Big Gucci Sosa
Sniper Gang.
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OK good.
This is going to be a very interesting time for college athletics. I am for players being paid, but my bet is there will be a ton of schools who don't handle it well.
If a tenth of the athletes that focus solely on football, basketball, and baseball decided to focus on soccer instead then the US would be unstoppable
Just listening to that tool Mike Farrell on Full Ride talk about Henry T and the future of transfers within the conference. He’s saying that in June or July the SEC will propose that you can allow a player to play immediately if he transfers to another SEC school if the school he transfers to gives up 2 scholarships, otherwise the player sits out a year.
Posted this last year in the Pub, but I'm copying and pasting it here because it was 30 years ago today:
My wife and I had our first date on Cinco de Mayo,2930 years ago. Went to a K-Jays game at old Bill Meyer Stadium.
Crowd was light that evening and we picked a spot behind home plate a good ways up the stands to have a little space to ourselves. I'd bought a program and they called out numbers throughout the game to win prizes if the numbers in your program matched. So I happened to get a match and the prize was the opportunity to go down on the field for three attempts to throw a baseball through a hole in a big board — get one in, win a free pizza; two in gets a pizza party; three in and everyone in the stadium gets a free pizza.
I remember thinking, I played baseball all my life, wasn't that far removed from it back then, it was a good opportunity to impress my new date by showing out a hero and getting everybody free pizza.
So the time comes, I go down to the field, they have my name up on the scoreboard and the crowd's behind me. The hole in the board was about the size of a trash can lid and the distance on the first toss was a bit less than pitcher's distance , maybe 50 feet. No problemo. Got my cocky smile on, throw the first ball and Bonk! it hits the board.
I lose the crowd instantly — they just lost their damn pizzas and they were enjoying letting me know about it. I could not believe I'd missed that easy throw and now it's getting in my head. The K-Jays girl moves me a good bit closer for my second throw. I can still save this, get a pizza party... Bonk!
Now I'm sweating, the crowd is surprisingly loud with their razzing and I'm feeling my date's eyes rolling all the way down there. The girl moves me up again and I could have taken three giant steps and dropped the ball through the hole. On an average day I could drop kick the damn ball through there from this distance without a second thought. But this time I'm throwing.
Bonk!
Could. Not. Believe it.
The crowd is loud and absolutely loving it; I must have had some swagger showing when I first walked out there. The K-Jays girl hands me the ball as a souvenir and now I have to make the long walk of shame back to my date, getting verbally abused the whole way. All I can do is grin and bear it.
About halfway through the trek, some little boy, maybe eight years old, steps out into the aisle in front of me and I stop. He looks up at me and says graciously, "I think you did real good." What a sweet and thoughtful gesture. I wanted to punch that sweet little boy right in the face. I didn't need some brat's pity to seal the deal on my humiliation. But I just smiled and said thanks and kept going.
Finally, I got to our section and there she was, way up there waiting on me, doing a great job of looking like ehhh, what the hell, who cares. Despite all the abuse I had just gotten, that walk up the stairs was the longest and most shameful of it all. But she was awesome and we had a good laugh. And four years later she married me.
And I still have that damned baseball.
I was that kid...Posted this last year in the Pub, but I'm copying and pasting it here because it was 30 years ago today:
My wife and I had our first date on Cinco de Mayo,2930 years ago. Went to a K-Jays game at old Bill Meyer Stadium.
Crowd was light that evening and we picked a spot behind home plate a good ways up the stands to have a little space to ourselves. I'd bought a program and they called out numbers throughout the game to win prizes if the numbers in your program matched. So I happened to get a match and the prize was the opportunity to go down on the field for three attempts to throw a baseball through a hole in a big board — get one in, win a free pizza; two in gets a pizza party; three in and everyone in the stadium gets a free pizza.
I remember thinking, I played baseball all my life, wasn't that far removed from it back then, it was a good opportunity to impress my new date by showing out a hero and getting everybody free pizza.
So the time comes, I go down to the field, they have my name up on the scoreboard and the crowd's behind me. The hole in the board was about the size of a trash can lid and the distance on the first toss was a bit less than pitcher's distance , maybe 50 feet. No problemo. Got my cocky smile on, throw the first ball and Bonk! it hits the board.
I lose the crowd instantly — they just lost their damn pizzas and they were enjoying letting me know about it. I could not believe I'd missed that easy throw and now it's getting in my head. The K-Jays girl moves me a good bit closer for my second throw. I can still save this, get a pizza party... Bonk!
Now I'm sweating, the crowd is surprisingly loud with their razzing and I'm feeling my date's eyes rolling all the way down there. The girl moves me up again and I could have taken three giant steps and dropped the ball through the hole. On an average day I could drop kick the damn ball through there from this distance without a second thought. But this time I'm throwing.
Bonk!
Could. Not. Believe it.
The crowd is loud and absolutely loving it; I must have had some swagger showing when I first walked out there. The K-Jays girl hands me the ball as a souvenir and now I have to make the long walk of shame back to my date, getting verbally abused the whole way. All I can do is grin and bear it.
About halfway through the trek, some little boy, maybe eight years old, steps out into the aisle in front of me and I stop. He looks up at me and says graciously, "I think you did real good." What a sweet and thoughtful gesture. I wanted to punch that sweet little boy right in the face. I didn't need some brat's pity to seal the deal on my humiliation. But I just smiled and said thanks and kept going.
Finally, I got to our section and there she was, way up there waiting on me, doing a great job of looking like ehhh, what the hell, who cares. Despite all the abuse I had just gotten, that walk up the stairs was the longest and most shameful of it all. But she was awesome and we had a good laugh. And four years later she married me.
And I still have that damned baseball.
Farrell also just said that Henry T is still thinking Ohio State and waiting on the how the SEC rules towards the in conference transfers to see if Bama is still possible or if even Saban would give up 2 scholarships for Henry T, which I think would be dumb. He also said that Florida has become a player in trying to get Henry T to transfer. So **** him IMO. It’s one thing to consider Bama given their dominance and record of sending guys into the league, but to to consider Bama and FLORIDA, **** you man. Hit the bricks. You’re a fraud of a guy if you would do your friends and teammates like that.I'm OK with that. There's got to be a 2 way street here.
....and he is in fact a tool bag