In the pleasant aroma of Louisville’s 41-17 evisceration of the Syracuse Orange, there is but one question.
And it is not where in the hell were all those U of L is a football school fans on a photogenic, weather immaculate, Howard Schnellenberger-perfect, leaves aglow, Grantland Rice crisp, autumn afternoon? Because they sure weren’t at Papa J’s, where the empty faded red seats just about equaled those filled with the base that chose to attend.
No, the real question is, what factors contributed to the first sighting this season of the Bobby Petrino offense fans have been expecing since Tom Jurich cut the devil’s bargain to bring the scandal-prone coach back for a second go round?
As usual, there are many reasons for the offensive onslaught that played out yesterday, each responsible in a greater or lesser percentage, depending on your personal perspective.
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Before I mention Kyle Bolin, whom I suppose to be most fans immediate factor numero uno, I must go to what has been the major offensive flaw all season. The offensive line. Continue reading Louisville CardFile: Syracuse
Other than Gisele Bündchen, in the thrill of victory, agony of defeat Wide Wide Wide World of Sports (wider than wide, wide Dixie Highway), the happiest person after Pete Carroll’s epic strategic Super Bowl blunder was Rick Pitino.
Because, The Rick was the leader in the clubhouse, after allowing, condoning then prevaricating a last second trey in regulation against North Carolina, by Montrezl Harrell for heavens’ sake, for ESPY Award’s Boo Boo of the Year.
Fortunately, for the Cardinal hoops mentor, as well as the perplexed, but eventually relieved U of L faithful, the Cards prevailed over the Tar Heels, making for a Saturday Night Alright Alright Alright, save the fighting for the contestants at the end of that football game.
As well as, all together now, The Thrill of Victory. Continue reading Hoopaholic’s Gazette (Diggin’ the Scene with a Pigskin Lean)
Brad Evans was a dude in full.
A Hemingway character — He eventually drank himself to death after working on barges just for the experience — he was as smart as he was mean, as willing to argue politics as he was to break a bottle of Sterling over your head in a bar fight.
The transfer from Wofford played line for Frank Camp’s Cardinals in the mid not-so-halcyon 60s, toiling in the grime that passed for turf at the one-sided all-purpose facility, passed off as a football stadium, at the State Fairgrounds.
Evans was an imposing presence on the then quaintly bucolic Belknap campus.
He could rouse the rabble with the best of them.
In that capacity, he led the several hundred or so protestors who marched to The Thinker, to rally against school prexy Philip Davidson’s proclamation that the then woefully underfunded municipal university was seriously considering dropping football.
Were Evans still around, I trust he’d be as dumbfounded and exhilarated as I am at what’s happened with U of L sports. Continue reading Louisville Cardinals in the Big Time Now