Mississippi State has beaten the University of Mississippi in their annual football rivalry game for the second year in a row. This has been stated many different ways by many different people, but the fact remains, “there’s certainly one program in this state that’s on the rise and headed in the right direction.”
So why is the 2010 Egg Bowl victory for Mississippi State so awesome? Well I’ll hazard a shot at an explanation.
- This is the first time MSU has won the Egg bowl back-to-back since ’98 and ’99. The last time MSU won 3 in a row was 1940-1942. Cue Dan Mullen, “We plan on partying like its 1940. Also, MSU last, and only, (unofficial) National Championship was 1941.
- The win puts us at 8-4 (4-4 SEC) and in line to go to the Chick-Fil-A Bowl (formerly Peach) in Atlanta on New Year’s Eve.
-If we had lost, MSU fans could at least use the “better season, actual bowl” excuse
that Mississippi fans used last year. But we didn’t. So we can say both.
-If we had lost, Mississippi fans could recite the score like we did last year (41-27, by the way). They would use this as a counter-argument when we called them the Care-Bears or the Fightin’ Yogis. But we didn’t.
-If we had lost, MSU fans would be forced to endure the miserable weather and condition of the Liberty Bowl in Memphis. But we didn’t.
-The win is big for the next several years as we continue to recruit the State of Mississippi hard. We have already “stolen” two recruits (Market and Brassell) from South Panola, which is traditionally a Univ of Mississippi funnel program. Why would recruits want to play for the SEC school in Mississippi where fans don’t show up? If you thought MSU had a jump in attendance THIS year, just wait. I hope Scott Stricklin and company are working on those expansion plans.
-There will be 53,123 people at the Maroon and White spring game this year.
- Dan wants to stay at a program where he can build it up. He’s always said he wants to get this team to Atlanta (for the SEC Championship game). He has definitely earned his paycheck and more this season and we treat him and his family right, I think he’ll want to stay here for a long time.
-LaDarius Perkins, Chris Relf and Vick Ballard: need I say more?
-I do? The loss of Anthony “Boobie” Dixon was a worry for many a bulldog faithful over the off-season. While one can never replace “The Prophet”, the Bulldogs have definitely grinded it out in Boobie’s honor this season as he grinds on in San Francisco. Chris Relf threw, yes threw, for 288 yards. Perkins had 238 total yards. Ballard has been a rock all season and, while he didn’t have a stellar game stat-wise, Mississippi had to stack the box against him and allowed room for players like Perkins on the outside. 498 total yards from our beloved Bulldogs. 498.
-The Golden Egg stays in our trophy case in Starkville and the Mississippi Black Bears go into hibernation for the winter.
-MSU 31, UM 23. I love Mississippi State University.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Alex and Ernest, with a side of Tobasco
The grass blades flicked up and stuck upon the heel of Alex Stiebling’s right shoe. His left was perfectly clean, as that was hitting hard cement with ever other step. He must have looked a bit odd: running down the exact seam of park grass and sidewalk, one side recently wet, the other a designated place for the exact activity he was engaging in. However, Ernest did not care about what the people in the park thought of Alex’s running style. In fact, Ernest did not care about much at all, except for running. Oh, how he had wanted to run like this for several days now. He longed for the crisp autumn air and the feel of the wind against his face as he chased after nothing in particular. At least, one would reasonably assume Ernest was longing for these things. No one could know for sure because Ernest is a dog, and when he learns to communicate with humans, there will be bigger questions to ask than, “What do you think about when you run?”
Ernest might seem like a strange name for a dog, but Alex had a perfectly good reasoning for naming him such. Alex Stiebling is a writer by trade, and studying other writers is a passion of his. When his girlfriend brought a salt and pepper colored shepherd to his apartment three years ago as a birthday gift, Alex was at a loss for words for perhaps the first time in his life. He was amazed at the generosity of Emma (they had only been dating for two months prior to his twenty-fourth birthday) as well as the simple fact of a dog in his two –bedroom apartment. When Emma demanded a name in a cute huff of a voice, Alex fumbled over his decision before laying eyes on a copy of The Sun Also Rises, which was resting carelessly amongst papers and notes around his typewriter across the room. He jolted out “Ernest!”, which of course came from the famous novelist Ernest Hemingway, and Emma took to it right away.
Given his choice, Alex would have named the dog Tobasco, and called it “Toby” for short. However, he shouted out “Ernest!” and that was that. For the first few months of their time together, Alex called the dog “Toby” under his breath, but it never really seemed right. Perhaps it was the salt and pepper hair that gave him a distinguished look which demanded far more than “Toby”. Perhaps it was the fact that Alex knew if you put the dog on his haunches and up in a chair in front of a typewriter, he was a dead Hemingway look-a-like. Whatever the reason, the dog’s name was Ernest, and there was no going back on that.
Ernest might seem like a strange name for a dog, but Alex had a perfectly good reasoning for naming him such. Alex Stiebling is a writer by trade, and studying other writers is a passion of his. When his girlfriend brought a salt and pepper colored shepherd to his apartment three years ago as a birthday gift, Alex was at a loss for words for perhaps the first time in his life. He was amazed at the generosity of Emma (they had only been dating for two months prior to his twenty-fourth birthday) as well as the simple fact of a dog in his two –bedroom apartment. When Emma demanded a name in a cute huff of a voice, Alex fumbled over his decision before laying eyes on a copy of The Sun Also Rises, which was resting carelessly amongst papers and notes around his typewriter across the room. He jolted out “Ernest!”, which of course came from the famous novelist Ernest Hemingway, and Emma took to it right away.
Given his choice, Alex would have named the dog Tobasco, and called it “Toby” for short. However, he shouted out “Ernest!” and that was that. For the first few months of their time together, Alex called the dog “Toby” under his breath, but it never really seemed right. Perhaps it was the salt and pepper hair that gave him a distinguished look which demanded far more than “Toby”. Perhaps it was the fact that Alex knew if you put the dog on his haunches and up in a chair in front of a typewriter, he was a dead Hemingway look-a-like. Whatever the reason, the dog’s name was Ernest, and there was no going back on that.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
God Is Great: Prayers Answered
In the explosion that was CamTwitterGate today, I neglected to tell many of you the great news that I received last night: MY DAD'S MOVING BACK IN!!!!
I can't begin to describe how this makes my sister, mom, and me feel, but I will try in tomorrow's longer blog post. I'm exhausted right now and need sleep, but I am overjoyed to have my father back under the same roof as my mother 24 hours a day. What a blessing!
Matthew 11:28: "(and Jesus said,) "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
I can't begin to describe how this makes my sister, mom, and me feel, but I will try in tomorrow's longer blog post. I'm exhausted right now and need sleep, but I am overjoyed to have my father back under the same roof as my mother 24 hours a day. What a blessing!
Matthew 11:28: "(and Jesus said,) "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
Sunday, November 7, 2010
How and Why
Why? Why do you say that we do not want you back? Why do you allow us to cry out loud for your name while you do not answer? Why do you come, and then leave.
I want to know how you could allow such pain to come down upon yourself and us at the same time. I do not understand your pain, but I do believe that it exists. I feel it every time you walk in the door, only to leave a few hours later with a half-hearted hug and a "see you later". Neither of us knows when "later" will be. I cannot be mad, nor can I allow you to continue down this destructive path. You have to know what's going on at, what you used to call, home. We wake and cry. We eat and cry. WE drive, talk and sleep..... and cry. Do you?
Yes, I know that you do. I do not know why you left and I wish that you would tell me, and her, as I sit here each morning holding her tightly as she cries.... she cries out for you. WHY? I do not know. I do not understand. Why does she cry out for a man who acts like he no longer loves her. And why can't I be mad at you for that? WHY?
Why do I allow these tears to fall as I form these words about you in head every day. Spoken or unspoken, these words still come.
Dad.
Dad. I do not want to have to hug my mother at night because you aren't here to do so. I want to hug her as her son, not as some morphed view of the son and husband she once had. The two men in her life that she once relied on, both changing, and slipping away with each passing day, hour, minute. I do not want to tell you what's for dinner because you aren't here to smell and taste the food that your wife still cooks for four, instead of three. I do not want to pick up the paper every morning because you aren't here to take the dog out and peruse the sports section.... like you used to. Everything... like you used to. I do not want to, Dad, but I do.
Can't you see? Can't you hear? If so, then WHY aren't you here to feel? To feel our pain - to understand our relentlessness. We know of yours...so why do you not care of ours. In fact you DO. But how are we to know this?
I can see you now. Alone. Sitting on your couch watching your TV in your apartment away from your family. I see that through these blurry, wet eyes as I think about how alone I have felt and been these last seven months. AND I HATE IT. I know you hate it too. Now show me.
Please come back home.
I miss you.
I want to know how you could allow such pain to come down upon yourself and us at the same time. I do not understand your pain, but I do believe that it exists. I feel it every time you walk in the door, only to leave a few hours later with a half-hearted hug and a "see you later". Neither of us knows when "later" will be. I cannot be mad, nor can I allow you to continue down this destructive path. You have to know what's going on at, what you used to call, home. We wake and cry. We eat and cry. WE drive, talk and sleep..... and cry. Do you?
Yes, I know that you do. I do not know why you left and I wish that you would tell me, and her, as I sit here each morning holding her tightly as she cries.... she cries out for you. WHY? I do not know. I do not understand. Why does she cry out for a man who acts like he no longer loves her. And why can't I be mad at you for that? WHY?
Why do I allow these tears to fall as I form these words about you in head every day. Spoken or unspoken, these words still come.
Dad.
Dad. I do not want to have to hug my mother at night because you aren't here to do so. I want to hug her as her son, not as some morphed view of the son and husband she once had. The two men in her life that she once relied on, both changing, and slipping away with each passing day, hour, minute. I do not want to tell you what's for dinner because you aren't here to smell and taste the food that your wife still cooks for four, instead of three. I do not want to pick up the paper every morning because you aren't here to take the dog out and peruse the sports section.... like you used to. Everything... like you used to. I do not want to, Dad, but I do.
Can't you see? Can't you hear? If so, then WHY aren't you here to feel? To feel our pain - to understand our relentlessness. We know of yours...so why do you not care of ours. In fact you DO. But how are we to know this?
I can see you now. Alone. Sitting on your couch watching your TV in your apartment away from your family. I see that through these blurry, wet eyes as I think about how alone I have felt and been these last seven months. AND I HATE IT. I know you hate it too. Now show me.
Please come back home.
I miss you.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
More thoughts on death, God, friends, life.
Nick Bell was 20 years old and lost his short battle with cancer this afternoon. I am 20 years old.
This is a sobering thought.
Nick Bell was a member of the Mississippi State football team, and I watched him play live and on TV. He is in a montage video shown leading the team out of the tunnel.
Three days ago, twitter, facebook, and the MSU message boards were inundated with anticipation over the upcoming elections and football results. Today, those same social networking sites help to spread the news of the mourning over the loss of a friend, brother, son, teammate, and much much more. God was clearly using people today to communicate the love and admiration they shared for one of His children.
I'm not a doctor, but from what I understand, the cancer Nick was diagnosed with is extremely rare. I am just glad that he did not suffer for very long, and that his family, both blood and bulldog, got to see him before he passed on into the hands of his savior. Nick was diagnosed with Synovial Sarcoma, which occurs in only 5-10% of new soft tissue sarcoma (one of the rarest forms of cancer in general) a year. So the cancer Nick had was one of the rarest of the rare forms of cancer. http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Sites-Types/synovial
We are taught, hopefully, that our God is sovereign and all-powerful. If we are to believe that God is all-power, and that God's glory reigns over-arching in every situation, then we have to believe that God was at work in Nick Bell's life, and, therefore, God was with Nick until the very end.
What happened at the Junction on MSU's campus tonight was very moving. If you weren't there or haven't heard, I'll link the video of several hundred bulldawgs gathering at 7:36 (7 wins this season for #36, Nick's number) to ring their bells for our Bell. It was very moving, very emotional, and very touching. After, from what I'm told, the group joined hands in an impromptu motion of unity, and sang the hymn, "Amazing Grace". All the while, everyone's hearts and minds were no doubt on Nick Bell, #36. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PtUchACSsqI&feature=player_embedded
The football team now needs our support more than ever. They have lost their brother, one of their own. While practice will be a distraction from the mourning, it will also be a daily reminder of where they saw and knew Nick the most: on the field, wearing maroon.
Every time we ring our bells, every time we put on maroon, and every time we pass by or step in Davis-Wade Stadium, may we do so with the knowledge that life is precious, and the memory of the great #36: our fallen brother bulldog. I wrote a small "RIP #36" on my bell tonight, and I encourage all of you to do the same. I look at my bell almost every day, and hopefully this will be a simple reminder of our dear bulldog, Nick.
We love and miss you Nick.
Edited to add: Sorry I can't work out the links right now. If you copy and past them into your URL bar, they should work.
This is a sobering thought.
Nick Bell was a member of the Mississippi State football team, and I watched him play live and on TV. He is in a montage video shown leading the team out of the tunnel.
Three days ago, twitter, facebook, and the MSU message boards were inundated with anticipation over the upcoming elections and football results. Today, those same social networking sites help to spread the news of the mourning over the loss of a friend, brother, son, teammate, and much much more. God was clearly using people today to communicate the love and admiration they shared for one of His children.
I'm not a doctor, but from what I understand, the cancer Nick was diagnosed with is extremely rare. I am just glad that he did not suffer for very long, and that his family, both blood and bulldog, got to see him before he passed on into the hands of his savior. Nick was diagnosed with Synovial Sarcoma, which occurs in only 5-10% of new soft tissue sarcoma (one of the rarest forms of cancer in general) a year. So the cancer Nick had was one of the rarest of the rare forms of cancer. http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Sites-Types/synovial
We are taught, hopefully, that our God is sovereign and all-powerful. If we are to believe that God is all-power, and that God's glory reigns over-arching in every situation, then we have to believe that God was at work in Nick Bell's life, and, therefore, God was with Nick until the very end.
What happened at the Junction on MSU's campus tonight was very moving. If you weren't there or haven't heard, I'll link the video of several hundred bulldawgs gathering at 7:36 (7 wins this season for #36, Nick's number) to ring their bells for our Bell. It was very moving, very emotional, and very touching. After, from what I'm told, the group joined hands in an impromptu motion of unity, and sang the hymn, "Amazing Grace". All the while, everyone's hearts and minds were no doubt on Nick Bell, #36. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PtUchACSsqI&feature=player_embedded
The football team now needs our support more than ever. They have lost their brother, one of their own. While practice will be a distraction from the mourning, it will also be a daily reminder of where they saw and knew Nick the most: on the field, wearing maroon.
Every time we ring our bells, every time we put on maroon, and every time we pass by or step in Davis-Wade Stadium, may we do so with the knowledge that life is precious, and the memory of the great #36: our fallen brother bulldog. I wrote a small "RIP #36" on my bell tonight, and I encourage all of you to do the same. I look at my bell almost every day, and hopefully this will be a simple reminder of our dear bulldog, Nick.
We love and miss you Nick.
Edited to add: Sorry I can't work out the links right now. If you copy and past them into your URL bar, they should work.
Putting things in perspective: RIP Nick Bell
I'll be short. In 30 minutes I will step outside to honor a fallen Bulldog. Nick Bell, 20, lost a short battle with cancer this morning. I hate that cliche, really, because "loss" implies that there is nothing to look forward to. Yes, he lost his physical life, but Nick Bell will gain so much more in the next one. Christ has called Nick home, provided he is a Christian, and I hope that his family finds hope and peace in this fact. I know I do.
Everything else seems so trivial now.
36 clangs for #36 at 7:36.
Rest in Peace, Nick. You were loved. You will be missed.
Everything else seems so trivial now.
36 clangs for #36 at 7:36.
Rest in Peace, Nick. You were loved. You will be missed.
Monday, November 1, 2010
The people, not the place
Kind of a more laid back post today...just some thoughts from the weekend:
I'm a people person. I love to be around people...especially friends...especially friends at Mississippi State. I went up to Starkville this weekend to see MSU beat Kentucky (to go 7-2 and be ranked 20). I fell in love with the city and people all over again, as I have every time I've visited this year. I realized that it wasn't where I was that lead to me having a great weekend, but rather, who I was with.
This semester of being at home instead of MSU and working instead of taking classes would be much easier on me if my friends were with me as I went through it. But then, what would be the point of the lesson that God is teaching me?
What I'm saying is this: it's not where you are, what you do, or how you do it that make the best memories; it's who you share those memories with that make them so special.
When Johnathon Banks picked off Tim Tebow last year and returned it 100+ yards for a TD, the entire stadium went absolutely insane. I don't remember anything that happened after Banks hit the 50 yard line, because I was engulfed in the biggest group hug on record. The entire student section was embracing itself. It was magic.
A very similar thing happened this weekend, and it was thanks, again, to Johnathon Banks.
31 seconds left on the clock, MSU is up by a touchdown, 24-17. Kentucky has done whatever they want on this drive, and who's to think it will be any different as Mike Hartline took the snap on 4th and 10 from our 20 yd line. The ball goes up to the left corner of the endzone (in front of the student section), and so does J-Banks. When #13 came down with Hartline's pass. I went nuts. One of my best friends and roommate from last year, Clark, went nuts. My friends behind me, to my left, right, and in front of me went nuts. It was the loudest I have ever heard the student section at Scott Field, as I turned around to watch the whiskey shower and high five people (all the while ringing my bell), I couldn't help but smile in the company of my best friends.
The drinks continued to rain down upon us, and I really didn't care. MSU was now 7-2 on one of the most exciting plays all year, and 54 thousand people were partying at the same time. As the bells clanged along with the band (I assume they were playing, I couldn't hear anything ), and as I sang hoarsely along with everyone, arm in arm, proclaiming "loyal friends we'll always be", I thought about the people I was with, not where I was. We then proceeded down the tunnel and one of my favorite sounds hit my ears: cowbells clanging under the stadium after a bulldog win. It was magical, and all because of the wonderful people that call Mississippi State University "home".
The people I love, in the place I love. It doesn't get any better than that. Hail State.
I'm a people person. I love to be around people...especially friends...especially friends at Mississippi State. I went up to Starkville this weekend to see MSU beat Kentucky (to go 7-2 and be ranked 20). I fell in love with the city and people all over again, as I have every time I've visited this year. I realized that it wasn't where I was that lead to me having a great weekend, but rather, who I was with.
This semester of being at home instead of MSU and working instead of taking classes would be much easier on me if my friends were with me as I went through it. But then, what would be the point of the lesson that God is teaching me?
What I'm saying is this: it's not where you are, what you do, or how you do it that make the best memories; it's who you share those memories with that make them so special.
When Johnathon Banks picked off Tim Tebow last year and returned it 100+ yards for a TD, the entire stadium went absolutely insane. I don't remember anything that happened after Banks hit the 50 yard line, because I was engulfed in the biggest group hug on record. The entire student section was embracing itself. It was magic.
A very similar thing happened this weekend, and it was thanks, again, to Johnathon Banks.
31 seconds left on the clock, MSU is up by a touchdown, 24-17. Kentucky has done whatever they want on this drive, and who's to think it will be any different as Mike Hartline took the snap on 4th and 10 from our 20 yd line. The ball goes up to the left corner of the endzone (in front of the student section), and so does J-Banks. When #13 came down with Hartline's pass. I went nuts. One of my best friends and roommate from last year, Clark, went nuts. My friends behind me, to my left, right, and in front of me went nuts. It was the loudest I have ever heard the student section at Scott Field, as I turned around to watch the whiskey shower and high five people (all the while ringing my bell), I couldn't help but smile in the company of my best friends.
The drinks continued to rain down upon us, and I really didn't care. MSU was now 7-2 on one of the most exciting plays all year, and 54 thousand people were partying at the same time. As the bells clanged along with the band (I assume they were playing, I couldn't hear anything ), and as I sang hoarsely along with everyone, arm in arm, proclaiming "loyal friends we'll always be", I thought about the people I was with, not where I was. We then proceeded down the tunnel and one of my favorite sounds hit my ears: cowbells clanging under the stadium after a bulldog win. It was magical, and all because of the wonderful people that call Mississippi State University "home".
The people I love, in the place I love. It doesn't get any better than that. Hail State.
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