If you hit your Wiffle Ball into Jim Boheim's back yard, he'd sigh deeply, wait for you to come by to claim it, and then humorlessly give you a twenty minute lecture on private property law, torts, and how, as a coach, he is really a "teacher," and that he will take this opportunity to teach you not to hit your ball into his yard.
If you hit a Wiffle Ball into Jim Calhoun's yard, he'd scurry out, like some burrowing animal, look around so that no one was watching, furtively pick it up and run back into the house. There the sour puss coach would put it with the 1114 other Wiffle Balls he had stolen over the years, count them all again, and with a glazed look, imagine how their impending sale on Ebay would help augment his skimpy $140,000 per year pension from the state of Connecticut.
If you hit a Wiffle Ball into Jay Wright's yard, he'd smile, jog off the back porch, pick it up, go into a playful little windup, toss it back and yell toward you, "Hey, do you think you can show me how to throw a knuckleball sometime?"
Biggest play was in the first minute of the second half, when "The Suit" hit the second three pointer from the left flank to cut the lead to three. Such shock and awe that 'Nova called the TO and when Preston strode back to his gleeful teammates on the Cardinal bench, his huge cajones, rolling around in a wheelbarrow, preceded him.
Edgar, who at one time (after the A&M game two years ago) probably thought he might be a premier point guard in the country, finally seems to realize that he might only be the fourth best guard on the TEAM. Yeah, he might have made a bad pass last night, but it wasn't too spectacularly bad, and again, he seemed genuinely happy in his teams success.
Mr Jennings...we couldn't have done it without this beautiful MoFo. He had great energy just when we needed it the most. Timely rebounds. A blocked shot or two, and a couple of free throws.
Swop, as Frank points out, will be a very good four year player, and he did get a rebound last night, and he does spell the other big guys, and I know he'll be spending eons in the weight room. But doesn't he remind you of the new born Bambi at this stage...still moist...shaky legs...and all?
Samardo - I keep forgetting that you are a frosh and I know I've been way too hard on you. I like your work ethic. I like the way you can make your free throws. Last night, though, every time I looked around you were on your can, sprawling on the hardwood. It almost seemed like you were playing in quicksand. It seemed as though somebody had drugged you...and not in a good way.
TWILL, I hope your eye will be OK. Man do we have some rebuilding to do when this guy leaves. As I said before, he, even more so than Earl, can be substituted for, but n e v e r replaced.
Have a great day, everybody.