An IRS audit. A blown radiator hose in the midst of rush-hour traffic. Chickenpox.
Football
HOW THEY SCORED
If he spurns the NBA and returns to Arizona for another year, junior Jordan Hill will get the chance to play for his fourth coach. But don’t count on that happening.
The scoreboard usually is the final word, but Oregon coach Mike Bellotti didn’t let his team’s 30-point loss two years ago in the Las Vegas Bowl shake his belief.
Mike Stoops arrived in town with his Arizona football team Tuesday evening, put the Wildcats through a snow-flurried practice the following morning, stepped inside the Lied Athletic Complex at UNLV and answered questions about his program’s first bowl game in a decade.
UNLV wouldn’t turn down this record, and nor would most football teams.
I’m no expert on football. At Provo High School I played in the orchestra and wrote for the school paper. The flag-football team I captained during PE class lost every game. But what I lack in sports knowledge, I make up for in loyalty. I grew up in the shadow of “Y” Mountain and have been a solid BYU fan as long as I can remember.
Over the past decade, a University of Arizona football fan’s entire smack-talking arsenal has consisted of a couple of sentences:
Arizona offensive coordinator Sonny Dykes learned a lot about football from his father, Spike, the winningest coach in Texas Tech history. But he didn’t inherit his dad’s run-first philosophy.
There is a Hawaiian legend about mythical creatures who wander island forests at night, using their vast strength for achievements in engineering and construction before the sun rises. They are said to be no more than 2 feet tall, and some reach just 6 inches. Magical little people.
Mike Stoops watched from the press box two years ago, longing to be on the sideline, as Brigham Young beat Oregon 38-8 in the Las Vegas Bowl.
For the Las Vegas Bowl, Sunday was like Christmas morning for a child who’d already peeked at his presents.
The national glare on college football is its usual powerful November self, what with more BCS updates than holiday sales and those in South Bend buying out the town’s supply of toilet paper to wrap around Charlie Weis’ house and trees and car and anything else connected with the besieged and yet handsomely compensated Notre Dame coach.