Cory Hedgepeth caught up with former standout Jayhawk, Drew Gooden, tonight before his Clippers played the Mavericks. Drew gave Jayhawk nation a shoutout.
http://theshiver.com/video/cory_hedgepeth/nba/drew_gooden_hedgepeth.mp4Archive for the ‘Cory Hedgepeth’ Category
Drew Gooden gives a shoutout to Jayhawk nation.
On April - 12 - 2010
Samantha Ryan, Top 5 reasons being a KU fan is better than being a Kentucky fan.
On March - 19 - 2010
Samantha Ryan’s top 5 reasons being a KU fan is better than being a Kentucky fan.
http://theshiver.com/video/Sammy/sammyrye2.movJayhawk fan creates March Bacon madness.
On March - 17 - 2010
Although many Jayhawk fans coast to coast can tout a variety of accomplishments in this world, few can lay claim to anything this Jayhawk fan and creator of last year’s Bacon Lombardi Trophy winner, Ben Krout, has created yet another Masterpiece. This time the bacon connoisseur and Jayhawk enthusiast has released yet another masterpiece, called, enduringly, The Bacon Bracket.
Clearly Folks, its March Madness. Included is a picture we got of Ben (far right) earlier this year just before Kansas took out the Bruins in Westwood.
Bitter City, your window table with a view of the Sugar Bowl is now ready
On December - 12 - 2009
Bitter City, your window table with a view of the Sugar Bowl is now ready. When Brian Kelly took the podium in South Bend, Indiana, he did so in the graces of an emphatic and romanticized introduction from Notre Damn Athletic Director, Jack Swarbrick, who spoke of Kelly’s successes, and of his character. Kelly himself, playing the gathered media, fans and Notre Damn suits, spoke of growing up and watching Notre Damn football reruns, after, of course, coming home from church. The speech was withheld nothing, except maybe a firm palm on the Play Like A Champion Today sign. It was candid at times, revealing the harsh expectations of success, of winning, and of being the best. It was family fueled, each of his three children being asked to stand for a small round of courteous applause, his son, Patrick, donning a new Notre Damn jacket.
It was a paradisiacal media room, a sublime tour into a future of hope, with a recent underachieving past left in its wake. And that’s how these things should go, when you’re Notre Damn. Its what character means, its what Kelly was projecting.
In Cincinnati, however, that same character meant something completely different. It meant abandonment. It meant sloughing off your given duties. It meant betrayal.
The Cincinnati Bearcats season is at the crossroads of confirmation. Defeat Florida in the Sugarbowl, you were what we suspected you were. Fall to Florida in the Sugarbowl, you are what we thought you were. Precarious position, I know. Even worse when your coach, your undying leader, your motivator, is confirming only two things: A position with a notoriously famous football program, and that he really isn’t concerned about the Bearcats’ Sugarbowl.
I have heard the many sports pundit’s ramblings, the justifications of Kelly’s actions. But I am not buying into them. Some say that Kelly wouldn’t have been giving his full attention to the team and would have acted as a distraction; others claim a program as large as Notre Damn couldn’t go a full month without a coach. If Brian Kelly is all the competitor that he projected he was during his Notre Damn press conference, then giving his full-attention to Cincinnati’s bowl appearance shouldn’t have been an issue. Notre Damn isn’t even in a bowl game, what need would they have for Kelly that couldn’t wait for him to finish his season and keep his word to his players? The answer is none.
Simply put, Kelly had a responsibility to his players, to parents of players, and to fans, to at the very least, finish a great season. Your integrity isn’t what you say it is, its what you demonstrate it is. Actions always speak louder than words. Words, in this case, have fallen short of action.
Brian Kelly, while giving hope to a legion of Notre Damn fans and donors, similarly, gave a face to the corporation that is college football.
Cory Hedgepeth
by cory hedgepeth.
When Brian Kelly took the podium in South Bend, Indiana, he did so in the graces of an emphatic and romanticized introduction from Notre Dame Athletic Director, Jack Swarbrick, who spoke of Kelly’s successes, and of his character. Kelly himself, playing to the gathered media, fans and Notre Dame suits, spoke of growing up and watching Notre Dame football reruns, after, of course, coming home from church. The speech withheld little in terms of Notre Dame’s culture, except maybe a firm palm on the Play Like A Champion Today sign. It was religion. It was candid at times, revealing the harsh expectations of success, of winning, and of being the best. It was family fueled, each of his three children being asked to stand for a small round of courteous applause, his son, Patrick, donning a new Notre Damn jacket. It was a portrait that even Picasso himself would have had difficulties in painting; but not Swarbrick, he tuned that instrument with vehement perfection, Kelly only had to strum the notes. Read the rest of this entry »
Bruins fans like kettle corn, and of course, an elf with lots of Christmas spirit…my game day notes.
On December - 8 - 2009
Yesterday morning, I woke up, had some coffee, and found myself what I consider to be two of the most compelling stories I have read in some time. One of them, I’ll save as the column’s conclusion. The story which concludes this column deserves to be waited for, much like that fine wine you’ve been waiting to uncork. The first story, however, is so fascinating that holding out on it would be, well, almost insulting. Some things are so great, they must be told immediately. You know, like when you go into a Wal-Mart and you see some old woman talking to a rabbit, you immediately start texting and calling people.
Anyways…
So yesterday I woke up, grabbed my coffee, and consistent with routine, I began delving into a variety of online news sources looking for compelling stories. And I checked Facebook to see what everyone was up to. I did do that. I’m honest. When I hit the LATimes.com, I slowly scrolled down the page looking for any story, sports included, that stood out. And like a bikini model at an outdoor World of Warcraft convention in Wisconsin during the winter, I found one.
Located near the bottom of the main page of the LATimes.com, almost in a position of extreme desperation, a position begging to siphon off some of those million or so impressions a day that the LATImes deservingly receives from people looking for real news. The story goes like this: Basically, a 45 year old man dressed himself in an elf costume. He then went to a mall in Morrow, Georgia, and got in line to get a picture with Santa. However, when he finally got his photo opportunity, he told Santa that he was carrying dynamite. Santa then called the cops, and well, William C. Caldwell III was arrested by Georgia police on charges of possessing hoax devices and making terrorist threats. Of course, the first thing I wondered was if the hoax device law was incentive to carry a real device. The second thing that really struck me about this story was that a 45 year old man dressed in an elf costume, and in line to have his picture taken with Santa didn’t strike anyone as peculiar. I don’t want to come off as judgmental here, but folks, look at the mugshot we are talking about.
–INSERT IMAGE
If William C. Caldwell were in line for some Golden Spoon yogurt, sans elf costume, I might find myself slightly mortified. The third thing that makes this story one of the greatest stories you’ll ever read is that the writer, while naming Caldwell formally, never bothered to apply the same formality to Santa. In other words, he refers to him as Santa.
quote:::::Police say when Caldwell reached the front of the line, he told Santa he had dynamite in his bag. Santa called mall security and Caldwell was arrested.
Are mall Santa’s journalistically exempt from the formalities of news journalism? This is the LA Times, not Perez Hilton. Does the same exemption standard apply to the Tin Man? Or would he somehow have an irreverent formality attached? “The Tin Man, whose real name is Walter Butterfield, first reported seeing the space ship unload cargo when he was posing for a picture with Santa, whose real name is, of course, Santa.”
The final thing I find compelling about this news story is the story, likely behind the story, on how Mr. Caldwell’s story likely made the front page of one of the Internet’s most sacred news sources in the world. I have a theory on how it happened; a vision, if you will. Follow me here.
Imagine the LA Times newsroom. Imagine like seven, maybe eight, maybe even nine people sitting around a conference table.
“Ok everyone, good work, but before we push our new LATimes.com cover stories live, does anyone wish to suggest any last minute stories?”
“Well, I have one, actually.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well, the Kansas Jayhawks are in town to play the UCLA Bruins over in Westwood today.”
“Hey, didn’t Wilt the Stilt go to UCLA? I love that freaking guy! What a specimen he was.”
“Um, no, actually, he went to Kansas, sir.”
“Kansas?
“Anyways, the point being, I was thinking, well, maybe, maybe we put a Bruins versus Kansas article on the front page of the site today. They are both historic programs, Kansas is number 1 in the nation.”
“Ok Bob, but then what would we do with the Elf story?”
“Gotcha sir.”
Ok, so I’m being a bit facetious, but the reality stands, and it stands tall and cold: LATimes.com didn’t have a Bruins article up on the front of the site the day of the game, and yes, the Elf story was on the site. This should have served as foreshadowing for the rest of the day (I had tickets to the game), it should have served as a projection for all the days events, but it didn’t. Instead, I get into my car and picked up a Bruins fan, and headed north on the 405 towards Westwood and historic Pauley Pavillion.
When we arrived at Pauley Pavillion, we headed over to BJ’s Bar and Grill to have some lunch before tip-off. The place was disastrously packed. The beautiful part in all of this? It was packed with KU fans. We are talking wall-to-wall, folks. The hostess tells me its a 45 minute wait. I tell her, “wow, that’s absurd, I’m not waiting.” She replies, “well, its an hour and half before Bruins basketball, whaddya expect?”
What did I expect? I mean, let me analyze this experience a touch more: If all the Kansas fans weren’t eating at BJ’s, wouldn’t the joint be dead? It should be noted, I considered waiting, I love BJ’s. Instead, we grabbed something a bit quicker, watched the Redskins’ kicker miss a chip shot in what would have been a huge upset over an undefeated New Orleans’ Saints, I made fun of the Redskins, then we headed out.
I have never been to Pauley Pavillion. I am a sports enthusiast. Combined, you can imagine my excitement. Sure, I want The Jayhawks to win. Sure, I want them to dominate. But again, the sports enthusiast in me had me somewhat reeling inside to see this historic place. This led to the next problem, I didn’t know where it was on campus. So logically, I saw a kid walking down the street in a Bruins sweatshirt.
“Hey man, where is Pauley Pavillion?”
“No idea man.”
Really? Don’t you go to this school? We continued to walk, and as we did, I saw another local. Again, I asked.
“Hey man, where is Pauley Pavillion?”
“Just walk up the street, past Macy’s, then follow the Kansas people.”
Seriously. When we turned the corner, the line of Kansas jerseys, Kansas sweatshirts, Kansas hats, and even Kansas shoes, stretched infinitely across the UCLA campus. This historic university, this iconic basketball program’s campus, was littered with Jayhawk blue from end-to-end. It almost felt sacrilegious.
When we got inside, we walked over to the food court which is located just outside of the stadium in a roped off area. We bought some almonds. About ten minutes before tip-off, we decided to head over to our seats. As we were walking, I noticed an enormous line of Bruins fans. It must have been 50 people, at least, with arms crossed, waiting, just waiting. My first thought was, ‘is Jordan Farmar hovering over a dunk tank?’ So I ask my friend, “what is that all about?” She replies, “Kettle corn. Its the Kettle corn line.”
Literally, the game is about to start, and by my initial figures, these 50 Bruin fans probably account for roughly 70 percent of the fan base that actually showed up and cared, and they are waiting for Kettle corn through the tip-off. When we get to our seats, I look around, its pretty much Jayhawk nation, except for one old dude with head phones on. He’s a Bruins fan. I look down towards the media area, I lustfully hope to see an LA Times reporter interviewing the team mascot, Josephine Bruin.
–Josephine Bruin told the LA Times exclusively, “Gooooo Bruins!.” More to come, but for now, please enjoy live coverage of Santa’s press conference from Atlanta, Georgia.
When the teams are announced, I can’t figure out if the place sounds like a neutral site, or a Kansas home game. I figure its best to let the Kettle corn faithful fill in at the 10 minute mark before deciding this. As the game begins, as most of you likely saw, the Bruins hung tough for a while, until of course Kansas went on that big run. When this happens, I turn around, and I swear, the old Bruins fan is dead asleep. Or dead. I figure if he is actually dead, someone else will do something about it. I know, that’s a bad attitude, expecting everyone else to help. But that’s just the way it went down.
At around the 10 minute mark, they do this trivia deal. It shows some puzzle pieces covering up a man’s face, but you can kind of see his hair. To the right of that, there is a trivia question. Basically, the question in summary is “who pretty much has the best UCLA stats ever???” As time ticks away, little pieces of the puzzle are removed from the guy’s face. At this point, I hear a Bruin fan say, “Kareem?” At the point he says this, I mean, the puzzle has clearly uncovered enough to make out that the person is white. I wanted to say, “Troy Aikman,” just to see what would happen. Nevertheless, it was clearly Bill Walton. Once his face was fully uncovered, it loomed large over the Pavillion. I swear, at one point, I thought I saw it frown, but I can’t confirm this. I mean, UCLA lost to Portland by 27 points, that’s the kind of thing that could make a legendary alumni frown, even if said alum is computer generated.
Right before the half expires, the Bruins start fighting back and the crowd begins to support them. The cheerleaders are cheering, the yell leaders yelling, Josephine Bruin is dancing, the bleachers are shaking and rocking, kettle corn is hitting the ground en masse. For a moment, I felt as if I was at a UCLA home game. It was kind of fun. The final play is a botched play by the Jayhawks, the lead is minute, the teams each respectively leave the court.
The second half begins. At 15:23, a Wooden quote is placed on the big screen.
–Be prepared and be honest.
Crowd applauds. As the second half continued on, however, it was obvious that UCLA’s depth wasn’t prepared for the Jayhawks. They ran out of steam.
At the 8:00 mark, I saw Lakers GM Mitch Kupchack walk down from the stands and seemingly head for the doors. Seeing he was also spotted at the Kansas versus Memphis game in St. Louis, one has to wonder the depth of his Jayhawk scouting mission. Clippers GM Mike Dunleavy was also in attendance, seated next to Lakers owner Jerry Buss, most likely talking smack on the Nets for ensuring their John Wall pickup by losing every game. Its not easy to knock the Clippers out of the first pick, but darnit, these Nets are working for it. Looking around the Pavillion, you notice a lot of empty seats, I was a bit baffled, I mean, I was just certain the kettle corn line was over.
At the 4:02 mark, the Bruin fan exodus began and the “Rock, Chalk” chants also began to overwhelm the building. It almost felt as if Kansas fans were about to storm the court and put a Jayhawk flag at center court, talk about completely demoralizing.
College basketball is complex. Recruiting is difficult. One-and-done’s don’t give way to dynasties anymore, dynasties are something UCLA knows a thing or two about. The point is, you can’t be good every year. Inside of the Pavillion, they only hang championship banners. That’s what UCLA expects, titles. But you don’t win titles every year as a team. And never should the fans of a team with such a history and such defined expectations allow a team to take over their home court while they are in a kettle corn line, like Kansas did on Sunday.
And about that second story I was talking about at the beginning of this column…
Last week, Allen Iverson ended his retirement saga by returning to the place it all started, Philly. He did so in only a way Iverson could, by holding an emotionally charged and impassioned press conference. As Iverson shed tears, many were immediately reminded of the infamous “practice” press conference. The two aforementioned press conferences define Iverson as a person, but they shouldn’t be heralded as his most famous. Nope, that title belongs to his post-game presser in the 2001 Finals, after losing to the lakers 4-1. Iverson told the media, and the NBA fan nation, “Its really hard to win a title in any sport.”
It was so raw. It was completely pure. It was tough to swallow. Amidst the champagne popping Lakers, amidst the riots in the streets of Los Angeles, amidst the celebratory confetti, sat one of the world’s greatest, most hard-working guards to ever grace us with his presence, now telling us the reality of sports and life. That reality? Not everyone wins. And winning is tough. I remember vividly that press conference. I remember how it changed the way I thought of those that won titles, and those that didn’t. It gave me an entirely new respect winners and losers in sports. Iverson, with only a few sentences, put a face to the reality of losing at something you want so bad, you’d die for it. He put a face to all of us that have ever wanted something badly, but never were able to get it. His words, to this day, I consider legendary. I consider it one of the greatest quotes in sports history. The simplicity of it speaks to so many. Allen Iverson showed himself to the world as just another guy that worked as hard as he knew how, without the promise of reward.
Allen Iverson, you are one of the greatest players of all-time. You are the only player to ever humanize Michael Jordan. You are the only player in sports that I can think of, which I would not want to see ever leave the game. You put it all out on the court, you never fail to mesmerize. You are impassioned. I’m glad your back. Without you, the NBA, well its just not the same.
Cory Hedgepeth
by cory hedgepeth
Los Angeles – Yesterday morning, I woke up, had some coffee, and found myself what I consider to be two of the most compelling stories I have read in some time. One of them, I’ll save as the column’s conclusion. The story which concludes this column deserves to be waited for, much like that fine wine you’ve been waiting to uncork. The first story, however, is so fascinating that holding out on it would be, well, almost insulting. Some things are so great, they must be told immediately. You know, like when you go into a Wal-Mart and you see some old woman talking to a rabbit, you immediately start texting and calling people.
Anyways…
So yesterday I woke up, grabbed my coffee, and consistent with routine, I began delving into a variety of online news sources looking for compelling stories. And I checked Facebook to see what everyone was up to. I did do that. I’m honest. When I hit the LATimes.com, I slowly scrolled down the page looking for any story, sports included, that stood out. And like a bikini model at an outdoor World of Warcraft convention in Wisconsin during the winter, I found one.
