Dribbling Ink

(The video is of Colt David's hopeless, last-second field goal attempt and the celebration that ensued.) First off, thanks to my wife for buying me a ticket to the Arkansas-LSU game. (She just felt guilty because she is always leaving me for days at a time to go on basketball trips.) Next, what a game. Besides being rained on for a few hours, everything was great, from the Whole Hog Cafe BBQ to Casey Dick's last throw as a Razorback. The worst part was the contingency of LSU fans. Oh well, the purple-and-gold hush after London Crawford's catch was beautiful. Anyway, since this post is going nowhere, too bad the Hogs didn't take care of business the week before against Miss. St.; however, hopefully they can carry this win over into next year and build on it. There's plenty of talent for Bobby Petrino to exceed expectations next year: D.J. Williams, Joe Adams, Dennis Johnson, etc. Woo Pig Sooie for the football Hogs one last time. Now it's basketball season.

(I always love art with writing; however, this will be a challenge for my coverage (?) of the OBU Lady Tigers. Since it was a monumental night for OBU head coach Garry Crowder, this will have to suffice.) Ok, as promised, here is the first Dribbling Ink post about the Ouachita Lady Tigers’ basketball team. Before we get into any specifics, I’d like to layout how this will work. After every game I attend, which will mostly be home games, I will write up a quick reaction to all the action. I will break each post into four parts: 1) The Dirty Details , which will list all the essentials in case you aren’t interested in my ramblings; 2) Dribbling Ink’s Recap (let’s call it DI’s Recap), a.k.a. my random, almost-journalistic thoughts on the game; 3) The Wife Update , a quick glimpse of Kasa Cooper’s role in the game; 4) the Dribbling Ink Made-Up Quote of the Game (does DIMUQOTG work?), where I attribute a quote to Coach Crowder that he didn’t say but could, should, or may have said afterwa

This is largely a precautionary post. I've mentioned that my wife plays for the Ouachita Baptist Lady Tiger basketball team a number of times; however, I wouldn't be surprised if A) you didn't believe me or B) you didn't pay attention. I just wanted to post a quick link (or you can just click on the title of this blog post) to the roster so you can check out the team: http://www.obutigers.com/wbasketball/2008-09roster.asp Anyway, since I'll be around for most of the home games, it seems I should keep a running commentary about the team. I mean, I'm so used to watching sports with the eye of the journalist that sometimes it's hard to just enjoy for pure entertainment value. This way maybe I can satisfy a little of both cravings. Quick OBU Lady Tiger rundown (at least from my limited prospective): Last year, the Lady Tigers had a few internal problems which forced them to clean house of many of their upperclassmen. Therefore, there are only two seniors and thr

( Caption: So Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher, better known as "Joe the Plumber", can't win an election for you. But I bet he can plunge your toliet, right?) A lot of responsibility comes with marriage, such as taking care of your wife when she’s sick like mine is right now. However, to me that’s an easy one. I can make chicken noodle soup, hot chocolate, and Jell-O. The challenging part of being married, for me, is the Tim-Allen home improvement gig. Growing up, my dad took care of all those things: changing the oil in the vehicles, patching holes in the wall, replacing chipped tiles, repairing damaged furniture, and unclogging toilets and sinks. To this day there isn’t a problem that my dad can’t solve. It’s his calling. A fixing-up vision I didn’t inherit. Last week, the toilet in our apartment started acting up, such as not flushing with full velocity and taking a minute to drain and refill. Eventually, it stopped working at all. Oh, if there isn’t anything more inhumane t

Honestly, maybe I should take up a job as a Ghostbuster. After graduating college and finally getting away from T he Paragould Daily Press --or The Daily Mess , as it's more affectionately known to its readers--I swore to myself that I would never work in the newspaper business again. Heh. Well, you see, desperate times make you do desperate things. I've been looking for a job for over two months, which has included rounds and rounds of interviews and assessments. Therefore, when I saw an opening for a job at The Gurdon Times , I had no choice but to apply. Of course the call came for the interview--heck, I have years of experience, awards, accolades, and an applicable degree. What could go wrong? Besides working for $7.50 an hour at a weekly newspaper in Gurdon, Arkansas. Needless to say, the interview went well--in fact, I'm convinced I know more about the newspaper business than the woman who interviewed me. But let's jump to the point: I didn't get the job. The

I figured my wife would appreciate this picture. In case some people get worried, this picture was taken at Pumpkin Hollow last year. I just always found it creepy because she looks so pale--and that smile.

Woo, if there's such a thing as a list writer, I'm in. In fact, I'm available for work right away. Maybe I lose all literary credit by writing this blog, but it's sure a lot easier to write in lists than it is in complete thoughts. Since the wife and I are going to Paragould this weekend, here's a list of the best things about going home: 1) Family. 2) Free food. 3) Mom's free, home-cooked food. 4) Four solid hours of driving. Not. 5) Cable. 5a) NFL. 5b) College football. 5c) ESPN. 5d) Nancy Grace--wait, that's my Mom's list. 6) Cousins. Yeah, I know they are family, but they are more friends. That's supposed to be a compliment, but it doesn't seem that way when I read it. Oh well. 7) Sweets. Though Kasa did make some good no-bake, oatmeal cookies this week. 8) Mom-washed laundry. Heh. 9) Living out of a suitcase. Love it. 10) I don't have to worry about not having a job. Peace. Enjoy your weekend if we don't meet here

Because I’ve been lazy lately, and there haven’t been any random strangers wandering into the apartment, it’s time to break out another list. Things I’ve learned since I got married: 1) I’ll eat cheese cake with strawberries on top (after years of avoiding this topping, making my mother prepare all food “plain” my entire life, my wife forced me to try it—it’s not so bad). 2) I’ll eat vegetables, namely corn not on the cob, which I’ve never liked before. 3) Supreme pizzas are actually quite tasteful. 4) Being “overqualified” for a job is actually Coachspeak—or maybe Workspeak, in this case—for “Yes, you have a degree, which does make you more formally educated than everyone else that applied; however, your degree is a B.A. in English and we’re not sure that it’s practical in any way to the business environment. Good luck serving up White Chocolate Mochas at Starbucks, hippie.” 5) Eating chicken wasn’t just a childhood fad of mine. It’s a lifetime commitment. 6) I think abo

That about sums up how I've felt lately.

On Thursday, I’ve been married for two months. See, I am a good husband; I remembered my anniversary—I bet my wife isn’t even aware of this, since she’s always busy with stupid science study groups (that’s an alliteration for my literary friends), which is where I’m at right now. Woo…anyway. In those two months since we’ve moved to Arkadelphia—for those familiar with my former hometown, think Goobertown on steroids, really, really cheap steroids—we’ve received exactly two visits from the outside world: my parents and her parents. My friends and cousins have abandoned me, but who can blame them? I wouldn’t drive four hours either for an old married couple, a rundown apartment, and some critters. However, we finally welcomed our first visitor this week. Well, we didn’t exactly welcome him, but we did have a foreign mass enter our domain. Here’s how the visit went down. I was playing Madden 09 on Wii online and my wife was doing homework on the couch. It’s about ten o’clock, I'm mindi

Caption (since I don't get that option): this picture is an understatement for what's been happening to AP (28) against the Saints on MNF. Before MNF starts, I have a quick prediction: the Saints will score 14 points so fast in the first quarter that Adrian Peterson won't get more than 15 carries. 1:04 (1st Qtr): I don't even have cable and I can see the Saints swarming Peterson so far. Four carries for 5 yards. Woo. End of 1st Qtr: So besides owning AP on my last-place fantasy football team, I also have Lance Moore. Yeah, I guess his Knights-Of-The-Roundtable name isn't getting him any love tonight. One catch for 1 yard. I'm on a roll so far. Score: Vikings 10-Saints 10 Commerical break: Well, all I see is a blank virtual field. I hear a clock ticking...To think this is how I have to entertain myself. "I'm a grown man!" Start of 2nd Qtr: Brees throws an INT, setting the Vikings and Peterson up nicely for me a TD. But what's this! C

1) The fact that Alex Tejada has apparently gone Rick Ankiel/Mark Wohlers/Chuck Knoblauch. 2) My fantasy football team, which is in last place (I'm blaming my co-manager/wife). 3) 12 carries for LT (only 18 last week). 4) Philip Rivers' passing. 5) Carson Palmer (because I never know when to play him). 6) Driving from Arkadelphia to Paragould. 7) Losing to my cousin on Madden 09 because I missed a field goal. 8) The MLB regular season (but it's the playoffs now, so it's OK). 9) The Miami Dolphins running the Wildcat. 10) Casey Dick holding the ball too long. 11) Job interviews. 12) USC. 13) "Manny being Manny." 14) Henderson State University. 15) Writing lists because I'm too tired to put together a coherent blog. 16) Having 0 followers. 17) Chad Ocho Cinco. 18) The fact that I have Brian Griese, Marvin Harrison, and Torry Holt on my fantasy football team--talk about washed-up has-beens. 19) That I can't quit adding to this list. 20) Eat

Henderson State University is the Oakland Raiders of American colleges, and I’m their Lane Kiffin. Actually, the Reddies just turned me down for a job—again—which makes this a poor analogy. But I don’t care, because obviously a B.A. in English doesn’t qualify you to examine documents—or form sound analogies, in my case. At least I made it to the face-to-face interview this time. HSU rejection notice: Graduate school applications are due soon; I’ll keep you posted. Anyway, the interviews have been pouring in this week, which is a positive after nearly a month of applying to three jobs every day without a response. So, I didn’t have too much time to be depressed about the HSU job (which, honestly, I really wanted because graduate school would have cost me one-tenth of regular tuition), because I had an interview with the AT&T Call Center in Little Rock on Thursday. However, talking on the phone for a mandatory seven and a half hours a day isn’t exactly what I’m looking for in a job.

Honestly, I’m uptight about a lot of things; however, usually I don’t meddle into people’s personal lives. For instance, if you want to smoke pot in your apartment room, play with Barbie Dolls, listen to Creed, play Mario 64 (like my wife), support the Obama-Biden ticket (whose ticket of “Change” is flimsier than the Razorbacks’ defense), or read Patricia Cornwell/David Baldacci/Sandra Brown, or do any other useless things like that, be my guest (I’d say more up-to-date/hip things, but I don’t have cable, so I’m out of the cultural loop). Hey, I’ve watched the first three seasons of Smallville—only two discs away from finishing the fourth season (actually, since I started writing this, we’ve watched the rest of Season 4; if anyone would like to loan Season 5 just send it to OBU Box 3047, thanks)—during my short stay in Arkadelphia; I understand how desperate a person can get for entertainment in Clark County. But…BUT, there are certain things that my fellow OBU apartment residents can

We all know about the Madden Cover Curse and the Sports Illustrated Cover Curse, so I’ll introduce you to the latest football curse: the Reebok Fantasy Files Curse. Apparently, Reebok went out of its way to feature some of its players in short videos, performing bizarre football tricks, to promote Reebok and fantasy football on NFL.com. However, little did they know that they were also cursing the players in the process, ruining their fantasy value. Let’s break down all the videos by position. Quarterback: Chris Simms (Ten): He can throw into garbage cans—even moving ones—but obviously he can’t hit an open receiver, because he just got back into the league, thanks to Vince Young’s breakdown. Just one Longhorn looking out for another. Hook ‘em Horns! On the bench. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVG6FFWykH4&feature=related Marc Bulger (StL): I’m surprised Bulger didn’t get sacked by a blitzing linebacker in this video—that’s the only time all year he’s thrown four consecutive passes

Hallelujah! And that’s not for this newest blog entry. Quick blog note: I abandoned Dribbling Ink last week because I’ve been searching desperately for a job. The honeymoon is officially over, I guess you could say. They’ve even started sending bills, ah! Also, my wife and I made a trip to Paragould this weekend and I didn’t take my laptop. Why? Because I got to watch the Razorbacks, live, moving pictures, streaming audio, Casey Dick interceptions…and now I almost understand people like “Chad” From Arkadelphia. Wait…no, I take that back. We’re still going to beat Texas; I’m just going to avoid a TV this time, because I don’t want to hear my wife’s “I Told You So” speech (Alabama predictions: 28-0, Kasa; 31-28, Jacob). (Arkansas-Alabama note: The game was so bad that, as an avid fan who hasn’t watched any sort of sports for over a month, listened to every radiocast, and defended the young Hogs to countless people [mainly my wife], I left after the first quarter to play football with my

Watch this before you read today’s blog: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4GwrEuULwY Pause. Deep breath. Commend yourself for your (insert degree). Now you’re ready to read. I’ve never been the kind of guy to plan out my entire life. In fact, though I am organized and a little OCD about my living quarters, my future has never been something that I’ve bothered to give much though to…so I got a B.A. degree in English. Why? Well, because it’s what I enjoy: I love to read and I love to write. Isn’t that what life is about? Finding that something you love and exploiting it for all its worth? People used to ask me—they don’t now because the only organism I mingle with, besides a iguana that runs around in the halls, is my wife –“What are you going to do with that degree?” Then they’d smirk and drum their fingers on the table, thinking Checkmate! I always cringed at this question, because I didn’t know—I still don’t know—but I always had an answer: non-traditional teaching licensure…graduate

While listening to Sports Talk with Bo Mattingly , driving home on Arkansas Scenic 7 Byway after another unsuccessful job hunt in Hot Springs, “Chad” from Arkadelphia called into the show. Not that I have any affiliation with Arkadelphia, besides recently moving here so my wife could attend Ouachita Baptist University, but it’s always interesting when someone from “home” calls in to a radio show because it’s like they are representing the town’s opinions—maybe not so much if it’s a huge city like Chicago, New York, or even Little Rock. “Chad” had this message for Razorback fans: “Arkansas sucks! Hook ‘em Horns!” Click. Well, “Chad,” if you read this—and I hope you do (someone please direct “Chad” to this blog if you know him)—here are my thoughts: (see picture) Of course, after absorbing the message, it didn’t surprise me that someone from Arkadelphia would say that. In fact, that’s probably how 40% percent of this town feels. I say that because everywhere I have gone on the OBU

My friend, let’s call him Jared, has a problem. It’s a simple problem: Jared has two girls in his life and he can’t decide which one he wants. Let’s call these two girls Kelly and Sarah. Kelly is hot and always has been. Sarah, on the other hand, has more subtle beauty and hasn’t always had that. But, lately, Jared has realized that he has feelings for both of them. In order to make the right decision, Jared told me the story. Jared fell in love with Kelly the first time he saw her on the playground in third grade. Long, flowing, blonde hair. Blue eyes. Always knew how to handle herself. In high school, of course, Kelly was captain of the cheerleading squad, Homecoming Queen, Prom Queen, Best Looking, Best Dressed, Best Smile, Best Legs, Biggest Flirt; the girl everyone wanted to date. However, Jared was the lucky boy who stole Kelly’s heart with a roll of SweeTarts on Valentine’s Day in fifth grade. Throughout middle school, junior high, high school, there was no doubt in Jared’s mind

There are many advantages to living in Ouachita Baptist University’s apartments, like the fact that my wife’s scholarship leaves us with only a $93 housing bill at the end of the month (of course, without a job that still means giving up cable [see yesterday’s blog]), we conserve gas without having to commute, and OBU provides free internet (like hotels provide “free breakfast”). OBU even provides clothes washers and dryers. That is, if you don’t mind dodging traffic in the parking lot, sprinting in the rain, or trudging through mud, all while toting your dirty underwear over your shoulder to the laundry room. Even then, say you defy all odds and reach the laundry room as clean as you left, your clothes won’t. The laundry room/outhouse/dungeon is last place you’d want to wash clothes that you actually have to wear. There’s usually an inch of water on the floor—I haven’t decided if it’s from improper use of the washing machines or sewage backup— and all the apparatuses (two washers,

No ESPN. No college football/NFL. No cable. How does a sports fanatic reach this point? you ask...It's simple really: In August I graduated from Arkansas State University in Jonesboro, AR, with a B.A. degree in English. A week later, I got married. Now, I've moved to Arkadelphia, AR, so my wife can attend Ouachita Baptist University--where she will walk-on the basketball team--while I look for a career. Or a job. Or anything that will pay (unlike this blog). I've written or recited the above paragraph to any would-be employer so many times that it’s lost its emotional sting (of course, I wasn’t so heavy with the lamenting). Three weeks later, I still haven’t found a job. Thus, a simple recipe for a life without sports: four cups of a B.A. degree in English, mix in a pinch of marriage, chop up half a head of “small college town” and serve it with a slab of cold unemployment. When all else failed, of course, I turned to the internet. Even without cable I could read ESPN.com,