50-48 #19: WE MUST LEARN TO REAWAKEN AND KEEP OURSELVES AWAKE, NOT BY MECHANICAL AID, BUT BY AN INFINITE EXPECTATION OF THE DAWN

(Originally published 2/10/08)

50-48 #19: WE MUST LEARN TO REAWAKEN AND KEEP OURSELVES AWAKE, NOT BY MECHANICAL AID, BUT BY AN INFINITE EXPECTATION OF THE DAWN (with apologies to H.D. Thoreau)

There are moments, many, many moments, when I truly hate being alive, a hatred barely tempered by the residue of a fear of death inculcated within me since the church picnics and Warner Brothers cartoons of my early youth. But then, bright blue sky and beautiful birds above, those moments fade into a vague collection of regrets for ever having held that hatred in the first place. That grand 50-48 football game of our email's golden genesis was one of those moments. (The yellow ticket that marks the event, that stands as a souvenir of the victory, as a portion of the ash from a decimated Tiger Stadium, still sits patiently, framed, on my mantle.) There have been others. Still, they are fleeting. They fly in, absorb that hatred, then dissipate amongst the wounds of the driving days in front of me. And it is sometimes a tricky negotiation to keep perspective on the ratio between what I will call "good" and "bad," though those probably aren't the best words to use.

Then there are other moments, broader in their scope though sometimes faltering in their clarity, that do not provide temporary stays of the existential execution that pulses through everyone on darker afternoons, when the cold takes over and grips you from the inside. Instead, they function to hinder your ability to summon the hatred you ever found so soothing. They are still temporary—everything is temporary—but they have the slope and curve of permanence, an aftertaste that reminds you of the pleasure of simply breathing and eating and walking in the sunshine.

There is plenty of sunshine in Lafayette. In the wider reaches of my imagination, I see plenty of sunshine in Fayetteville, too. It is in these weeks that shuffle past, weighted with the predictions of their uneventfulness, that magical things happen. They falter in their clarity, for sure, but they also hinder our ability to summon the hatred we ever found so soothing. They are the foundation of our devotion to the Razorbacks, to the sunshine, to the wide, wide world outside.

All of this is to say that the Hogs had a big, if understated, week. The recruiting class came together nicely, particularly after Coach Petrino was able to woo former Southern Cal wide receiver/defensive back commitment Joe Adams! In so doing, he began the tedious process of rebuilding Hootie's "fence" around Arkansas. How did he do in keeping the top state prospects at home? SEE FOR YOURSELF. I cannot fathom providing you with any link this week more impressive than that. The kids stayed home. That graphic has been years in the offing, and the fact of its existence after a short recruiting season and the controversy surrounding Coach Petrino's exodus from Atlanta makes it all the more rewarding. To borrow a phrase from Hootie, our national championship is now officially under construction!

Well, maybe I can find a link that is more impressive. Here's a little something for those of you who thought the first three paragraphs of this week's email were maudlin, tedious, or not funny enough. [AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you are, in fact, a member of that subgroup, go fuck yourself.] Here's noted Disneysport a-hole Chris "Boomer" Berman as you've never seen him before. CLICK HERE.

If only our stellar recruiting class (six 4-stars and a heaping helping of 3-stars!) were the only additions to Razorback football this week, I would still be able to send you this confident missive without any hesitation. But wait! There is more! Coach Petrino also hired a defensive coordinator! Willy Robinson was the secondary coach for the St. Louis Rams. And though the St. Louis Rams were a little light in the success department this season, Robinson is an NFL guy. He's a secondary guy, the coach for a position that has been our achilles' heel in the recent past (and, frankly, the not-so-recent past). Though I'm not terribly familiar with Robinson, my devotion to Coach Petrino and his successful recruiting class gives me confidence in the move.

Still not enough football possibility for you? How's bout this? Wait. Before I do that, let's have a musical interlude. INTERMEZZO. (The Hush Sound, "Crawling Towards the Sun")

Okay, back to football. The University is backing our new 5-star quarterback Ryan Freaking Mallett in his exemption petition to the National Collegiate Athletic Association, Ministry of Love that it is. While the move will probably be unsuccessful, its attempt is reassuring. Athletic Director Jeff Long has endorsed the petition and has promised that Arkansas will do whatever it can to get Mallett instated to play next season! Don't let scant possibility frustrate you on this one. Did people EXPECT David to fell Goliath? Did they EXPECT Moses to lead the largest slave revolt in human history? Did they EXPECT Jeffery Dahmer to eat his neighbors? No! We, proud Razorbacks, are David, Moses, and Jeffery Dahmer all rolled into one! And Miles Brand, surreptitious president of the NCAA, wants no part of that ravenous combination. We will, if necessary, carry a locust plague and a case of steak sauce all the way to Indianapolis to get what we want.

Still not satisfied with our football week? Well, think about it this way: At least we aren't THIS GUY.

On to basketball! This week, the Hogs had no midweek game, making Saturday's home showdown with the "University" of Mississippi the only contest on the docket. We won, giving us our fourth straight victory. This is rewarding for a number of reasons: #1) Beating Ole Miss ("university") at anything now that Hootie is slumming Oxford, texting furiously any female news anchor who will respond, is a cleansing soak for the soul. #2) We played like absolute shit and still won. Field goal percentage was way down because shot selection was atrocious. Defensive intensity was there, but the act itself—motor skills, brain function, et al—seemed to be absent the gym. When wins come on days such as these, it bodes well for future contests.

Again, the gifts the Razorbacks are giving, whether in football or basketball, are subtle in their grace and intensity, but they will reap rewards. They will fundamentally shift the paradigm. (Buzzword Bingo!)

And speaking of basketball, let's all give a 50-48 salute to the retiring Bobby Knight: CLICK HERE. Just like Moses and Jeffery Dahmer, he was both dangerous and funny. He was the sort of friend that might try to stab you in the face. But you would forgive him. (That last hyperlink was another musical interlude! That was Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, "False Pretense," for my money the best song about a face-stabbing since Judy Garland's "Hey, That's My Goddamned Eyeball," circa 1934.)

And so it is that through prophets and kings and killers of men, the Razorbacks continue their progress toward any available Damascus, finding the clarity of their vision as the dry dirt road carries them to the championships that all of us deserve. They might happen. They might not. But it is weeks such as these, those languid winter days that move slowly through heated rooms, boxed tissues, and the cold loneliness outside, that will have ultimately sealed our success. In football, in basketball, in the bright sunshine outside. The Razorback football family grew this week. So too did Hogball's floundering mettle. And we will all be the better for it when the droning days give way to games, games, games. Go Hogs Go.

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