What are we doing, here?
A brief, non-comprehensive description of what might be expected to go on at SOPS
I have not loved college basketball as deeply as I’ve loved some of the people in my life, but it’s certainly got longevity over a lot of them.
Briefly, about me: I worked in college athletics for over a decade, the last five as a communications person (or a Sports Information Director, although that moniker doesn’t begin to cover it anymore) in charge of men’s basketball. I loved almost every moment of it, and even the moments that sucked often provided levity and humor when it was needed.
Then I adopted two kids and having fun at my job was replaced by the need to make money I got serious about becoming a provider for a young, growing family that needs me at home from time to time. And so I bowed out of the game just over a year ago.
I love my kids and the last year or so has been filled with wonderful moments that I knew, even as they were happening, I couldn’t have gotten on a bus headed God knows where, preparing game notes only I would read and a social post only I would care about. It’s been great.
But… basketball.
And that’s kind of the thesis, here. I love basketball so much that, in our first road trip after COVID-19 brought society to a halt, I shed a tear on the phone with my wife after the first game. I didn’t know how much I missed it, only that I did and that I needed an outlet. Two years later, hopping buses and going into mid-major gyms is gone from my day-to-day life, but the little voice in my head kept nagging but… basketball? until I finally decided to leap in with both feet here.
What will you get here? Excellent questions. Two posts per week, without fail. Some weeks they’ll be 2,500-word treatises about a Mountain West player I saw one night who reminded me of Joe Jackson (the one true King of Memphis). Some weeks, it will be a collection entitled “Roguest Hairstyles of the Pac-12.” I want you to remain interested in what happens next, and I don’t want it to be something you could get somewhere else. Because you could do that, and I’d rather you spend the time with me.
A few ground rules I need to establish early.
I will not write about Austin Peay. That is my alma mater, where I worked and one of the three most important places on God’s Earth to me. Of the 20 best things in my life, a firm 14 have come directly from my association with the place, and of the 20 worst things in my life, it played a direct or indirect role in probably seven of them. I can’t think rationally about it and I won’t pretend to.
I will not write about Murray State. Basically, for the same reason. I despise those horse people and won’t be objective about it. Terry Taylor remains, now and forever, the guy who earned OVC Freshman of the Year honors in 2018 over Ja Morant. Fight me.
I probably won’t be “in the gym” all that often. It’s 2022. I can watch any game, devour postgame interviews, scan social media, and do it all from my couch. If the energy in the arena is that palpable, it will come through even on ESPN+, which can be like watching a basketball game through a frog pond in the wrong hands.
I will develop an irrational love for a certain team each year that won’t make any sense. Last year, it was Providence. I loved that team. I will allow Jared Bynum to set up not only residence but a rogue state in my guest room. It will be somebody different each year. Because…
Vibes. More than anything else, this will be directed by vibes. Because numbers have their place, and will have their place here, but vibes dictate searching those numbers for context.
What will it cost you?
[extremely Thanos voice] Everything.
Not really. Two bucks a month; 20 bucks a year. Hey, bummer there; 5 bucks a month, 30 for the year; Substack wouldn’t allow me to be as cheap as I would have liked. For the people who don’t want to fork that over (hey, I’ve been there), the occasional freebie will drop. Don’t do it for me; do it for the children. Mine, specifically. They endure having a father who possesses the sort of mind that spends hours on, “Which players in the NCAA Tournament could form the next great boy band,” and they do it without complaint (mostly because the girl-child is one and can’t talk yet). Also, my wife, who I have promised unlimited Pinot Noir Bota Boxes and bath bombs in exchange for waking me up on the couch because I fell asleep watching Fresno State-Wyoming at 1:30 a.m. CT and not immediately serving me divorce papers.
Anyway. Glad I have your attention. I hope to keep it, grow this community and make it a place you all enjoy. In the meantime, enjoy. Ask questions. Let me know thoughts.