Print off the attached flyer when you come into East Lansing’s Buffalo Wild Wings on Sunday, November 6th to help support Williamston Girls Basketball. Eat, drink, play trivia, and watch football! A portion of your bill will go directly to our program! Thank you in advance for your continued support. These kids are awesome!
Fundraiser Flyer (IT’S RIGHT HERE)
A new post is in draft format, actually talking about my amazing team, so be on the lookout!
Thanks again and GO HORNETS!!!
I neglected this website at least 14 times longer than Casey Anthony neglected her missing child, but I promise, I still love it and I’m going to prove it! So what in the hell is going on? Well, I’m not going to try and fill the gap since I played 100 holes of golf, instead I’m going to settle with this probably being a half assed post, but hopefully one that gets me back into the swing of things. For the record, I no longer work in the bowels of the SDC folding towels and putting football spandies into cubbies.
Speaking of the trial that gave my generation its own “OJ” moment to gawk at (and trust me I did), I got much more out of that than a whirlwind of emotion from the aquittal. Growing up and even now, I admired athletes. How I judge them now goes way beyond how they actually perform, but instead I focus on interviews, humility, and all that corny stuff. In my MBA program I was exposed to endless case studies that all dealt with male CEO’s and the Barney Big Balls of the world, but this trial finally gave me an “I am woman hear me roar,” type of business woman to admire. Linda Drane-Burdick rocks for reasons beyond her cool glasses and power suits. The lady can captivate an audience, she has to bounce back from defeat, she has gained the utmost respect from her peers, and speaks loudly and eloquently of her beliefs. I don’t have any desire to be a lawyer nor am I here to express my feelings about capital punishment (partly because I still don’t know what they are)…but LDB is exactly what I think many females in the business world, or those in other volitile industries, need to see. I’ve drafted a letter to her endless times and a Post-It Note with Orlando’s Court address stares me in the face everyday at work, and once I figure out exactly what to say I’m sending it. Wahoo!
Oooo, good transition…Post It Notes. I shouldn’t even get started. I took Entreprenuership my first year at MTU (God bless that place) and we could get extra credit if we went and listened to Arthur Fry speak. It was my first semester at Tech, I was forced into study tables anyway, and extra credit to listen to a guy talk about his million dollar accident didn’t sound too bad. Looking back, had I known that his accident would organize my career life…I would have shaken his hand, hugged him, and told him thank you as well. I have PINs everywhere, and I mean everywhere. On my hutch, on my monitors, on my stacks of paper…and the weird, but I think cool part – is I’ve been stacking them everytime I finish something. I’ve taken some shit for being a “hoarder” but when I can bust through a 30 or 60 page document of legislation or policy, I take great joy in stacking that PIN. Yesterday I was challenged for my “weird” act, so at lunch I counted them…it was 195 stacked PINs. I don’t plan on counting again. And while you are probably reading this thinking WTF, if you are STILL reading this, chances are your birthday, address, reminder to call, or something like that has been on a PIN. Oh yeah, this fact might be worth the price (your time) of barrelling through this post. If you “hate” PINs because they curl at the bottom, it’s because you take them off the stack wrong. Tear left to right, rather than up and down…and they flat like Shaun T’s abs.
I finally gave into the social media world (again) and joined the land of Twitter…which is actually a very big challenge for me. I love run on sentences, comma splices, and let’s be real – you know damn well I’m just long winded. Summing whatever it is up in 140 characters, oooof, brain drain really, but I like it. Tomorrow is #ff so hit up MariaKasza…pretty original I know, but some barbeque sauce stole my real name (Sweet Baby Ray).
Basketball has created a monster! I’m too early for meetings. I’ve gotten to the point where I get so anxious if I’m not in the room I just start doing laps, I take part in “water cooler talks,” pretend like I’m refilling my coffee cup, and then awkwardly wait by the copier to see when others shuffle past – and then I can go find my seat. No matter how many times I tell myself that it takes me literally 30 seconds to get from my office to any conference room I’d be going to, I still find myself packing up with 15 minutes to go. Packing up consists of 1. Windows+L 2. Grab favorite pen 3. Grab notebook.
Welp, that’s a wrap. I’m very excited because I didn’t think I’d get something worth posting and I already have a thought for my next post. So, 2 thumbs up. As always, hollerattahusky if you see one in the streets!
If you want scorecards – we have them, along with a 6 sheet Excel workbook filled with all sorts of stats. However, this post isn’t about the final score of the First Annual Husky Open. Rather it’s about the sand save pars, eagle putt that dropped, and “Husky” chants down the fairways - that kept us grinding through the 3 straight three putt bogeys, #18 tee shots, self detrimental talk, and UCLA ball cap throws. It’s about the 17 hour and 10 minute day that covered 34,866 yards (solely measured from tee box to green), which equals 19.81 miles, trekking along uneven grounds, with 20+ pound bags strapped to our backs. It’s about two mightily driven Huskies who set out at 6:39 a.m. the morning of July 25th with a goal of walking and completing 100 holes. And it’s about the last putts that dropped into #9′s cup at 11:49 p.m. that completed what at some points during the day, seemed crazy and maybe with the forces of nature and time against us, impossible, to complete by the stroke of midnight.
About a week prior to the Open I was out golfing with a few people, including This Guy. During casual conversation I said before the end of summer I wanted to try to play as many holes as I could in one day. And after a simple “I’ll do it too,” I had a partner. We settled on Monday, setup 4 tee times (only 1 of which was truly used), purchased glow-balls (thanks Coach!), and stocked our bags with a few more pounds of low cal electrolyte packed bevs. The night before we came up with this plan…via text…
* C.I. – What’s the game plan tomorrow…meet at 6:30! Is the gate open then? I’m kinda worried we’re gonna get locked in at night or get the sprinklers on us.
In case you’re wondering, the gate is open at 6:30, the sprinklers are on both very early and late, and the gates do indeed close…but we got out!
So the golfing part. Coach let the first shot of the day go at 6:39 a.m. A booming drive that landed in the fairway (I know this because I marked every fairway hit, greens in regulation, and putts), and eventually led to a first hole par. 2 hours and 41 minutes later (I also kept track of time), we completed our first 18 holes – which included my first eagle of the summer and left us with a measly 82 holes to go! Round 2 was another sprint, only chalking up 2 hours and 49 minutes, a few more hat throws (the last(s) of the day), and an embarrassing amount of 3 putts for myself. At only 12:14, we had 36 holes in the book, and were heading into the “weekend.”
Round 3 we ran into the problem we knew would eventually come. We were paired up with a couple from Lansing who were the least “ready” golfers one could ever imagine. There was a shared huge sigh of relief when they mentioned they were only playing 9 holes. Finally after 2 brutal hours (exactly), we politely shook hands, said it was great meeting/playing with them (which is probably considered a white lie), and made our way to #10. I forgot to mention C.I.’s sand save par on #8! It was hard to be excited (although we were) when we were moving slower that molasses in wintertime (J.W. shoutout!). Surprisingly, I too, managed a sand save par on #10, and C.I. got his 2nd birdie of the day a few holes later…..and then morale took a staggering blow.
As we rolled a tweet (C.I.) and a par (Me) on #13, and felt back on pace, the most stubborn and ill-ettiquttely group (4) of men teed off on 14. Over the next 5 holes we continued to wait as they teed off, re-teed, and drove their carts all over Super Mario style, our upbeat moods were slowly deteriorating. I put my bag down on 17′s box and sprawled out in the shade, and in true Husky form, C.I. came in with a huge pick up. An ice cold h20 and fully loaded Fruit Punch Gatorade, brought our spirits back up as we completed holes 53 and 54.
Our next scheduled tee time wasn’t until 6:50, so with a solid 90 minutes to work, we teed off on the back 9 again, and managed to complete 11 holes before Billy (I’m only playing 9) met us to play “Championship Sunday.” He was clutch and brought us Subway and more Powerade. As we ate on 1′s box I switched gears from how many holes of golf I could play to how many bites it would take to mow down a 6 inch sub. I didn’t record that (should have), but I think it was less than 7. Refueled, 65 down, and morale UP, we took off on Championship, C.I. even donning his Sunday Nike Red. As 10:00 p.m. hit we had completed 2 of our best rounds of the day, and with 17 to go, it was time to pick up the pace.
The next hour and 49 minutes were a blur. The glow balls were brought out and we started jogging fairways. Only with the aid of cell phones could we tell which club was being pulled out of the bag, and with two holes to go, dehydration setting in, and the clock ticking – we made the executive decision to skip 7, and make 8 and 9 the final 99th and 100th holes. With 25 minutes to spare we were running, and literally clunking, down one of the longest holes of the course. As we approached #9′s (#100′s) green, we crossed the poor man’s Swilcan Bridge, and got ready to drop the final putts of an epic day.
And as the last 2 shots did fall, a simple high five was exchanged, followed by, “let’s get the hell outta here.”
Needless to say, on the morning of July 25th I set out with a goal in mind, and as I finally collapsed into my bed that evening, I ended up with a day I’ll never forget, and one that we plan to replicate for years to come. It was a day of competing and a day of camaraderie. It is said that Huskies are bred for their speed, their strength, and their endurance. We did just that.
And that, is something to holler about.
All through life I’ve been bombarded with cliché sayings that I’ve dismissed time and time again. These sayings include, but aren’t limited to: you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. For so many years I’ve listened to these sayings come and go and yet I’ve seen it all happen and in turn known that they really are true. But today/tonight I realized the truest of them all.
For 6 years I’ve listened to senior speeches and in each senior speech I was told how fast college goes, how much I should enjoy my teammates, and how much I need to cherish all of my moments. When I left Northern I gained an entire new perspective and I really began to value everything that came into my life. And yet, no matter how much I tried to enjoy it, tried as hard as I could to document my memories and moments that are the best I so far have yet, it still flew by. This is coming from a girl who took notes on a bar crawl on the back of crossword puzzles to ensure the next day we’d know exactly where we went and what we ordered. The same girl who took pages of quotes that were said in Vegas and charted alcohol consumptions. The girl who started a blog with a name dedicated to being a Husky.
No matter how many times I tried to slow it all down, how hard I tried to document all the amazing memories, it still comes down to one battle that no matter what, I will never win. You can’t beat time, you can only hope to fill the time you have with the most amazing people and in turn memories, before certain times in your life run dry…at least for a little bit.
I always relate life to country songs, and tonight is really no different. “Got my ass kicked, but I got back up. Lost my way, found it again. Had one long buzz and a dozen new best friends.” For 3 years, Houghton, Michigan has become my home, one that I know I’ll always come back to. To those reading, you’ve most likely been part of my home and ultimately my family, and as I wrap up this there is no way to say “thank you” that can do justice. It’s truly been the time of my life, I’ve loved it beyond the point that words can explain, and I’ll see you again soon.
Well a few weeks ago I talked about the potential of becoming a “blogger” once basketball season had ended. Perhaps I should have started long ago since I feel that the most exciting days are somewhat behind, but then again maybe/hopefully not. Although I’m no longer under the scrutiny of the NCAA, administrators, or the general public eye, I’ll still try to keep this relatively respectable for my own and readers’ (if there are any) sakes.
Before this goes too far I need to thank my dear friend, g. He not only told me where I should host my blog, but also provided me with the picture that is my banner, which also happens to be one of my favorite pictures in the whole entire world. You should check out his website a http://sgowtham.net to observe his wonderful photography (which include countless more pictures of me sitting on the bench) and his far superior blogging skills.
So yes, my collegiate career has officially came to an end, one in which probably has the potential of going down in history as the most statistically horrendous three year stint at any institution. The back to back redshirts are impressive, not to mention the 11-0 home record when reading the sportsmanship statement.
Why “hollerattahusky?” I think because it is the thing that I’ll be remembered for here at Tech from my teammates. The loud and obnoxious white teamer who found herself sitting on the scorer’s table following ankle surgery and then interviewed team members before practice started. Needless to say, it was a hit, and one that I truly enjoyed. I certainly won’t be remembered for my team worst shooting percentage…actually maybe I will be since it seemed mildly impossible to shoot so poorly for someone who shot so often and made her fair number of shots when playing against Tech (either for NMU or the White Team who mirrored every other team on the schedule). Meh, either way, I think the name will stick. How long will the blog stick around? Maybe only til tomorrow if I don’t think I have anything worthy enough to post about.
This whole end of the career thing was more than a lifestyle change. For six years I always pondered the “normal” college student’s weekend rituals, what I’d do with extra free time, and how I’d adapt to life where my “Earth’s” circumference was no longer 28.5″ around. Well I’ve done my fair share of finding out. I’ve woken up with a few pounding headaches, endless amounts of laughter, a mid-semester trip to Vegas (that of course entailed the 2 previous occurences), and a whole lot of wondering what is next. My what’s next is not exactly anything to be insanely proud of, but in due time I do intend to add some type of employment, that is of course of greater monetary compensation than my laundry shifts and glorious days as a Husky basketball camp counselor. Here are a few of my ideas, list form, of course. Quick divergence…since the class of 2010 has arrived back in Houghton, from Las Vegas, we have spent our days emailing each other about the happenings in our lives and the shambles our lives have become. Today I wanted to see how many pages those lists actually were, the answer is 35, and that is why I love lists.
I suppose that’s a good starting point or a good point to say that I should stop before I make any others. If I had to guess what future posts may entail I’m guessing it will be about the Upper Peninsula and how I’m going to try and make my “All U.P. Summer” the best it can be. I’m sure I’ll include wonderful memories I’ve had in this place we call “God’s Country,” such as The Yooper Challenge, Little Lake softball tournaments, the NIT’s, the Chalkboard Challenge (recently completed), and h20 falls trips. Not to mention the sweetness that is about to begin starting the second I hand in those two assignments. I suppose I could keep a running tally of how many jobs I apply for, how many I get turned away from, and the one that I actually/hopefully land. However somedays I’ll probably find myself all nostalgic and offer up insight from a White Teamer’s perspective, some events that occured with the Class of 2010, life in general within Husky Nation, and I guess whatever else I think is worthy of being hollered at.
