It’s Sunday. I haven’t really written anything in a while. I’ve been off fighting technology like Tron. My computer has been a complete and abysmal wreck over the past few days. Like Charlie Sheen, basically. When I get all this sh*t straightened out, I’m going to name my laptop “Charlie Sheen.” No, wait, eff that. I’m naming it “Rick Vaughn”. Even better. And if you get a piece of it, I’ll let you rename it.
(Major League II quote.)
So what have I missed? Quite a bit, in fact. So rather than stick to one topic in this soon-to-be-diatribe, I’d rather discuss multiple things. Like Bill Simmons does. Except without all the self-effacing letters from readers. Without further ado…
Topic No. 1: Crying in sports
I was watching the WIAA 4A Boys’ Basketball State Championship on Saturday night and noticed that everyone cried. Yes, everyone. Winning team, losing team, didn’t matter. They all found reason to flood the court with liquid emotion. Whether they fouled out and lost (Curtis High School) or conquered and won (Gonzaga Prep), it was all about the big sob.
Then there was this. Chris Bosh tearing up in the post-game press conference after his Miami Heat blew a big lead and lost another game. Choking up over choking. A new standard in sports.
What do we make of all these tears?
Personally, I think we just need to be nice to the criers. Why? So they’ll cry more. Because it’s best to just let it out. And if you think back to when you were a kid, you might remember that in the midst of your tears, if someone was nice to you, you only started to cry more. Consolation in the midst of bawling forced the bawling to spiral out of control. To the point where you started doing that thing where you gulped for air and began to hiccup. That was a real cry. The kind of cry you can’t fake. I want to see one of those during a game or interview. A deep cry, a genuine cry. An absolute weep-a-thon.
Oh, and for the record, Gonzaga Prep’s Chris Sarbaugh (who, believe it or not, is headed to play for Gonzaga University next year) teared up after his team’s championship victory. So look forward to more of this, Zags fans:
P.S. Sarbaugh looks like a cracked-out John Mayer. Just sayin’.
Topic No. 2: Girl Scout cookies
Girl Scout cookies are the greatest. That’s not even up for debate. There’s something about Girl Scout cookies that make them greater than all the other cookies out there. They’re forbidden cookies. You can only have them once a year, really. You can have all the other types of cookies year-round if you want to. But not Girl Scout Cookies. They’re like the free previews of The Disney Channel you used to get as a kid because no one’s parents — and I mean NO ONE at all — actually subscribed to that station before it went mainstream.
How come Girl Scouts are so damn smart? Imagine if every other organization was selling cookies, too. Organizations would be our favorite thing ever. We would love organizations. We might even join them more often.
Think about it, though. If a Jehovah’s Witness comes knocking on your door, you’re usually disgusted. But imagine if that Jehovah’s Witness came bearing cookies. Would you be disgusted anymore? No, you would not.
“Why yes, I would absolutely love to hear more about the Watchtower! And where are my manners? Please, come right inside. I don’t want you getting cold out there on the porch. Oh, and are those thin mints? Well, that looks delectable. Let me get some milk and then we’ll talk…”
And let’s face it, if organized crime sold cookies instead of guns and drugs, we’d all be hopped up on doughy madness like the Cookie Monster. In fact, the Cookie Monster probably wouldn’t get such a bad rap if this were the world we lived in. Instead, we’d all be mad at Bert for being a total dick and Snuffy for blowing all those lines of coke behind Oscar’s trash can in Sesame Street’s back alley. What? You thought he just had the name Snuffy for no reason?
Topic No. 3: Klay Thompson and Johri Fogerson
I’m not really gonna talk about Fogerson. I just threw him into the title so I wouldn’t be accused of biased treatment towards the more high-profile smoker that happens to play for the rival school. Like anyone really cares about Fogerson. At least he outran the cops.
So Klay. Can we legitimately rip on what he did? No, not really. He smoked pot. Eh. Lots of people do that. Although I gotta say, he was pretty stupid to have the pot on him. That’s like having a beer can popped in your cupholder. Or a hooker in your passenger seat. File that under “things you should never do.”
It would have been one thing if he got busted like his teammate, Reggie Moore (who got thrown under the bus when a search of his room revealed a small amount of marijuana), but alas he did not. Klay’s faux pas is akin to not clearing your web browser’s cache. And every red-blooded male should be nodding right now. Because you all know what I mean.
Klay was dumb enough to wander around a podunk town with drugs in his possession. That’s just not bright. Forget the talk about his “selfishness.” Whatever. We all have a certain level of selfishness in us. His act may have been selfish, but we all do so-called selfish things. What he did was stupid, plain and simple. If you’re gonna light up, go home and stay there. Don’t leave. Hit up Taco Bell before you get to the crib, just so you’re properly prepared. But don’t go out in public. Nothing good can come of that. Nothing at all.
That said, I really hope someone else hooks the dude up with killer cannabis before Thursday’s Pac-10 Tournament game against the Huskies. Consider this a call to action. Get Klay high! Now!
Topic No. 4: The Huskies’ ugly regular-season finish
Losing two of your final three regular-season games at home? That’s just flat-out uncalled for.
Allow my lack of further discussion on this topic to signify my complete and utter disappointment. I’m not mad, Huskies. I’m disappointed. You’ve let me down. And for that, you should feel so very, very ashamed.
And now for something completely different: a positive side note.
Saturday marked the final edition of Dawg Pack Dirt for the 2010-2011 UW Men’s Basketball season. I want to take a moment to recognize the (anonymous) group of students who spent the past few months devoting their days and nights to the compilation of this gameday info sheet.
First of all, you should know that this year’s group of contributing Dawg Pack members was an entirely different group of individuals than that of last year. They were Dawg Pack Dirt virgins, if you will. And yet you probably didn’t notice any change in the quality of the material. Because they were that freakin’ good at what they were doing. For perspective’s sake, this was the third generation of Dawg Pack Dirt contributors. The initial generation was yours truly from 2004 until 2008. I then handed the duties over to a new group of students in ’08, before they passed the baton to this year’s group in the fall of 2010.
Second, they did not miss a single game this year. On two occasions, I neglected to post the Dirt here on the website. That was due to the fact that I was out enjoying my Friday night or recovering on Saturday morning. So you can blame that one on me. The students were on their game all season long.
Third, this year’s students dealt with a pretty hefty dose of adversity and still managed to make it happen all season long. Between older fans chastising their effort, media members calling out their lackluster performances, and all the negativity surrounding what is still considered to be one of the premier student sections in the nation, it made the Dirt all the more impressive from the first game to the last.
In defense of the Dawg Pack, the UW marketing department seems to be a real thorn in the side of the fan experience at games these days. Between the fabrication of cheers (the Roller Coaster, for one), the abuse of the college atmosphere (over-pumping music into the arena, for example), and the absolute perpetuation of bad timing (putting the camera on the Dawg Pack and asking them to dance when the Huskies were losing by 20 to the Cougars last Sunday was a nice touch), you have to wonder who’s in charge of Washington’s marketing.
I’ll tell you who’s not in charge. Carol Parrish. For those of you who went to school earlier this decade, around the time I was there, you might remember Carol. She was head of the marketing department back then and she was damn good at her job. Not only that, but her entire staff was cordial and in tune with the student body. How do you think the Dawg Pack got so damn good at what it was they were doing? We had the full support of the athletic department — and especially the marketing department — back then. Not so today.
Carol was canned when the current AD regime was brought in. The current regime basically cleaned house, cutting ties with many of the staff members that predated the Scott Woodward era. Makes sense, in a way, but it still sucked. You hate seeing good people lose their jobs. As much as I like Woodward for Washington’s bottom line, his staff isn’t big on relating to the people. They’re detached, don’t seem to care what fans think, and only appear concerned about making money. That might be okay for some, but if the money aspect doesn’t work out, this could very well be the man’s undoing. You can’t walk through life ignoring the so-called little people.
The athletic department realizes what they have in the Dawg Pack and they spent this past season trying to milk the sh*t out of it. They did so at the expense of the students and the expense of the fans. If you had a problem with the Dawg Pack this year, go talk to the AD staff. They’re the ones who f**ked it up.
I’m not usually one for selling out the guilty party, but it needed to be said. The athletic department made puppets out of the students this year and you saw the results. Maybe they just need to back off and let a good thing roll without interference. Just a thought.
So Dawg Pack, and especially those of you who put together the Dirt, thanks for all your hard work all season long. Makes me proud to say I could be a part of it. You guys are the best and I know the UW faithful agree with me.
Til next season…