Daily Dispatch (9/08): Baylor Balks, Money Talks, F-Bomb Still Fused

It’s All MoneyBall. Desperate to remain relevant, Baylor goes Corso, telling the Aggies, “Hold on just a moment, my friend.”

A & M goes SEC. Hook ‘Em Horns and Boomer Sooners go PAC Double Dozen or SEC or Big 10(20) or wherever they pretty damn well please. Rock Chalk Jayhawk, K-State and Mizzou go BEast. And Baylor, along with Okie State and Iowa State, are left staring with each other, not chosen to play for either shirts or skins, wondering “What da fu just happened?”

Felled by a Beebe gun, they’d be.

So, I don’t blame the fellas from Waco for hiring Dewey, Cheathem & Howe to litigate their way to some relevancy.

Otherwise, it’s Goodbye Big 12, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, Hello C-USA.

Make no mistake. Tradition, fan wishes, accommodation mean nothing anymore. It’s all about the Benjamins.

As if you didn’t already know that.

It’s All MoneyBall, Part Deux. The folks up Lexington way are wondering how to keep up with the Jurichs. As massive as Rupp Arena is. As iconic as the big ol’ barn has become. (‘Nova did win that title there, remember?) As ingrained in Big Blue lore as it is, it’s been trumped by the Yum!.

And those coal company fatcats need ‘em one of them fancy lounges with a anthracite bar to watch their Cats. They can’t be sitting in them regular seats with the hoi polloi.

So, the House The Baron Built will have a Total Makeover B-Ball Edition. Or,be turned into a parking lot for Rupp II.

Loved the comment by the guy hired to figure out what should be done and how. No matter that most everything was done right at the Yum! (Save for fire exits, narrow aisles and remembering long time U of L fans who supported the school for decades), the Bluegrass Boosters will study every arena except . . .

Wouldn’t want to give Louisville the satisfaction, unnerstan?

It’s All MoneyBall, Part III. Someone I know who has U of L season tickets, and managed to get them between the baskets, but higher than he’d like at midcourt, decided to try to upgrade. Knowing how things really get done, he didn’t enter the relocation process, because he knows that was essentially a sham.

So he called the school’s booster organization, inquiring how he could get seats closer to the court?

I’m advised he took a lunch with the U of L Associate AD for Development. Which athletic department official talked of the school’s hopes for a new soccer field and other facilities. Then advised that seats down by the court between the baskets were available.

(Which might be a surprise to the people who did enter the Relocation Process. Silly folks. You thought all the available seats would show up on computer screen. Ha.)

And the ticket holder was advised he could get a couple of those primo seats. And all it would cost is a donation of — please be sitting down when you read this — $250,000.

That’s right, sports fans, a Quarter Million Dollars.

Rah, rah, sis boom bah. Go Team!

F-Bomb Still Fused. Billy Clyde Gillispie Syndrome is alive and well.

A strain has popped up under the Golden Dome in South Bend.

Football coach F-Bomb Kelly was asked about his sideline demeanor during the Irish’s opening L to South Florida.

F-Bomb immediately dug in his heels. “Did I hit somebody? Did I strike somebody? Is that what you’re referring to? I’m asking specifically what you’re referring to?”

When advised of all the commentary about his expletive-laden tirades, F-Bomb must have finally realized he wasn’t at Central Michigan anymore and offered this explanation.

“Yeah, I think I was extremely frustrated with the game. You know, what I have to recognize is that I’m on TV all the time. You know, do a better job of understanding when that camera is on me. Seems like it’s on more than I’m used to. So I’ll have to do a better job of controlling my emotions.”

Translation: “That fuckin’ TV producer better keep his fuckin’ camera off me from now on.”

Coaches cuss. Always have. Always will. But there was something especially virulent about Kelly’s outbursts, especially as coach of a school that holds itself out as a cut above.

– Seedy K

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