I tore my planter fascia playing hoop outdoors last Saturday (There goes my skiing for a few weeks). Old, slow, out of shape and playing on a hoop nailed to a dairy barn on Vashon Island that was built by my friend’s grandfather in 1913. That is a bad combo. I was sitting in the doctor’s office yesterday when I notice this tall athletic looking woman decked out in Beaver wear from head to toe. I strike up a conversation with her. Turns out she played hoop at one of the two local high schools and went on to play basketball at Oregon State about 30 years ago. She then was an assistant coach at Oregon State and at other schools. She was home for Christmas. She said she knew Riley very well. She did a pretty good job of defending Mike until I started giving her facts about his career. Finally she resigned herself to the following defense of Riley; he’s a really nice guy (How many times have we heard that?), he won a lot of games for a school like Oregon State and he should have never gone to Nebraska. He was in over his head for a job with as much pressure as the head coaching job at Nebraska (She said she had been at UNL many times for sports during her coaching career).
Gee. I wish someone would have thought about that about 4 years ago.