw some other things too, some eagles flying through the trees, and some bighead carp jumping out the water trying to take my head off, all against a backdrop of the Wabash River in the summer. It looked like a scene out of a nature movie...or Deliverance.

After all that was done, I talked to a couple of crewers(?) and booked, the article wasn't due till Saturday and I was way ahead of myself. I'd work on it later. Thus ended Day Two...


Day Three saw me working on the article for most of the day, I wrote most of the info before I started transcribing quotes, like I usually do. I was halfway through listening to the longest interview with a crew coach ever when my recorder started acting up, getting all loud and scratchy and crap. And in the process of trying to fix the problem I accidentally erased all of my interviews from the previous day, basically rendering the whole f-in' boat ride useless.

Well, poop.

Never fear, readers. I had an idea. I knew they were practicing again on the river that day, but practice was almost over. I sped down to the Wabash to get some new quotes, which meant I was going to have to rework my questions to try to get all of the coaches and players I talked to yesterday to repeat EVERYTHING THEY SAID...you know, like a real journalist.

Luckily I had another subject I said I wanted to delve into, so I had a tiny bit of cover from blatantly asking questions again. I got everything I needed...again...and went back to the office to write my article. And then I found out that it would have a spiffy video with it too. Great, more pressure...

So anyway, there's the story behind it, I hope you find your life richer for having read it.

The Tall Intern: Day 1

CHECK THIS CRAP OUT!!!

Sorry, I'm getting a little ahead of myself. But seriously, great story, you should read it dozens of times and e-mail it to all your friends.

For those of you who don't know, I'm now one of the two sports desk interns for the Lafayette Journal and Courier in the beautiful town of Lafayette, Ind. Now, I haven't done any research into this, but I'm pretty sure I'm the tallest intern in J&C history. While this will probably make me feel better if and probably when my articles start sucking, it does have some nasty side effects, such as everyone from the managing editor to the theater critic asking how tall I am, and then subsequently inviting me to be on the staff basketball, softball, and bocce teams. This leaves me to wonder how long it will take them to figure out that I'm so uncoordinated that when I try to blink I end up winking one eye after the other.

There was no grace period in this internship. After lunch with the sports editor and a quick tour of the premises, I was thrust right into the thick of things with an assignment right off the bat. I was sent out to a really classy parking lot in front of a really classy Meijer to the first stop in the Indianapolis Colt's Make It Personal tour. That means I would get to talk to a couple of Colt's players and maybe try to steal a grope from a cheerleader or two.

What players did they send out? Peyton "Eli's Brother" Manning? Marvin "Handgun" Harrison? Jeff "Night Fever" Saturday?

Nope.

I got Kelvin Hayden, a starter but not top tier, and Kyle Shotwell, a scrub who got picked up from the waiver wire. Okay, not a lose your bowels type moment but I'm guessing it was two more NFL players than YOU talked to on Monday. I also talked to a couple of the Colts fans in attendance, who included a very nice couple with four kids all decked out in Colts gear, a dude with three teeth, and some kook who looked like he played on the Baltimore Colts and kept asking me why he couldn't take as many pictures as he wanted with the players.

But it was all good. I wrote the article, and got published in the J&C my first day on the job. Not too shabby...

DUMB JOCK QUOTE OF THE DAY
"I think it's just really important to let people from the outskirts of Indianapolis who are maybe just a little further away from the direct people in the city to kind of get a chance to taste what the Colts are all about, the tradition, and to meet some of the guys."-Kyle Shotwell, from the tour stop in LAFAYETTE, INDIANA, which is approximately an hour away from Indy and cannot in any way be confused with its "outskirts". Kelvin Hayden said much of the same thing. Methinks they slept in the limo ride up here.

Honorable mention goes to the aforementioned kook.

Days 2-4 are upcoming, I swear.

The Midas Touch: The Year in Western Sports

After having gone through two whole semesters of WKU sports this year, I now feel inclined tell you about a theory I have regarding my relationship to Western Athletics.

Now, this might be a little facetious of me, but I believe I am invaluable to WKU Sports. I think this even though, as a lowly reporter for the College Heights Herald, I have as slim a connection with the inner workings of the program as a janitor or an idiot Hilltopper Haven poster.

Why do I believe this? It's simple.

I got the Midas touch.

Simply put, everything I report on turns to gold.

To prove my theory, let us run down all of the sports I covered since last August.

WOMEN'S SOCCER


Women's Soccer was my first beat that involved going to games and not having to worry about whether my articles would be reduced to four-inch briefs or whether or not they would be in the paper at all. With this added security, I was able to up my reporting game something righteous.

And up it I did. Although it started out kind of rough, I was soon able to get into a routine and churn out some pretty rocking stories. And what was more, the women's soccer team was having their best season ever. The season featured a 10-game winning streak and a 13-game unbeaten streak. They finished with a record of 13-2-3 overall record and a 8-1-2 conference record. They won their first Sun Belt Conference regular season title and a number one seed in the tournament semifinals.

Why so much success? Was it because of the leadership of SBC Player of the Year Morgan Thomas, SBC Coach of the Year Jason Neidell, and all-conference team members Meredith Goodson, Alicia Dalby, Rachel Friedman and Mallory Outerbridge?

Maybe, but more likely they just benefited from my supreme sportswriting powers. That's my story and I'm sticking too it.

WOMEN'S BASKETBALL

Women's basketball, the big little time. The one sport that people besides the reporter's family and the players' families might actually read. And it was all mine this year. This season in Lady Topper basketball had a lot of questions associated with it.

Head coach Mary Taylor Cowles had gone four years without a Sun Belt championship, much like men's counterpart Darrin Horn. And like Horn, her butt was firmly in the hot seat in the eyes of many fans and possibly some in the administration. On the players side, senior forward Crystal Kelly had gone three seasons bootyfooking the record books, but did not have a championship to show for it. If she didn't do it this season, how would she be remembered?

These questions were answered, mostly because of my savagely awesome reporting mojo. Not only did they win the regular season title, but their first Sun Belt championship since 2003 and a subsequent trip to the NCAA tournament as a 10-seed. Their opponent, 7th seed UTEP, who had not been to a POSTSEASON TOURNAMENT in the program's history.

So, like a conquering hero, did I go to Stanford to spread a little more of the Tall Dude voodoo. Unfortunately, I was subject to a 32-point drubbing at the hands of a Miner squad full of a bunch of butches and a center that looked like a yeti. But I consider that an anomaly, so forget everything I just said.

TRACK AND FIELD

This marked my second consecutive foray into the world of running around in an oval and throwing stuff. Having already reported on it during the 2006-2007 season, I was hopeful that my new found powers of sportswriting providence would be extolled upon the team.

And extolled it was. The women's team continued their success, winning both the indoor and outdoor Sun Belt championships, so they really didn't need my juju. But the men's team, who hadn't won an indoor championship since 19-Seventy-Freakin'-Six, needed it like a anorexic needs a sammidge.

And they got it, thanks to me, but also to efforts such as those of the men's 4x400 relay team of Gavin Smellie, Terrill McCombs, Romaine McKay, and Alexander Larin, who made it all the way to nationals and placed eight among the biggest track schools in the country. I wish I was there.

They continued that success in the outdoor season, again sweeping the conference titles and are now preparing for the NCAA's. Much Tall Dude luck to them.

So there you have it, readers. My bulletproof theory regarding my magic touch with WKU athletics. So if your luck is taking a turn for the worse, call me and maybe I'll write about YOU!

TALL DUDE'S NOTE: Yes, I did cover men's soccer for a time, and yes, they got dropped like Rondo in game 7 vs. Atlanta. But since I didn't cover them for there entire season, I'm not counting that against me.

Sweet Merciful Crap

Wow...close to 2 months without a post...oops.
But take this as the Tall Dude's solemn promise that I will post on the regular all summer. Since school is out I will have more time, and since I'll be an intern at the sports desk at a paper in Indiana, I'll have plenty of sports to write about.

Promise.

BLOG: The Herald travels to Stanford, Calif. - Coverage of the NCAA Tournaments

Sorry I don't have any TOTALLY original crap for you guys, but I'm suffering from the worst case of jet lag ever. Once I recover, I promise you a full account of all my shenanigans on the West Coast. In the meantime, enjoy my sissified blog I wrote for the Herald.

BLOG: The Herald travels to Stanford, Calif. - Coverage of the NCAA Tournaments

COMMENTARY: Reaching new heights of irritation - Opinion

Since I haven't blogged in a couple days, I give you an entry I made into the opinion page of the College Heights Herald. Enjoy, suckers.


COMMENTARY: Reaching new heights of irritation - Opinion

Today is Tomorrow's Yesterday

Just finished watching the selection show. Apparently the Western's men's team is going to Tampa. That means ARob is going to Tampa. The warmest place I'll be going is nowhere near Florida.

Dammit.

Sun Belted LIVE

Ladies and gentleman, We're going dancing!

Final 67-57

Great, now ARob will never shut up...

Sun Belted LIVE

50.4 left. WKU up by ten. Stranger things have happened, but looks like me and ARob are going dancing...

Sun Belted LIVE

1:12 in the Second- WKU leads 63-53

Security at the Mitchell Center is amassing at Western's side in case they rush the field, all 30 of them. There will probably be more media on the floor than students if that happens.

Sun Belted LIVE

Just filled out my ballot. I got Yates and Kanaskie from MTSU, Bennett from USA, Lee from WKU, and Bo McCalebb for no apparent reason, couldn't think of a fifth guy.

Evans is my MVP.

Sun Belt LIVE

4:05 in the second. WKU is up 59-51.

I'm not to impressed with the signs I'm seeing out in the stands. Most of them are a bunch of stupid anagrams for ESPN. Plus there's a sign that clearly looks like it was made at halftime that's bashing Lunardi for having WKU as one of the "Last Four Out" for about five weeks. Ain't his fault USA actually won some games...

There are some rays of sunshine though. A couple USA fans have signs saying "The Jags deserve to Dance", which I agree with. Another says "No Doubt...Courtney is All-American", which I don't necessarily.

My favorite one is a sign that says "Mid-Major my-" and then a picture of a donkey. I don't necessarily agree with that one either, but it's funny.

Sun Belted LIVE

11:22 in the 2nd WKU is up 47-37.

A lot of guys have been getting traveling calls and their fourth fouls during the game, which makes me even more glad Soul Train isn't here.

Oh, I'm sure he tried, but can you imagine an 8-hour road trip with SOUL TRAIN!?

"Give me a C, Give me a A, Give me a R, Exclamation Mark, EXCLAMATION MARK!"

Not to mention trying to get everyone on the interstate to do the wave and finding a way to mess up the National Anthem as some juncture.

But, he is a part of the WKU Spirit, so in memorium I'm saying about 45 "fours" after somebody get's their fourth foul, and singing "The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is on fire" after every traveling call.

Sun Belted LIVE

15:27 in the 2nd WKU up 42-32. Western's biggest lead of the night.

Jeremy...or Jerome...Evans is eviscerating them inside. Unless MTSU comes back, he's my MVP.

SUN BELTED HALFTIME SHOW

I got a All-Tournament Ballot. WIN WIN WIN. ME ME ME. I can't decide whether to seriously do one or just mess everything up. How do you spell "Aguilar"?

Sun Belted LIVE at the Half

Western is up at halftime 34-31. Orlando Mendez-Valdez...or Valdez-Mendez...or Exxon Valdez shot a three pointer with under four seconds left to put the Toppers up. It's gonna be bad for the Blue Raiders if he gets hot in the second half.

Sun Belted LIVE

34.5 seconds-Tied at 31

The WKU athletic director is here, of course, and his kid is probably talking the most smack of anyone in the section behind me.

Hypothetical here: What if the ref's gave him a T? How would that look, especially in front of Sun Belt commish Wright "Big Daddy" Waters?

Sun Belted LIVE

3:17
MTSU is only up one, 28-27. WKU has gotten the last couple of calls, and might parlay this into a lead.

Ty Rogers just plowed into press row right in front of me, he almost knocked the laptop I'm using off the table. Which would have been bad. At least he didn't jump over the table like he did against South Alabama. Teebagged by Ty Rogers on national television....how many decades would it take for me to live that one down?

Sun Belted LIVE

4:41 left in the first.
MTSU is up 28-25.

Do the stat guys think I'm actually doing something important? They keep handing me box scores like I am. I wonder if I can weasel my way into a All-Tournament ballot...

Sun Belted LIVE Cont.

26-21 MTSU with 6:50 left.

MTSU just keeps feeding it into the paint, and are getting plenty of shots up, make or miss. Not sure what to make of all this just yet. Will continue...

Sun Belted LIVE Cont.

I'm pretty sure officials can give fans a technical and just have it on the team, but what about band directors?
WKU's pep band leader has been tearing into the refs the past three games, and in the Tall Dude's opinions, is just begging for it. Watch him get hit with one, then have Western lose by one point.

Can the band play "I'm sorry' by...well, the millions of singers with titles like that?

Sun Belted LIVE Cont.

Missed the first media TO, it was 8-4, but it's changed now. Thought I'd let ya know.

During opponent's free throws, there's some fat hairy dude in WKU's student section that takes his shirt off and starts jiggly his belly like he has ringworms or something. Plus some other dude reaches over and pinches his nipple and he pretends to like it, at least I hope he pretends. To compound matters, now he's shaved a big T in his chest hair. I'm sure the shooters don't pay much attention, but I'd kind of like to see one fire a ball straight at his head. That'll get his shirt back on...

11:50 in the first. MTSU is up 16-13. WKU is on a mini-run, so I'm sure they'll get the lead at some point soon.

Sun Belted Day IV: LIVE-Mobile

Sorry I haven't blogged in a while, as if anybody cares. Things have been rather fast-paced in the life of the Tall Dude lately. So, as compensation for this lack of correspondence I present to you a men's final live blog.

LIVE: A couple things.
They haven't done it in Mobile, but why do they call Jeremy Evans 'the big man in the middle' at all of WKU's home games? Not only is D.J. Magley as tall and about 100 lbs. heavier, he STARTS too. He also has a smoking hot sister in Jessica Magley, which helps.

Sun Belted: Those Big Head Monstahs Part II

Time for round two, readers. And these two mascots are doozies...

BIG HEAD MONSTAH #4: LIGHTNING

Lightning is the mascot for the Middle Tennessee State Blue Raiders. I don't know what those two silver things on the side of its back are. Wings maybe? They look more like two badly dislocated shoulder blades or two awkwardly placed sacks of fat. Yuck.
In all seriousness, this mascot looks like the steroid-abusing love child of a My Little Pony figure and a Smurf. And what's with the shirt? What is he, Captain Marvel?

BIG HEAD MONSTAH #5: RED

A short preface: I was told that apparently Arkansas State is in the middle of a transition period in which they are removing all Native American-affiliated mascots, slogans, and songs from its repertoire. So to eliminate their offensive Native American mascot they came up with Red, a mascot to represent the "spirit" of ASU.
That being said, could someone please tell me just what in the hell this is? I mean seriously. Is it some sort of carrot-man? An overcooked gas station hot dog? A fire ant with Reeboks?
And what's with the shirt? Does he do stunt double work for Liberace or something?
And what's with the shoes, get away from the Chuck Taylors, spend some change, and buy some of them new Jordans, ya dork.

Sun Belted: Those Big Head Monstahs

This begins my feature on the only things here with head sizes comparable to mine, those crazy mascots. I'll provide a photo for those not familar, and then give a general critique of those figureheads of the Sun Belt.

Note: Big Red is by far the best mascot in the conference, so I'm not going to even bother with a analysis, except to say that he looks like a swollen prostate gland with feet.

BIG HEAD MONSTAH #1: SCRAPPY THE EAGLE
By far the most impressive looking mascot besides Big Red I have seen at the tournament. It acts like it would just kick your butt if you started talking smack about the Mean Green, and it looks big enough to bench press the team bus.
Plus he gave me the stink-eye during the quarterfinal game. We about threw down in the middle of the Mitchell Center, but ARob held me back.
A sad note for the Tall Dude. Since both of North Texas's teams were bounced in the quarterfinals, the Tall Dude will no longer be able to see their smoking hot cheerleader.
Well, at least there's still FIU.

BIG HEAD MONSTAH #2: HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED (UALR's MASCOT)
I'd love to provide you a picture of this shady character, but unfortunately I don't know its name so I couldn't find it on Google (any help with that would be appreciated). However, I have seen enough to be adversely affected.
I won't say much, because I'm afraid if I blog about him three times into a mirror he'll magically appear and lop my head off. I will say this, though. I think I had a nightmare about this dude once, in it he took my soul. I don't think I'm going to sleep well tonight.

BIG HEAD MONSTAH #3: OWLSY
I must confess, this doesn't look to much like an owl to me. It looks more like a giant pigeon. And a gangster-ass pigeon at that. This particular picture doesn't do it justice. Owlsy looks way more hardcore in his away uniform.
On a side note: I saw a pigeon that looked about like Owlsy in Central Park in New York City when I went there last summer. He had a gun and tried to mug me, but I threw some bread crumbs which distracted it long enough for me to get away.

Sun Belted Day III Part II: Battle-Mobile

Today was the day we would have the most free time so me and the gang had to use it wisely. We decided to sleep as long as possible to have as much energy as we could, so we didn't really get up and moving until 12:30 or 1. You would be surprised how much motivation it takes to get up and put one's pants one in the morning.
We set off at around lunchtime to Raise some Cane. Did we go cow tipping? No. Did we cruising around, yelling "Whoevah seen da leprechaun say yeah!" to random people on the street? Nope. What did we do to unleash hell upon the unsuspecting populace of Mobile? We killed about 12 chickens at Raising Cane's Chicken Fingers.
Let me backtrack, I'm exaggerating a bit. We didn't actually kill the chickens. I don't want the blog to be swarming with PETA treehuggers. We simply ate their fingers.
So I'm sure there's a farm somewhere in Alabama with a bunch of fingerless chickens running around, maybe playing soccer or learning to use chicken prosthetics.
Three of us ordered the Caner, the most expensive value meal they had which consisted of 5 chicken fingers, a thick slice of Texas toast, an order of fries and some cole slaw. And a large drink.
In short, it was poultry-assisted gastrointestinal suicide, and I was loving every minute of it.
The other dude with us ordered a chicken sandwich, but no waffle fries.
Afterwards, we went to see the U.S.S Alabama. I'm not sure what USS stands for, but it's probably something like "Used for Short Sailors". My head was in a constant state of lowered to dodge doorways, light fixtures, overhead pipes, the helicopter tour, etc. I struggled even more than Alec Baldwin in The Hunt for Red October or Denzel Washington in Crimson Tide, which is really ironic.
To add injurious insult to insulting injury, halfway through our groups inspection of the ship's interior, I got separated from the group. I hunted through every corner of that ship, until I finally found them up in the crow's nest.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, we moved to the submarine. I have a newfound respect for the sailors of the Second World War. I can only hope they doubled as jockeys during peacetime.
The doorways doubled as portholes. I've seen doggy doors bigger than the portals I had to crawl through. I had never planned to join the U.S. armed forces. But know I'm damn sure I'll never join the Navy.
After the excursion, we chilled at the hotel for two hours then decided to go over to the Mitchell Center early to check out the end of the UALR-FAU game. After that will be the WKU-UNT game, which I won't cover, but will still join my compatriot ARob on the sideline for. So I will essentially be compensated for dicking around on my computer for a couple hours.

God I love my job.

Sun Belted Day III: Auto-Mobile Cont.

I feel like I haven't been adequately describing the positions I have to contort myself into to fit in ARob's Prizm. I do confess it is hard to put into words, but luckily I found this picture and article on Deadspin that puts my plight in a pretty accurate light.

One sympathizes.

Sun Belted Day II Part II: It's Laminated

At the semifinals of the Women's Sun Belt Basketball Championship, I'll be among some pretty prestigous company. I'll be rubbing shoulders with seasoned reporters who have been covering this tournament for decades, Sun Belt Conference officials (including the commish, Wright "Big Daddy" Waters), and ESPN comentators and crew.
But even when I'm in the midst of such media heavyweights, I will stand above the rest. I mean, I stand above them anyway, but...well, you know what I mean...
And do you know why?

Because I'll be laminated.

When I asked to receive my media pass at the Sun Belt tournament today, I expected a credential worthy of a mid-major conference tournament. Instead I got a flimsy piece of paper that almost tore in half when I took it out of it's folder.
It didn't have my name on it or what media outlet I was representing. It only had the letters ME on it, which I hoped stood for something like "Mr. Excellent".
This was unprecedented. I went to the WKU-MTSU game a couple weeks ago, and that credential had my name on it. I could have made a better credential with the back of a business card and a shoestring.
Determined not to be subject with a slipshod press pass, me and my fellow Herald representatives decided to do something about it...

But first we had to eat.

So we moseyed over to the Brick Pit, a tar-paper barbeque shack that was all the rage on Hilltopperhaven.com. When we got inside we saw that not only had they allowed every customer ever to write on the walls and ceiling, but the place had been visited by the likes of Michael W. Smith and Franklin Grahm.
And if this place was good enough for some of the holiest men in America, then it was sure as hell good enough for us.
After dinner, we cruised through downtown Mobile, which was suprisingly placcid for 7:30 pm. We even under some river and saw and battleship. I tried to sink it, but I kept guessing the wrong coordinates.

After our little excursion we ate some ice cream at Marble Slab creamery, before heading over to FedEx Kinko's to get legit.
As the only customers in the store, we felt pretty important. We handed the clerk the four media passes, two reporters, two photo. And followed her around like a herd of puppies as she laminated, then cut the passes into neat professional credentials. Now all we had to do was beg the Sun Belt people to give us some nice looking lanyards to match.

After getting back to the hotel, we watched all the videos on Youtube, watched Luke the photog nearly have a heart attack, then went to bed after a nice, full day.

So when you're watching WKU and Arkansas State play in the semifinals, look for me.

I'll be the only one laminated.

Sun Belted Day II: Rib-Mobile

We woke up at the crack of eleven to begin our day. The shower felt like I was washing in a coffin, but I got to see College Gameday, which I usually don't wake up early enough to see on Saturdays.
The campus of South Alabama was a hop, skip, and a jump away from the hotel. I gave a impromptu tour of the campus I have never visited before and we parked and got our media credentials.
The pre-game meal consisted of pizza. A step down from Diddle's offering of barbeque, potato salad, and baked beans but some food is better than no food. I ate about a pizza and a half.
The game itself was enough to give me indigestion. In the first haf conference player of the year only got three shot attempts, and by the grace of GOD was the game tied going into halftime.
After the twelve-minute mark, when Kelly got her fourth foul, I actually began discussing what would happen if the Lady Toppers got bounced in the first round for the second straight year. But fortunately soon after that the Mean Green was unable to buy a bucket, and that allowed Western to fight back for an eventual 61-53 victory.
And, after a pretty thrilling finish we know face Arkansas State in the semifinals after they beat South Alabama 53-52.
That about ends my day at the Mitchell Center, so if anyone knows a good place to eat around Mobile, please let the Tall Dude know.

Sun Belted Day 1 Part II: Auto-Mobile

Well, we're here...finally...in the chilly confines of Mobile, Alabama. The Lady Toppers first-round game is less than 12 hours away, and I'm hoping...PRAYING...that the team gets past the quarterfinals unlike last season. After all, it's what I deserve after the jaunt down here...the mother of all road trips...
It started off well enough. Class were cancelled at Western ahead of any bad weather, so me and A-Rob were able to get out an hour ahead of schedule to begin our journey, albeit in a miniscule Cheverolet Geo Prizm.
The photogs and us convoyed down to the interstate, till briefly getting seperated in traffic. Me and the dude were getting kind of hungry, so we decided to stop and eat at an Arby's/Loves Truck Centers. We attempted to contact the photogs, but neither of them were answering their phones.
After we ate, the dude took the wrong exit and we took a twelve-minute detour until we were finally able to get back in a southward direction. This would prove to be critical for the events to come.
Meanwhile, the photogs were making their way to Birmingham, Alabama. Reaching the city, the decided to stop at a Wendy's and grub. That is when the nightmare began...
Just after me and and the dude passed through Birmingham, one of the photogs gives me a phone call. He then proceeds to tell me that they are broke down somewhere on the side of I-65. I thought they might be behind us, but by God's grace we actually passed them as I was talking on the phone. We were able to stop, pull over, and render assistance.
I thought it might be something that the four of us could solve by putting our heads together, but after lifting the hood and seeing the timing belt casing ruptured and the belt itself hanging out, as if trying to escape, I knew we would have to tow this sucker.
In the hour and half we were waiting for the tow truck, we had an excellent view of the sunset over Birmingham, as well as Alabama traffic patterns. Now, I don't know too much about Birmingham as a city, but to see all the traffic leaving as compared to the traffic coming in, you would have thought Mothra was attacking or something.
Once the tow truck arrived, we dumped the busted car in the small town of Pelham, where were told that it should be fixed on Wednesday. So that's means at least one team will have to make it to the finals, or there is going to be one lonely photog in Pelham.
So now, the Prizm that was already too small for two people now had to fit twice that amount. I'm just now regaining feeling in my legs.
Four hours later we arrived in Mobile suffering from rigor mortis and hungry as a whale on a diet. We stopped in a IHOP before checking in two the Ashbury Motels and Suites.
We drifted on to sleep to the soothing sounds of the people above us using the bathroom, and prepared for Day II, where I was going to have to put some work in...

Sun Belted Day 1: Snow-Mobile

Today is the day me and ARob, the men's beat reporter, leave for Mobile. In what I hope is not a horrendous omen for the rest of the trip, we have snow, rain, ice, and balmy 28 degree weather to drive in. I'll blog after we get to Mobile, that is if I'm still alive.

Welcome UP

I've always sucked at introductions, so I'll make this short. Welcome to The Weather Up Here, my new blog. I've been putting it off and putting it off, but now I finally have the stones to crack open my cerebellum and spill out my opinions upon you the willing populace.

I thought a fitting start to my blogging career would be my coverage of the Women's Sun Belt Basketball Tournment in Mobile, Alabama. I expect to be blogging on the regular down there, so by all means keep checking back.

I've come up with what I thought was a pretty clever title for this little introductory series:

SUN BELTED

Okay so it's not really clever, but I like it...so screw y'all.