One very significant baseball-related thing happened today, and I'm quite angry. Out of 39 candidates for a special Negro League election for the Baseball Hall of Fame, 17 were elected. They were probably deserving. (The reason you've not heard of them is because they weren't already Hall of Famers. Or because you're not a complete dweeb.)

Anyway, point is, a travesty of justice occurred when it was announced that the great Buck O'Neil, probably one of the 20 most versatile Negro Leaguers and, more importantly, the greatest ambassador the game has known and a fantastic proponent of the importance of the Negro Leagues, was not among those elected. So, now 35 Negro League-affiliated players in the Hall, and Buck O'Neil is not among them?

It's a complete farce.

Let's run down Buck's accomplishments:
- First black MLB coach
- As a scout, signed Ernie Banks
- Star of Ken Burns' Baseball, which did more for the sport than anything in the last decade other than Cal Ripken and the steroid-addled home run race of 1998

Okay, I won't go any further. (The list looks paltry, and it is, but I didn't want to go looking for the full bio. Because Google takes at least .4 seconds to load up.)

Fact is, it's insulting that he's not in. The others that got in today are valuable and important, I'm sure, but Buck is our living link to the Negro Leagues. As a sport more in touch with its history than any other, baseball is doing itself a disservice by ignoring him.

The man is in his mid-90's, and he is vibrant and incredible. His acceptance speech would have been epic and beautiful. Instead, we're stuck with Bruce Sutter and 17 dead people. Sigh.

He was in the Quad a few years ago, and I got the chance to interview him. I've interviewed Paul Molitor and Rod Carew (that's two Hall of Famers) and Fergie Jenkins (that's a third Hall of Famer) and Tommy John and several baseball executives and nobody, nobody, left me starstruck like Buck O'Neil. Truly, truly amazing, and truly, truly despicable that he's not in. (My poor account of interviewing Buck O'Neil is here.

- - - - - - - - -

I'm trying to figure out my thoughts on Sammy Sosa. I just read Sports Illustrated's brief account of his offer, and refusal, of the contract offered by the Washington Nationals.

It's pretty clear he cheated. It's pretty clear that cheating led to most, or all, of his accomplishment. (I think he had a 20-20 year in 1994, which wasn't steroid-aided.) It's pretty clear he embarrassed himself when called to the carpet to address his possible cheating.

But it's also clear that he provided baseball with one of its most memorable seasons ever, and it's also clear - to me, anyway - that he is a huge part of the reason that Wrigley will bring in three million fans this season. Sammy truly made it cool to be a Cubs fan, or to be a Wrigley Field fan.

Referring to Hall of Fame credentials, you can't judge him on the [sketchy] Bonds test. [Was he a Hall of Famer pre-drugs?] Of, if you could, the answer would be a resounding no. Check the numbers from 1997, or from 2004 and 2005.

But it's sure tough to acknowledge that, for this Cubs fan anyway. Sigh, again.

[And, by the way, I'm over the Bonds test. Once a cheater, always a cheater, and get the hell out of our game.)

- - - - - - - - -

You're likely familiar with the iPass, the Illinois toll "zapper." I've got an iPass. I bought it (that is, put down the deposit) Christmas of 2004, when I first heard about the (ingenius, to this former Econ major who somewhat remembers the term "public utility) plan to charge cash-payors twice as much for using the tollway as iPass users.

So, it's supposed to be an ultra-convenient system, of course. Input your credit card on the iPass website, and they'll automatically add more money when you're running low.

Well, my credit card was due to expire at the end of the month, and I've been getting warning emails about the imminent expiration for the last few months. (The card's no longer expired; I've got two more years left now.)

Here's the problem: As far as I can tell, in order to update your account, you need your iPass contraption's serial number. And that means you need to remember to write down your serial number before you return to the house. And, that, my friends, is asking too much of this idiot.

Also, I'm using the Tollway briefly on Tuesday. I'll tell you if I get arrested. I doubt it, though I'm not sure.

- - - - - - - - - -

About that "job ending at the end of the week" thing... Well, probably more like "it's ending whenever you're bored of us, because you're fairly competent and can speak in sentences." It's not true job security, but it's temp-job security, which is more than some can claim, I guess. Cashflow rules.

Speed skating rules. Or, rather, Shani Davis rules.

I don't know if anybody else was watching, (American Idol was still on, it should be noted), but the post-race Shani Davis-Chad Hedrick press conference was magical. They had been "good sports" in the immediate aftermath, when Hedrick got the bronze and Davis got the silver (some Italian [pronounced eye-talian] got the gold) in the 1500 meters. With Melissa Stark, each was appropriately deferent, talking about the other's skills and saying that "It wasn't about [opponent], it was about me skating my race" and all that other crap.

And then, apparently, the press conference itself was about the iciest thing in the world. (No pun intended, until the pun had been noticed. Then, the pun was intended.) Sitting five yards apart, neither addressed the other. They stared straight ahead. They referred to "Shani" and "Chad" like a mom refers to a disobedient toddler - like the other wasn't in the room.

And they still said the right things, about how they were happy to get a medal even though they really wanted the gold, deflecting the tough questions without ever acknowledging the other. And it lasted like that for a half-hour.

And then Shani dropped the bomb, just as he prepared to leave: "I'll just throw this out there. [Pregnant pause] It would have been nice, after the one-thousand, if he shook my hand. [Slightly shorter pause.] Like I shook his hand after he won the 500."

[According to Jim Caple, he also said, while off-mic, "Shakes my hand when I lose. Typical Chad."]

And then Davis walked off. And then Hedrick looked flabbergasted. Confused. Didn't know what hit him.

"Well...well...at least I thought it was important to make the Opening Ceremonies, to soak in the Olympic spirit in front of 50,000 people. At least... at least I wanted to skate for my country in the team pursuit."

Had Davis still had been in the room, he would have been free to say "Checkmate" at that point. Awesome.

You, my fair reader, don't care, but that doesn't mean it was absolutely awesome.

- - - - -

Shani Davis was featured in a Chicago Tribune Magazine cover story at the start of the new year, so I had some knowledge of his story prior to the Games. An angry mom who sends profanity-laced emails to the U.S. Speedskating higher-ups (that never made NBC's coverage, I don't think). Complete separation from the rest of the U.S. Speedskating organization, owing to sponsorship conflicts and charges of racism. Now, the story gave the impression that Shani was largely a victim of his mother's own attitude, making Mrs. Davis "The Mrs. [Antonio] Davis of speedskating." Pure crazy, that is. But it also makes the point that he's slightly embraced the separation, training in Calgary rather than the U.S. But it also emphasized the great story, the black dude from the city in the all-white sport. I guess it's not been done before, but you've been inspired by an equivalent.

So, point is, his name is one I knew, about the only one outside of Rahlves and Bode and Sasha Cohen and the Flying Tomato, prior to the Games, so he was one of the guys I planned to follow. And, turns out, he's one of the top three or four American stories of the Olympiad.

My take on the duel: They're both selfish, and that's okay. It's a team sport.

But Hedrick is so damn disingenuous about it. Big smile, whiny statements. He tried to play the "I'm skating for the team" card when, quite obviously, he was mad at Davis for not helping Hedrick get his five Golds. As much as NBC (or, rather, ESPN) wants you to believe it, no athlete cares about medal counts; they're there for their own glory and accomplishment. (One clause = Three homonyms. Awesome, again.) In Hedrick's case, the goal was breaking the medal record and getting on a Wheaties box.

In Davis' case, it was apparently to win the 1,000 and the 1,500. I believe Davis when he said that he never was asked to skate the team pursuit prior to the Games, and it's verified that he's never competed in it. (It's also verified, by me, that it's an incredibly dumb event. Three guys on the same team skating in a line, trying to skate faster than three guys from another team skating in a line.) And he very clearly was committed to his individual goals: He skipped the Ceremonies to be ready for his first event, starting Saturday, and he skipped the Pursuit so as to be ready for the 1,000.

Pretty much, Davis has spent the time committed to skating; Hedrick has spent the time committed to getting post-Games endorsements. Instead, I'd say Hedrick becomes the third most-popular American male long-track speed skater, and a gigantic dork.

Wipe that smile off your face, stupid.

- - - - - - - -

Honestly, I didn't mean to commit 800 words to speed skating, but I did.

- - - - - - - -

I understand that Northwestern gets only one ESPN game per conference season, but why does it have to be in this situation. It's not the Thursday game I'm concerned about, although Wisconsin's obviously a tough opponent. Rather, it's the Saturday game that follows that just flat sucks. 8:00 p.m. game on Thursday night, leading into a Saturday afternoon game on the road at Penn State. That's the longest trip in the league, and NU's doing it on an extremely short rest.

Normally, you might get a Saturday night into a Wednesday night into a Saturday afternoon. Normally, a team is talking about 60 hours preparation time from mid-week to weekend game (9 p.m. Wednesday, to 11 a.m. Saturday). Here, it's 40 hours, with the longest trip in the league in there as well. Is it a big deal? I hope not. But it sure becomes one if Northwestern doesn't take down the Badgers on Thursday.

I understand that other teams have screwy schedules - in fact, Illinois is coming off a Sunday-home to Tuesday-road trip, losing the second one tonight (although they had 50 hours to prepare) - but NU should get all the favors, as the perennial conference doormat.

Personally, I think Northwestern's going to beat Wisconsin, and I don't think Wisconsin's that good. The Cats simply feel ready for a breakthrough, after strong performances in each of their last four conference losses. But, again, I'm an overly-optimistic dork.

This Wisconsin team is quite different than the one that beat NU early in the conference season, less depth with some academic losses. But they've got the big guy, Butch, who could mean trouble, and Tucker's always a handful.

By the way, each of the last four games - Wisconsin, at Penn State, Buckeyes, Gophs - are all winnable. Legitimately winnable, not "NU will go on the road and beat Illinois" winnable. Carmody's the greatest.

- - - - - - -

Two weeks ago, I purchased the Mountain Goats' All Hail West Texas. The guy's absolutely amazing. I'm not sure what gets me about John Darnielle. It's probably the combination of the incredibly nasal voice and the fact that he so clearly pronounces his lyrics. But, man, it gets me.

After about eight days of obsessive All Hail West Texas-ing, I decided to buy something else. So, when the Arctic Monkeys record arrives here sometime next week, I've Amazon Super Saver Shipping-ed Protein Source of the Future...Now!. I chose it because it has 23 songs, which is a lot.

Mountain Goats Album Rankings:
1. The Sunset Tree
2. All Hail West Texas
3. We Shall All Be Healed
4. Tallahassee

Pavement Album Rankings, for fun:
1. Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain
2. Slanted and Enchanted
3. Wowee Zowee
4. Brighten the Corners
5. Terror Twilight

I don't care to rank GbV-Pollard releases, because that's just not fair.
However, since 1998:
1. Speak Kindly of Your Volunteer Fire Department
2. Isolation Drills
3. Earthquake Glue
4. Half Smiles of the Decomposed
5. Choreographed Man of War
6. Universal Truths and Cycles
7. Motel of Fools
8. Fiction Man
9. Do the Collapse

Ranking reserved on From a Compound Eye

Boring!

- - - - - -

Welcome to new-reader Cookie. I think Cookie's my favorite Gopher, or, Gopher-resident, anyway.

So, I learned of two more job possibilities on Friday afternoon, and I've got tangential connections to both.

Option One: GM of the team used to work for my former boss.

Option Two: One of my better friends in the league used to work for the club, although under a different GM. So that's not much help. However, one of my less-tight friends in the league used to work for the new GM, in a different locale.

Pretty incredible. Is it? Maybe not, however.

[The use of the word "option" is misleading. I've not even contacted them yet. These "options" won't even get mail from me until at least Wednesday. Or Thursday.]

Then, my dad mentioned to me a Sports Illustrated article referencing the minor league Lowell (Mass.) Spinners, who have offered little league teams the chance to change their name from the Yankees to the Spinners for free. My dad, and I, both thought it was a pretty funny article, to which I said, "Yeah, the GM they probably quoted used to work for my former boss."

It really is an incestuous, odd little "industry." I should mention that both "Option" teams are West Coast, I'm, of course, Midwest-based, and the Spinners are in Massachusetts. Further, less-tight friend worked for Option Two's GM in the South, and tighter-friend went from Midwest to three years West back to the Midwest. And there's got to be a Northwest connection here, or a Southeast one, but I don't know for sure.

I guess everybody's just committed to the "dream," and they go wherever they find an opening and a sucker willing to hire them. And I guess most fields are like that, it just seems that MiLB is ridiculous for the fact that nobody gets paid. At all. Really.

Also interesting is that my former boss is the former boss of three of the 145 [or so] general managers in for-profit minor league baseball. Must be his outstanding business-sense and ability to train future leaders of the world. Must be it. Totally.

- - - - - - - - - -

So, Monday starts Week Five at my two-week job, a boon for cashflow, it has been. I'm coming up on job completion and, presumably, that will mean the end of my term there. [I'll owe the company ten bucks, because I managed to lose my I.D. Card about two weeks ago. Ridiculous.] At that point, I'll likely spend the next three or four weeks fully-committed to finding another baseball gig. [I've, of course, been fully-committed to finding a new gig since late November, when I psychologically settled on "Getting the hell out," but I think the end of this week becomes truly fully-committed time.]

I've got three prospects for which there is legitimate interest in my services, and these two other ones for which the teams will have to move quickly. That is, in those cases, my single "in" and my dual "ins" will help me out moreso than had the positions come open in October. A connection or a name or a phone call from somebody else, I've got to think, will help me "move to the top of the stack." In the case of the three already-interested clubs, experience and nice phone conversations brought about the interest.

Of course, you never get optimistic. Never. Because, still, chances are it's not going to happen. And, in that case, you deal. Just deal, punk.

And if nothing happens by the middle of April, maybe I'll just spend the spring and summer watching the Cubs. That'll go over real well.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I sleepwalked [slept-walked?] for the first time of my life on Friday morning / Thursday night. I woke up, standing, and badly needing to use the restroom, and started walking into a wall. It was tough to handle. I really, really had to pee. And I was convinced that I was in a completely different part of the house. [This never happened in my one-bedroom apartment.] So I felt the "gap" in the wall, figured it was the doorway, and POW. Face on wall. It hurt, a bit. So, now I'm scared, thinking I'll just pee all over the floor. And I start flailing my right arm around wildly (left arm still against the wall), and I whack one of the beams on the Rud family foosball table. And I know I'm still in the basement, not more than 12 feet from where I was sleeping. So I flip on the light, look to my left, locate the restroom, and work my magic. Incredible.

This drama probably took all of 9 seconds, but, if you can imagine really needing to pee, you can imagine that it felt like longer than that. Like, maybe 4 minutes.

Any sleep walking stories you'd like to share are appreciated.

- - - - - - - -

Northwestern hung with a great Ohio State team on Saturday, but the loss left me disappointed. This was an opportunity for a big win, and they let it slip through. I don't buy Thad Matta's "We didn't play well" story, nor the awful AP account. I think Northwestern's 1-3-1 mucked up the works, that the Buckeyes couldn't handle it. If the shots had been falling or had Vedran Vukusic gotten a call all morning, NU could have taken it. Make no mistake, the reason Ohio State struggled is because Bill Carmody's a genius. There's not a better in-game coach in the country, and I'm confident that the Cats have an NCAA run in them in the next three years. And, yes, that's all we can hope for right now.

I think Thursday night against Wisconsin is a great chance for a great win for the Cats. Sadly, this precludes another trivia victory for the Youth and Beauty Brigade, which is too bad.

I'd like to take a moment to write about the Olympics, because I love the Olympics.

I'm pretty capable of watching, for hours and hours, speed skating, any skiing event, ski jumping, women's skating, anything involving johnny weir, and men's hockey. I also enjoy curling because, quite frankly, who doesn't?

There are probably other sports in here that I quite enjoy, although I can't recall any offhand.

I don't like ice dancing, because they don't jump. I don't particularly like snowboarding, because it doesn't feel particularly "Olympic" to me. I don't enjoy athletes being "stoked" about their gold medal. I prefer "excited," or anything in heavily accented English, particularly the statement that the feeling is "incredible."

The thing that most annoys me, however, is the fact that, without fail, you know the results of the event before they happen.

I think that there's no excuse for NBC not to show the Olympis live on at least one of their networks. I can't think that, if NBC shows Shaun White win a gold medal live at noon on MSNBC, that their primetime ratings will be even minutely affected. The grand majority of Olympics viewers aren't true "sports" fans - they're there for the NBC-created "human interest"-ing of the individual athletes - but, for those of us that actually really care about the results, it sure is frustrating to know that the Frenchman who'll be the last to run the downhill is going to get the win; there wasn't much drama in watching Bode and Rahlves lay their respective eggs. Oh well.

As the incredible deadspin wrote in their daily "What To Watch Tonight" feature: "Watch snowboarder Shaun White do what he did ten hours ago, and watch speedskater Apolo Anton Ohono do what he did five hours ago." It's just silly, and annoying.

"Plausibly live" was acceptable pre-internet, and pre-ESPN sportsticker and pre-ESPN "Priority Score." Then, only a radio broadcaster could screw it up for you. Now, well, it's just annoying. (Do you remember, maybe a decade ago, when ESPN would show the results but would give you a warning and wouldn't say a thing while they were on screen, so that viewers could turn away? I remember that, and it was awesome.)

I also hate that they call it "Torino." It's not Torino. In the United States, we call it Turin. If we didn't call Athens "Athena," why can we call Turin "Torino?" Because it's cute-sounding, apparently. Turin is sort of cute, too, I think.

I hate it even more that other stations, such as WEMU, have taken to calling it Torino. The Chicago Tribune is sticking with Turin, it should be noted.

- - - - - - - - -

After Chicago Radio Geek summit '06 on Saturday night, I know of at least two more openings. Possible openings? I guess. Local-ish openings? One. Am I late in sending to the openings? Only the non-local ones. What leads me to believe that I could actually turn these into a gig? Only an optimism that is, at times, dwindling. I've gone from hoping for January to hoping for March to hoping for May. But, hey, at least I've got a job of some sort at this point. Otherwise, life'd be pretty boring.

A few days ago I was talking to one of my radio guy friends. I updated him on my goings-on and this pal, a 40-something guy who was corporate before he conned somebody into hiring him a few years ago, said, "So, dude [he says "dude" all the time], I bet this has convinced you that you never want to wind up behind a desk, right?"

"Well, you know pal [I say "pal" all the time, and "you know" far too much], sure it's boring, but there's something not too bad about leaving work every day at five and having actual disposable income."

That's not so say that I'd prefer a desk job over a broadcasting gig, but that is to say that I think I can handle a year of the former. Not that that's my intent.

- - - - - - - - -

Best part of the desk job experience? Gurs overload. Worst part? I never, never talk to the boy anymore. We've gone from talking about nothing three times a day in the fall to, maybe, twice a week. And that's just too bad, especially because he's still got nothing going on. And he's fairly funny.

- - - - - - - - -

Comcast Sports Net, a generally terrible station, did an in-depth Vedran Vukusic story on Friday. I only saw the teaser at six, and not the full piece at ten.

Highlight one from the tease:
Idiot reporter dude: "When you were growing up, war was raging in Croatia. What was that like?"
VV: [very deep, slightly accented voice] "Oh. I mean, it was like a game to me. I was six or seven or eight, and I just loved watching the street light up and running up and down the streets. My parents were scared, but I really just thought it was fun." [Loosely quoted, of course]

Highlight two:
IRD: [With an awkward chuckle] "So, once and for all, what is the proper way to say your name?"
VV: "VAY-drahn VOO-ki-sich"
IRD: "Ahhh. VOO-ki-sich. So the emphasis on the third syllable? voo-ki-SICH."
VV: [confused] "Yes."

I once used the "How do you say your name?" angle as a jumping-off point for an awful Kunle [KOON-lay] Patrick feature in 2000. I would think a pro could do better. But, alas, the Comcast people are awful. Professional jealousy, again. Sigh.

- - - - - - - - -

All the fantastic thoughts on chicken pox and grammar were really entertaining. Any comments here, even unrelated to the topics, are much appreciated. After all, "desk job"="checking redhothalos on an hourly basis." Mid-afternoon comments really brighten things up.

i learned something this morning that, i'll admit, saddened me a bit. i understand that it's a fine medical accomplishment. i understand that it has probably reduced childhood deaths and has potential to reduce shingles.

however, i strongly believe that the chicken pox vaccine is a bad thing.

did you know there was a chicken pox vaccine? i learned it this morning from a temporary coworker, whose three-year-old just received the chicken pox vaccine.

i fondly remember the summer of chickenpox in the rud household. i'd say i was approximately ten years old, and i know that at least three of the rud kids were afflicted, and i am making the assumption that all four were afflicted. i watched breakfast at wimbledon and missed the neighborhood fourth of july bicycle parade. i believe, perhaps, i was allowed to view - from a distance - by looking out the window.

i think chicken pox are a great part of the childhood experience. as i recall, i probably got gifts, or cards, or money. i seem to remember that the boy (then known as "steven") and i played a lot of nintendo super-spike v-ball, and i also remember picking chicken pox off the top of my head.

i also remember that d had a chicken pock [probably not a word] inside his mouth, making swallowing difficult. ahh, youth.

- - - - - - - - - -

not related:
i seem to remember, in elementary school and junior high and, perhaps, high school, we were taught to hit space bar twice at the end of a sentence. somewhere along the line, perhaps college or perhaps high school, this became a single press of the space bar. as i recall, it was explained to me that "double-space" was a typewriter convention for some reason or another, and that the single-space was acceptable for computer-typed documents.

anyway, the single-spaced habit is entrenched in me at this point. however, when i'm editing things at "work," every preexisting file is double-spaced. this means, of course, that i'm required to double-space as well. it's difficult. [especially because i can't use the control-h command, and type find: "[space][space]" and replace with "[space]", like we could do with the high school newspaper.] (this finding indicates that i didn't type single-spacing until college, because the double-space was still entrenched for the high school newspaper, meaning that i was still using that, rather than the single space. too many commas, and not enough coherent thoughts there.)

so, do you single- or double-space?

- - - - - - -

just moments ago, i had a kernel of popcorn stuck in the back of my teeth. the bulls were in overtime. my dad was in the kitchen, and the game was on in the family room. the interaction went like this [slightly abridged]:
me: "dad, do we have toothpicks?"
dad: "i think so. here."
me: "thanks."
me: [removes kernel from teeth. swallows kernel.]
me and dad: [return to family room to watch the bulls]
chicago bulls [on tv]: [blow a lead. up one with nine seconds left, luol deng gets a defensive rebound, falling out of bounds. rather than call timeout, he throws a blind pass. utah makes the steal on the errant chuck, and mehmet okur cans a three with 0.7 seconds left.]
dad: "mmrdbfemhh"
me: "new and exciting ways to lose. crap."
bulls: [get a three-pointer from andres nocioni. however, he pump-faked with andrei kirilenko running at him, and didn't get the shot off in time.]
dad: [flips to leno. mo rocca is unfunny from detroit. i don't know why dad didn't turn on letterman]
me: "dad."
dad: "yeah?"
me: "ironically, i just got a splinter from a toothpick stuck in my teeth."

[that's actually the truth. i cracked it in a few places, then put it in my mouth. i believe my gums have now absorbed it.]

- - - - - - - - -

i experimented with something today, writing blog-worthy thoughts on a post-it note in my wallet. point is, it didn't help.

all cats sports here.

northwestern-indiana was another pretty darn entertaining college basketball game, perhaps as well as the cats have played this year, and its a shame they came up short. they'll win in bloomington before i'm dead. i swear.

tim doyle made more terrible plays than usual, seems to me. his throw into the double-team with nu down six inside of two minutes was huge. seemed that vukusic was open at the top of the key, and doyle tried to force it to the cutting moore late in the shot clock. also, he forced a horrible hook shot, awkward but exciting when it works, awkward and awful when it doesn't. it didn't, and it was a wasted late possession.

free throws are annoying. northwestern can't shoot free throws, which is inexcusable. it's inaccurate to say that free throws cost them the game, but missing four straight down the stretch when iu made five straight couldn't have helped.

i think michigan state is winnable, although not particularly winnable. but somewhat winnable. i hope shannon brown doesn't throw down a dunk like he did last saturday against penn state.

most interesting thing from carmody's post-game wgn interview, in response to the question about why bernard cote, who played very well in four first-half minutes [offensive board, three-pointer, bodying up killingsworth], didn't get off the bench in the second half.

"i wanted vukusic at the center position on offense. he was cutting to the middle a lot in the first half, and they kept knocking him, and didn't like the contact, and that slowed him down."

it would seem to me that cote would have been capable of moving to the wing in the offense, with vukusic as the guy at the top. but, of course, that's not the reason the cats lost.

he also said, regarding vukusic: "he's shooting really well when there's a play called for him. but, in the framework of the offense, he's just not that comfortable."

i only wish vukusic were more fiery, more emotional. the team has no emotional leader, and that's frustrating. it could be moore, could be jenkins if he still played. i guess you call hachad the team leader, but he sets too wild and out-of-control of a tempo. and he's not jitim. i miss jitim.

- - - - - -

got 52 minutes [or so] to spare and a high-speed internet connection. watch the national letter of intent press conference/highlight video here.

to me, NU always needs defensive backs, and always needs defensive lineman.

i really like the highlights shown of three defensive backs:
safety brad phillips
corners justan vaughn and [i think] sidney stewart.

the defensive lineman didn't particularly stand out to me. corbin bryant is the d-end who decommitted from niu and played one year of high school football. he seems slender and athletic and potential-ful. defensive tackles never stand out on video, and the two dts signed by the cats were no exception.

nate williams will be playing middle linebacker in two years, and quentin davie will be a starter on the outside as a sophomore. players.

i love recruiting videos. but not really. the first time i watched a recruiting video, i said "hard-hittin' herschel henderson is jesus."

best part of the video comes from randy walker, about 42:00 point:
"i challenge every recruit. i say, 'we're different. we're unique. i'm not saying we're different-better. i'm not saying we're unique-better. you can go to a lot of schools, and then you come to northwestern and you see a different picture. you gotta want that. and if you don't want that, you shouldn't come here.' and rather than make excuses about how we're different, i rejoice in it."

i say it a lot, but it's pretty neat to support northwestern. it really, really seems like they do it the right way, and that's something to be proud of.

done.