Pack the uni and clean underwear in a duffle, and move on.
Mike Balado
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.
Yes, Balado has rough edges. He is not shy about dropping F-bombs – a sin some people in Jonesboro find as egregious as kicking puppies and skipping church. His early teams were a mess (he’ll tell you that some guys no longer rostered just didn’t buy into the program). Many people believe that five years was too slow to turn the program around – as if the program hasn’t underperformed for thirty years. He’s a Floridian who speaks with a Bronx accent (at least to my Southern ears), and his temper flareups are unseemly to a righteous fanbase who see Hugh Freeze has the Christian epitome of leadership.
Are we ready to believe yet?
Are the Red Wolves contenders? Well, to be contenders, you have to defeat contenders.
He was everywhere, drilling threes, pounding layups, robbing boards – where was this guy when Han Gruber was assembling his Nakatomi Tower Heist?
Howl Raiser 