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I guess you’ll want a little something about the fine contest Sunday between the hooping fives from Missouri and Kansas, played in Lawrence Sunday. A little something is what it will be, indeed.

You see, we baptized Lia on Sunday. At 1:00. Since my wife is Catholic, that means my girls are Catholic. And Catholics don’t do quick Baptisms. Throw in another kid at the same dunking / anointing session and we were walking out of the church at ten after two. Even being right around the corner from home, by the time we piled into the van, ran around the block, got unpacked, and ran into the house to start getting the desserts prepped for our guests, the game had been going on for awhile. When I flipped the TV on, KU was already up 12. If you watched, you know it didn’t get any closer from there. I took Lia, who was fantastic at the church but ready to crash, sat on the couch, and watched the remainder of the first half with the volume down so she could sleep.

Great performance, fantastic environment, terrific to pound the rivals and counter our earlier loss to them, etc. etc. etc.

I’m going to follow The Wolf’s advise to not go (shaking) each other’s (hands) just yet, but I will say this: after getting wins over Oklahoma and Missouri this week, I like how things stand with one week to play in the Big 12. You might hear more about this next week.


Winston Wolf: I solve problems

Here’s what I am ready to write about, though. I realized something strange over the past couple weeks. For the first time ever, I think I harbor more sports hate for Kansas State than for Missouri. For a variety of reasons, Mizzou has always been my big, red letter, #1 rival.

But things have changed.

I’ll preface by saying I haven’t exactly watched a ton of K-State or Mizzou games in recent years. But when I have, I’ve generally been impressed by how hard Mizzou plays. And, compared to the old Norm Stewart teams that always knew how to place elbows properly without getting caught, they seem to play hard but clean. Throw in Mike Anderson, who seems thoroughly decent and likable and it’s hard to hate them, despite the name on the front of their gold lame´ jerseys.

K-State under Frank Martin, however, seem to play with not a chip on their shoulders, but a whole load of bricks. Yapping throughout the games. Cheap shots. Constant complaining. Martin seems like he could go Woody Hayes on someone at any moment.

Weird. Wacky, wild, and weird even.

So game days are still big. But I just don’t get wound up before Mizzou games the way I used to. On the other hand, I want to crush K-State. I want to humiliate them. I want to eat their children. Whoa!

Now football is another story…


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