The Portal drains the Mid-Majors of its star talent, while the Power Five unloads its malcontents.
Desi Sills
By the end of the game, Ervin Johnson awoke from a horrible dream knowing in his heart that “Magic” was now the intellectual property of Norchad Omier.
The latest Jenga-tower tumble is simply another one to apply to the stack. We’ve sifted through this rubble now for more than a decade. We no longer even choke on the dust.
The turnovers arrived in a multitude of varieties – ill-advised bounce passes into the crowded paint, cross-court bounce passes that ended up in the seats, dribbles off the foot, offensive fouls, balls that inexplicably rattled out of what were once steady hands.
Pack the uni and clean underwear in a duffle, and move on.
As usual, the urgency for which to win these games remain high for the Red Wolves, who find themselves entwined inside a Sun Belt race that has yet to select a favorite.
Omier played with the burning intensity of a lightning bolt, hip-checking and elbowing Warhawks into oblivion while obtaining the spherical prize he knew to be his and his alone. It was a task that rivaled any of Hercules’ mythical twelve, and it still wasn’t enough.
In Boone, Omier was bottled up and frustrated. In Conway, Norchad was the reckoning.
As the Mountaineers cheerful announcers reminded us often, the Red Wolves had plenty of opportunities to get back into the game.
But it’s not the scoring that has put the city of Jonesboro on his back. It’s his on-court tenacity and his off-court leadership. He wants this team to succeed. He’s willing it to succeed. He’s representing Northeast Arkansas with a pride I’d like to see more duplicate.
Howlraiser 