Gearing Up for a Grudge Match

Game-Day Update Below

ESPN is billing tomorrow night's second-round matchup between Maryland and Louisville in the women's NCAA tournament as a grudge match. That sounds about right to the rabid Terp fans of Roxie's World, who have never gotten over the beat down Maryland suffered at the hands of Coach Jeff Walz's Cardinals in the 2009 Elite Eight. It isn't just the score -- 77-60 -- that still stings, painful as it was to watch the glorious collegiate careers of Marissa Coleman and Kristi Toliver end on such a sour note. What rankles even more is what Walz did when the final whistle blew and Coleman and Toliver sat stunned and disconsolate on the Maryland bench. Walz is a former Maryland assistant coach who was with the team when Brenda Frese guided a group of upstart freshmen, including Coleman and Toliver, to a national championship in 2006. He relied on his intimate knowledge of Maryland's players and its system to formulate a game plan that exploited its weaknesses. His team executed the plan brilliantly -- and when the dismantling was over Walz made a beeline for Coleman and Toliver and tried to comfort the women he had just defeated. Here's what we wrote about the gesture the day after the game:

At that moment when cameras were focused on the devastated stars, Walz, engineer of their disappointment, went over to each of them, got down on his knees, and put his arms around them. Moose thought there was something jarring about it at the time. It seemed disingenuous of him to take on the role of comforting them for a loss he and his team would be boasting about in a matter of seconds. Word of friction between Walz and Frese makes the gesture even harder to take. If Walz sincerely wished to express sympathy to Coleman and Toliver or admiration for their brilliant careers, he should have done so out of the limelight and only after Coleman and Toliver had had a chance to compose themselves. To insert himself into that moment was to take on a role that rightly belonged to his old boss and, apparently, his new foe. He beat her team, handily. He didn't need to try to usurp her role.  

We don't know anything about the rumors of bad blood between Frese and her former assistant (pictured at left in a slightly altered photo from 2006 [via]), which surfaced in the wake of the 2009 contest, but we have a hunch we're not the only ones hungering for a little revenge tomorrow night. When the brackets for this year's tournament were announced and it was clear the Terps and Cardinals could meet again, Marissa Coleman immediately tweeted (yes, Moose follows her -- don't judge) of the matchup: "TERPS get some payback for @KristiToliver and I, would ya?!" (Love you, Shoulders, always will, but that should read, "for @KristiToliver and me.") During first-round action Saturday at the Comcastle, some fans might have greeted Walz with warm fuzzies when he took the floor for his team's game against Michigan State, but there was no love lost for Louisville's head coach up where the Moms sit in section 114. When the short-fused Walz loudly berated a player for throwing up a bad shot (when the Cards already had a comfortable lead), a fan/friend mockingly repeated the coach's rebuke, adding in his own booming voice, "We could hear you all the way up here, Walz!" After that, we spent the rest of the not very entertaining game dissecting Walz's issues -- "He's got an Auriemma complex," one Freudian averred -- and concocting elaborate plots to guarantee a Terp victory tomorrow night, most of which involved sending spoiled seafood to the Louisville team's hotel.

Yes, darlings, that's why they call it Madness, this seasonal affective disorder college basketball fans experience every year come tournament time. We love the game, adore our team, and live for the drama of the major upset or the thrilling comeback. Or, you know, the sweet revenge.

We'll be in the stands tomorrow night, maybe with a special sign imploring the Terps to win it for Marissa and K. T. or to remember 2009. On the other hand, why should we burden these splendid young women with the bitter residue of someone else's past? Their talents and accomplishments are impressive in and of themselves, and they deserve their own shot at glory. It would be hard to fit our sentiments onto even the most carefully painted sign, but perhaps we'll show up at the Comcastle tomorrow with the hope in our hearts that these dazzling young Terps will win on Monday so that we will have the joy of knowing we will get to see them play together again -- at least once more before this special season, like all seasons, ends, in triumph or its opposite.

Sleep well, women. You've got your work cut out for you, and we can't wait to cheer you on in your efforts. Peace out.

(Photo Credit: Toni L. Sandys, Washington Post. Maryland forward Alyssa Thomas shoots over Navy's Alix Membreno in a first-round game, 3/17/12.)

Update: WaPo's Gene Wang has a story this morning on the Frese/Walz "subplot" in the looming rematch between Maryland and Louisville. According to Wang, Walz's departure from College Park in 2008 was "acrimonious," though Frese refused to comment on the matter, saying it was not important to the upcoming game. Reading between the lines, one might infer that Walz took a little too much credit for the national championship, including orchestrating the play that sent the title game into overtime. In this YouTube video of Marissa Coleman and other former players talking about that game, Coleman makes it clear that Toliver's sublime shot over Duke center Alison Bales was not the play coaches had drawn up. After the 2009 loss to Louisville, Coleman also publicly took issue with Walz's suggestion that Maryland's body language suggested the team was taking Louisville lightly as it focused on getting back to the Final Four. "Well, Coach Walz was wrong," Coleman commented when told what Walz had said.

Like we said, dude's got an Auriemma complex. We don't care what motivates the Terps to go out and get the W tonight. We just want them to win, but if it turns out the victory is fueled by a collective gynocentric urge to smack down an arrogant, bullying mansplainer, well, that's all right by us. We are women, hear us roar. Go, Terps!

Today in My Typist Is STILL Too Busy to Blog

Now With Tiny Violins!

Srsly. More than a week of radio silence around here, and my typist still insists she doesn't have time for a proper post. Dammit, Moose, we gotta give 'em something! I don't want to become known as the Grover Norquist of East Blogistan, starving the beast of my vast readership because you're having a hard time keeping up with yourself these days. Fine, Moose grumbled as she struggled to stuff all the balls she'd been juggling into her book bag before heading off to campus. Here, Rox. Throw 'em a bone. Let 'em watch the adorable vid I shot of the Norwood School orchestra earnestly sawing away on "The Star-Spangled Banner" at Sunday's game against Duke. It's cute, even if I didn't get the whole song, very nearly as cute as a damn cat video, and it proves that our national anthem is very nearly as hard to play as it is to sing. Throw in a Whitney Houston tie-in, and we're good to go.

Desperate times, desperate measures, people. Sometimes you go with the post you got, not with the post you want. These kids really are cute, and the Lady Terps snatched victory away from the Blue Devils with brilliant play in the final minute. The hearty "woohoooooo" you hear as the little fiddlers finish off the anthem is of course Moose, beside herself with excitement as tipoff approaches. She was so psyched for the big game that she even indulged in a bit of face-painting -- and learned by halftime that the reason face-painting is for kids and not for grownups is that grownups get stressed out when their team falls behind by 12 points early in the game, rub their faces, and turn a pretty red "M" into a big schmear that starts at the cheek and runs all the way up the forehead. Oops.

In any case, here, for your mid-week pleasure, are the little fiddlers of the Norwood School, forcing us to wonder, yet again, why we have marching bands but not marching orchestras. Don't say we never gave you nothin', people. Peace out.

 

The Quiet Season

Or, Things We Did While Not Attending MLA 2012

Dr. Crazy went and so did Undine, but for the first time since 1995 neither of the English profs of Roxie's World attended the annual convention of the Modern Language Association, which concluded yesterday in the highly caffeinated city of Seattle. We're huge fans of the organization and its annual shindig but opted out this year because we weren't giving papers or shopping book manuscripts or serving on search committees and therefore couldn't quite justify the time and expense of a cross-country trip. So, what'd we do instead?

We burrowed in. Hunkered down. Laid low.

We decluttered. Depilated. Decompressed.

We ran a little. Walked a little. Finally tried Zumba. (Verdict? Not sure yet. Further research will be necessary, but Moose is not convinced her cardiovascular health requires quite that much hip action. She also recalls, however, that she felt similarly skeptical after her first aerobics class, once upon a time in the 80s.)

We toiled happily away on the kind of work that is hard to do when classes are in session and the calendar is a multicolored vortex of obligations. Goose had a 2-day team meeting for one of her electronic projects. Moose shifted into cruise-director mode to hammer out the details for the upcoming celebrations of her queer studies program's tenth anniversary. (I know: ten years of queering the turtle! Can you stand it? Click here for some of the scoop on what's in store. Details coming soon.)

Oh, and we watched us some basketball, because our fifth-ranked Lady Terps needed us to make sure they got through the weekend with their perfect record in tact. Fine, sophomore forward Alyssa Thomas helped, too, with her 24 points in Friday's heart-stopping comeback against Georgia Tech and her buzzer-beater that put Sunday's road game against Carolina into overtime, but we know that our passionate devotion helped carry the mighty women of Maryland to 16-0. 16-0!!!

After the haircut (the aforementioned depilation), Moose was hungry and so took herself to lunch. She had tapas. And a glass of white wine. It was Friday. She had gone for a run. Tapas is the perfect way for Lifestyle Adjusters to dine well without having to declare PointsPlus bankruptcy. She had a shredded cod salad, because a friend whose judgment she trusts says that if cod is on the menu you should always order it. She was not disappointed.

Then she went to a museum, because it was there. And there is a Gertrude Stein show she's been meaning to see for months but hadn't yet and now it's about to leave town, so she finally popped in. It's not the bestest exhibit ever, despite the forthright documenting of Stein's sexuality and her relationship with Alice B. Toklas and some marvelous images of the two women and their dog Basket, but it's well worth seeing. Moose was pleased to be able to snatch a pic of Jo Davidson's massive terra cotta sculpture of Stein, which she likes to think of as the precursor to the bronze Thinking Woman she brought home with her from New Mexico a couple of years ago.

What else did we do while not schmoozing, boozing, and cruising at the MLA? We watched Homeland, all 12 white-knuckle, Claire Danes-ilicious episodes. The show strains credulity in precisely the ways our pal Jill Dolan blogged about in November (before the season had ended) and its finale is vexing in all the ways David Haglund and June Thomas discuss in Slate. Nonetheless, the writing (if not the plotting) and the performances make Homeland riveting to watch. It's a fraught and fascinating piece of post-9/11 cultural work that deftly probes the psychic costs of living with and in the massive state (in)security apparatus that took hold in the United States in the wake of the fall 2001 attacks. Danes plays Carrie Mathison, a CIA officer haunted by the feeling that she missed something on 9/11 that might have thwarted the attacks. Damian Lewis plays Nicholas Brody, a Marine sergeant who was held captive by Al-Qaeda for eight years and has just been released and returned home. Carrie believes he was turned while in captivity and is now part of a plot to attack the U. S. Much of the thrill of this taut, smart thriller is in watching the dynamics of the Mathison-Brody relationship and trying to figure out who is manipulating whom and to what end. How much of what happens between them is personal and how much is a matter of each working to advance the goals of their competing missions? We don't want to give anything away. Go watch the show if you can. Then come back here prepared to discuss Homeland's complex racial/sexual/religious politics and the burning question of whether Claire's electroshock therapy will erase the crucial piece of evidence she recognized in that last moment before the big buzz jolted her brain. Hurry! We are dying to have this conversation with you!

One more thing we did while not attending the MLA? Moose took a lot of pictures with her new iPhone 4S, which is, as the hype suggests, equipped with a camera so good you might be tempted to stuff all your old point-and-shoots in the back of some closet. Both photos above were taken with her fun new toy, as was the one below, which we offer by way of returning to the theme of quietness and winter rest with which this post began. Here's hoping you've found such time at the beginning of this brave new year. Peace out, my pretties, and, again, a very happy new year to you and yours.

Something for Everybody

It's Friday, darlings. The embodied me has been dead for a little more than two weeks, and countless thousands are dead or missing in Haiti. With all due respect to the grim reaper and the souls of the departed, can we agree that some healthy distraction is in order? Good. I thought so. We've racked our very small brains and trolled the interwebs, trying to come up with tasty treats to appeal to a number of the different demographic groups who hang out here. Even if you don't fit precisely into one of these groups, we hope you'll find something that will burn a few of the seconds that stand between you and happy hour this afternoon. And don't worry -- We'll save you a prime seat at Ishmael's, the seedy yet cozy bar around the corner from the global headquarters of RW Enterprises, LLC. Barkeep Peter Coffin's got half-price specials on rum drinks today, because there's a warming trend happening in our neck of the woods. Come by for a tropical beverage and a towering platter of nachos. Order your own extra queso sauce, though, because you know Moose won't be sharing hers. Love you, darlings. Mean it. Play on.

For the Big and Tall Girls: Put down your hankies and pick up your pom-poms, wimmin, we got us some basketball blogging to do! We apologize for the deplorably late start on this season's worshiping at the Shrine of the Holy Round Ball, but it's taken us some time to get to know Coach B's band of mighty women, a team so new and young that the players have training wheels on their athletic shoes. How young is the team the moms have taken to calling the Baby Terps or the Littlest Turtles or the Terratots? Well, in last night's win over Boston College, the Terps had three freshmen in the starting lineup. This team is so young that sophomore Lynetta Kizer is considered, like, a tribal elder, unless you count guard Lori Bjork, a grad student who joined the Terps last season after three years at Illinois but couldn't play until this year because of NCAA transfer rules. (And you should definitely count Bjork, by the way, who has been rocking the house from 3-point land in the last couple of games and seems to be a calming presence on the floor.) The team seems to be finding its groove after some early losses away from home, including a Tobacco Road meltdown against NC State last week. We're hoping that last night's win, coupled with a squeaker in Charlottesville on Monday, will earn the Baby Terps a spot in next week's top 25. The moms haven't picked a favorite yet among the Terratots, but they are keeping a close eye on 6'3" forward Diandra Tchatchouang (pictured above left; photo by Jonathan Newton, Wa Po) who scored a game-high 18 points against BC. At first they were amusing themselves by trying to come up with nicknames more pronounceable than Tchatchouang. They liked both "Ka-ching" and "Szechuan," but Moose felt so guilty about seeming to mock someone with an unusual name that she started cheering in Tchatchouang's native French. Yep, Diandra, that's us right there at mid-court -- the crazy old broads with the hand-painted signs shouting "Allons y!" every time you touch the ball. Bonne chance, petite tortue!

For the Queer Law Geeks Ambivalent About Marriage But Unable to Stop Paying Attention to the Issue: Big doings this week with the start of the federal case on the constitutionality of California's Prop 8. Perry v. Schwarzenegger may ultimately give the Supreme Court of the United States a chance to weigh in on whether marriage inequality is compatible with those four little words conveniently carved into the frieze the justices see on their way into work each morning. The law prof bloggers have been on this case like white on rice, so click over to see what Katherine Franke has to say about Judge Vaughn Walker's apparent willingness to entertain the idea that the state should get out of the marriage business altogether. Or consult Nan Hunter's list of recommendations of where to go for the best coverage of the trial. Tenured Radical, who is back on native soil and has returned to blogging with a vengeance this week, has a good analysis of the testimony by sex and marriage historians Nancy Cott and George Chauncey.

For English Profs Who Still Can't Believe There Will Never Be Another MLA in December: The backlash is organizing. It's virtual, it's viral, it's as full of irony and wit as a blog written by a really funny dead dog! Inside Higher Ed is already reporting on it. You can follow it on Twitter! Join a Facebook group! Steal cleverly Photoshopped images (as we did, at left) from the blog that's been set up for "MLA 2010, the best conference that never was nor will be." (With the shift in schedule, there won't be a convention in 2010. The next meeting will be in January, 2011 in LA.) We're impressed with this effort and encouraged to see other humanists becoming humorists. (Hey, maybe that's what post-humanism is! Haven't you always wondered?) We think they need some help, though. A virtual mock conference is going to call for a massive effort of faux-organization. (Thought: Here's something Bush could do with his post-presidency!) Roxie's World would like to offer our services to MLA 2010. We'll task our pack of loyal, exceptionally clever readers to help come up with session titles for the conference that shall never be. So far, they've come up with "Teachers Travesty: The Best of Professorial Invective from 2010." That's a good start, but let's keep the ball rolling. Try these on for size:

• When Species Tweet: Dogs, Humans, and the Tools of Social Petworking
• Excellence Without Money: Or, Lies My Provost Told Me
• Reading Gawain in the Age of Obama: Srsly
• "You're dealing with children. They need to be terrified. It's like mother's milk to them": Lessons in Pedagogy from Sue Sylvester
• The Age of Obama or The Obama Era: Which Makes Literary Critics Sound Hipper and More Politically Astute?
• To Hell With PowerPoint: Singing, Dancing, and Success in the Literature Classroom

Hey, it worked for these guys, in a slightly different context:



Your turn, kids. Special session titles due by noon on Monday. Get cracking! Best proposal wins one of those cute mankinis they're flacking over at MLA 2010. Peace out.

Today in Gender

Item One

Wa Po has a pretty good story today by Dana Hedgpeth on the tireless efforts of Michigan Governor Jennifer Granholm (D) to bring jobs to the state with the nation's highest unemployment rate (15.2%). We totally heart this sharp-as-a-tack power chick and will probably quit our day jobs and go to law school if she ever ends up on the Supreme Court just so we can vie to be one of her love slaves/law clerks. We are trying to make up our minds, though, about the photo and caption Wa Po used to illustrate the story. Study them carefully, kids. There will be a quiz:

The photo is great, of course, and highly flattering to the gov, whom both supporters and detractors call "Jenny the cheerleader," "because of her relentless optimism," according to the story. (Do you really think she got that moniker just because of her optimism, kids? Nah, us neither.) (Granholm prefers to call herself a "zealot.") And Granholm obviously spoke the words used to caption the photo, offering up a pithy compliment to her state's "great bones" and its ability to "build stuff."

Here's what has us scratching our noggins: Is the caption good or bad? Is it a net positive in that it shows a woman leader with the confidence to draw unselfconsciously from two highly gendered image repositories -- i.e., the "female" world of beauty and bone structure and the "male" world of building and other hard "stuff"? Or does it subtly undermine Granholm's credibility as leader of a state reeling from the collapse of the auto industry? Will "good bones" make Michigan competitive in a new economy of high-skilled, environmentally friendly jobs? Or does the beauty-pageant language suggest that the girl gov, who tears up in her office when recalling her failed efforts to convince appliance maker Electrolux to stay in the state, isn't up to the job of bringing jobs to Michigan? Read the story, and tell us what you think.

Item Two

The Chronicle of Higher Ed has a brief piece today on a study published by the Wellesley Centers for Women on the disparity in the price of tickets for women's basketball games in comparison to men's games, even on campuses, like the University of Connecticut, where the women's team has a rock 'em, sock 'em record of success (6 NCAA championships, according to the bitter QTU fans of Roxie's World). The study, "Ticket Office Sexism: The Gender Gap in Pricing for NCAA Division I Basketball" by Laura Pappano and Allison J. Tracy (available for purchase on the Wellesley Centers for Women Web site), argues, as its title suggests, that the pricing disparity is a form of discrimination, a sign that women are still de-valued in the traditionally male world of sport. The study argues that the claim that lower ticket prices for women's games are necessary to boost attendance doesn't hold up, because the disparity persists even at schools like Connecticut that have a strong fan base for their women's team.

As you can imagine, this is a story that captured the attention of the feminazi b'ball freaks of Roxie's World, but, surprisingly, our knees didn't reflexively kick out in anger over clear evidence of institutional sexism. As season ticket holders for both men's and women's basketball at QTU, we can tell you there is a significant -- indeed, astronomical -- disparity in pricing right here in our own backyard, although the women's team has a much greater record of accomplishment over the past several seasons as well as some mighty impressive attendance records (which my typist cannot lay her fingers on at the moment, alas). Still, the women don't consistently pack the Comcast Center in the way that the men's team does, even when the non-Lady Terps manage to lose, as they did last season, to the likes of Morgan State. Moreover, sensitive as we are to any sign of gender inequity, we have to admit that we enjoy seeing the Comcast Center filled with screaming kids cheering on the women as they school their opponents in lightning-fast offense. The more affordable pricing structure makes the women's game accessible to those younger fans, who giddily celebrate their birthdays up in suites occupied by corporate fat-cats during the men's games. We don't want to deny revenue to the women's team, but we don't want to deny them crucial opportunities to build their fan base either. And, frankly, we just love the vibe the Comcast Center has during the women's games. Even when the dreaded Dukies are in the house, it's a fun, friendly, happy place to be, and that is by no means always the case when the non-Ladies take the court. Jack up ticket prices, and you run the risk of turning the women's game into what the men's game has become: a grim, money-grubbing diva dance in which every player has his eye on the best deal he can get for himself in the NBA rather than on what's best for the team. It ain't pretty, and a lot of the time it's damn near excruciating to watch.

Wait a minute, kids -- Did Roxie's World just say that sometimes gender inequity is good? WTF? Jump in here and tell us how wrong we are, folks. I think perhaps the high altitude has gone to my typist's head! Peace out and remember: the Lady Terps kick off their 2009-10 season at home against Bowie State at 7 PM on Nov. 4. Moose will be (barely) back from her undisclosed location by then. Where will you be, sports fans? It's the most affordable game in town -- and one of the most exciting!

Renewal

Because it's never too early to start thinking about basketball.

Because in your heart of hearts you long to see your hand-painted signs on the jumbotron at Comcast or in promotional e-mails or on the team's Web site.

Because you want to be there when Moose decides who will succeed Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman as the object of her passionate but completely respectful devotion.

Renew or purchase your Maryland women's basketball tickets now. Or Cannibal Terps will eat your kids for breakfast.

What are you waiting for, turtles? I said RENEW!

End of an Era

(Updated below.)

Maryland basketball fans will remember Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman and Kristi Toliver this way:

Not this way.

We love you. We are proud of you. We will never forget the skill and determination you brought to the game and the glory you brought to your school.

For now, that is all that matters and all we can say. Peace out.

A.M. Update: Here come the obits, the tributes, and the faint whiffs of off-court intrigue.

• Camille Powell recaps the game here. Coach B acknowledges both the heartbreak and the tremendous accomplishment of Coleman and Toliver:

  "It's always tough to have that moment, for seniors, for their careers to end. Especially two seniors like these two," said Coach Brenda Frese, who embraced each player as she left the court. "What they've meant to our team, what they've meant to our program -- you hate for it to end like this. I want to remember all the good times, all the wins. Remember the position they put us in."

• Rick Maese, having doomed Coleman to failure by imagining her in Icarian terms of flight after Saturday's astonishing performance, lets Shoulders and Coleman speak for themselves as they grapple with the raw emotions of a huge defeat. Get out your hankies, and read it here.
• Mike Wise puts himself inside Toliver's head as she tries to find her shot and rhythm in the game, which, because of Louisville's very effective defense, was difficult to do. Read it here. As good as Wise's emotional reconstruction is, the eyebrow-raiser in his column is the suggestion that there is bad blood between Coach B and her former assistant, Louisville head coach, Jeff Walz. The two no longer speak, according to Wise, which makes a moment we noted at the conclusion of the game even more noteworthy. As time expired, the teams went through the traditional line of handshakes and acknowledgment, but Toliver and Coleman stayed on the Maryland bench, too disconsolate to participate in the ritual. At that moment when cameras were focused on the devastated stars, Walz, engineer of their disappointment, went over to each of them, got down on his knees, and put his arms around them. Moose thought there was something jarring about it at the time. It seemed disingenuous of him to take on the role of comforting them for a loss he and his team would be boasting about in a matter of seconds. Word of friction between Walz and Frese makes the gesture even harder to take. If Walz sincerely wished to express sympathy to Coleman and Toliver or admiration for their brilliant careers, he should have done so out of the limelight and only after Coleman and Toliver had had a chance to compose themselves. To insert himself into that moment was to take on a role that rightly belonged to his old boss and, apparently, his new foe. He beat her team, handily. He didn't need to try to usurp her role.

Or so it seems to us, on a sunny morning when March Madness has suddenly turned to March Sadness.

Terp Women Eat Kids -- And Birds

Grilled Cardinal Edition

Let's prepare for this evening's Rumble in Raleigh (Maryland's Elite Eight game against the Cardinals of Louisville) with a few glances back (over our Shoulders, as it were) at Saturday's stunning come-from-behind win over Vanderbilt.

First, in case you missed it, here are court-side interviews with Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman and Coach Brenda Frese from ESPN's broadcast of the game. We love watching Coach B standing in the background with a proud smile on her face while Coleman talks about how much she wanted the win:



Next, we've got several new candidates for the Sportswriters' Epic Simile of the Year Contest (trademark RW Enterprises, LLC), as reporters strained their brains (and, one imagines, Google) in their efforts to describe Shoulders' breathtaking 42 point/15 rebound performance. Just like Shakespeare, only with a distinct odor of gym socks in the air, the sportswriters sit themselves down to ponder the eternal question, "Shall I compare thee to a . . . ?" and the results of their pondering are:

Mike Wise in Wa Po sticks mostly to the world of sports as he endeavors to capture the scale of Coleman's accomplishment, though he tucks in a gratuitous rock 'n roll reference (to Bruce Springsteen, whose E Street Band reunion tour in 2000 played in the same arena, Raleigh's RBC Center, where the game was played). Wise compares Coleman's performance to Michael Jordan scoring 55 points against the Knicks in Madison Square Garden or to a 15-year-old Jason Kidd lighting up the house in Northern California prep championships and concludes that "Coleman's sublime game ranks alongside both of them among the greatest individual performances I've ever covered." Oh, in addition to epic similes, Wise offers the poignant news that Coleman's own mother, Joni, missed her daughter's whirlwind feat because she got so nervous when the Terps fell behind that she couldn't bear to watch (which also happened during the Terps' 2006 run for the championship:

"I was too worried. I had to leave the arena and plug my ears when they started losing," Joni said. "I didn't see the comeback, I admit it. But I'll say this: I know how bad she wants it. And I know what she can do."

"She did the same thing in Albuquerque," Marissa said, shrugging and grinning. "My mom . . . she gets so nervous."

Meanwhile, over on ESPN, Mechelle Voepel reaches into the domain of Cold War politics for a comparison that makes Coleman both a superhero and a freedom fighter. Reading it, one imagines Tom Cruise improbably cast in the role of Marissa Coleman in the film Voepel would make of this year's women's tournament:

It seemed like nothing short of the old Berlin Wall could have stopped [Coleman] -- and we would have given her pretty good odds of scaling that, too, on this day.

Nice try, Mechelle, but the winner of Moose's battered old Roget's Thesaurus, at least for this round, is Rick Maese of the Baltimore Sun, who reaches for the sky in a desperate bid to try to convey the scale of what Shoulders did in the last several minutes of the game:

[W]hat Coleman did Saturday afternoon is hard to quantify with numbers and difficult to capture with cameras. She could've started flapping her arms at midcourt and floated to the rafters and it would have been easier to rationalize than the closing minutes of Maryland's emotional 78-74 come-from-behind win over Vanderbilt.

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's SHOULDERS! Maese is so taken with his metaphor that he returns to it for the ending of his column:

After what she did Saturday, nothing she does should surprise. If she does start flapping her arms, it might be wise to look up. Coleman's capable of anything.

Dear Rick,

Love you. Mean it. You're one of our favorite sportswriters, and we give props to the Sun for its coverage of Maryland women's b-ball. Wa Po's got nothing on you in this department, despite the excellent work now being done by Camille Powell. We have great sympathy for American sportswriters, who seem doomed by the culture to interpret everything that happens through the "thrill of victory, agony of defeat" formula established decades ago by ABC's Wide World of Sports. And metaphors of flight are, of course, an apt and handy way to capture the transcendent qualities of exceptional athletic feats. In such moments, the athlete is ourselves perfected, ourselves above ourselves, soaring Icarus reaching for the sun, while we sit on the couch eating potato chips. We get it, Rick, but we still think you went a little over the top in those weird images of Marissa flapping her arms. The image is more comic than epic to us, and it captures nothing of the grace of Coleman's powerful athleticism. We think you should keep your eye a little closer to the ground as you watch the game tonight. Remember, the only birds in the house will be the Cardinals -- and we're hoping Shoulders and her pals will be feasting on them.

Yours sincerely,
Roxie

All On Her Shoulders

Shoulders: 42
Rest of Maryland Team: 36
_______________
78 = Just barely enough to move on to an Elite Eight meeting with Louisville (32-4)

We hear you, Riss. We were screaming, too. And what were we screaming? One word:

DEFENSE!!!!!!

Shoulders' ferocious determination was inspiring, even awe-inducing. Read all about it here, kids. We are still too traumatized to type, but the Cannibal Terps live to feast another day. Praise dog! Praise Shoulders! Pass the ketchup -- We've got Cardinals to eat!

(Photo Credit: Ellen Ozier, Reuters)

Sweet Sixteen

Cannibal Terps Pregame Edition

A little eye candy to psyche you up for this afternoon's Rumble in Raleigh:


(Top: Maryland's Kristi Tolliver. Bottom: Lynetta Kizer and Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman. Photo Credits: Toni L. Sandys, Washington Post)

And for your reading pleasure, check out Camille Powell's love letter to Kristi Tolliver from today's Wa Po. It was on the front page of the paper, leaving one with the unmistakable impression that Maryland has a great basketball team and that women's basketball is -- are you ready for this? -- newsworthy!

Finally, because we just aren't ready to drop the Cannibal Terps meme we launched the other day, we offer a little inspirational music from -- you guessed it -- the Fine Young Cannibals. It's a peppy tune with an important message for a bunch of Mighty Women on a mission to win a second national championship: Don't Look Back -- Everything that matters is in your hands right here and now. Stay focused, stay mean, and by all means --

EAT KIDS!

Terp Women Eat Kids -- And Utes

(Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman drives past Utah's Morgan Warburton during Maryland's convincing 2nd-round win at Comcast, 3/24/09. Photo Credit: AP)

Updated below.

Yes, yes, the Terps whupped the out-womaned Utes of Utah in the second round of the NCAA tournament tonight. Of course Shoulders pulled down a career-high 18 rebounds as a lovely farewell gift to the 10,000 adoring fans gathered in the Comcast Center for one more thrilling night with the dazzling prodigies of 2006, now all grown up and reaching for one more shot at collegiate glory. Moose wasn't there, proving that she wasn't lying last semester when she told a class that she couldn't justify canceling a class for an appearance by then-candidate Barack Obama when she wouldn't cancel class for a visit by the Pope or even for her beloved Lady Terps. Rumor has it her "Fear the Brenda" sign was held aloft by a former Melvillian who is known more as a baseball fan than a basketball fan but did a fine job nonetheless. (Camille Powell's excellent Wa Po report on the game is here.)

So, yes, the Terps move on for a Sweet Sixteen reprise of their matchup last year against Vanderbilt (26-8) Saturday in Raleigh. Still, the truly big news coming out of College Park today is, um, that the Terp Women eat kids.

Here's the report, from the Office of Dubious Role Models and Bizarre Sports Rituals, by way of Dan Steinberg's D.C. Sports Blog at Wa Po. Steinberg is doing a cutely sexist (as opposed to an ugly sexist) little piece on the differences between men's and women's sport teams as a way of compensating for the fact that he hasn't written much about women's college basketball this season, despite the fact that one of the best teams in the country is right in his neighborhood. (Note to dying newspaper industry: You are dying, in part, from self-inflicted wounds.) Anyway, after a couple of predictable jokes about nail polish and Lord and Taylor bags in the locker room, Steinberg lets his readers know that the Mighty Women of Maryland are by no means "soft" by telling a story about the "ruthless slogan" they use in the locker room:

"We say Eat Kids!" Anjale Barrett told me matter-of-factly.

Bet you never heard a John Wooden adage about that one.

So here's what happened. Back in the fall they had weekly rehearsals for their Midnight Madness dance routine. To keep the intensity up during these rehearsals, sophomore forward Emery Wallace began shouting out motivational things. A Mike Tyson quote jumped out in her mind.

"What'd he say?" she asked me. "Something about eating kids."

And thus, a motto was born.

"She's not stable," star forward Marissa Coleman pointed out about Wallace.

Regardless, that slogan became a tradition during the dance rehearsals. Then it moved inside the locker room. The players started writing it on the white board before games, underneath the three keys provided by the coaching staff. They began putting their fists together and shouting it before leaving the room. They return to the message at halftime, with Wallace tailoring her exact advice based on the first-half performance.

"She'll be like, 'We're halfway through the kids' body now, keep going,' " Yemi Oyefuwa explained. "It's not like we played bad, you already had the head, you already had the hair."

"I've heard her say, 'Get to the feet,' " Marah Strickland noted.

Children of the media age that they are, some of the Terps are concerned that readers understand that the "ruthless slogan" is not to be taken literally:

"We try to stay away from THAT definition; the, you know, real definition," Strickland said. "Eat their kids is more a statement of domination. It's a metaphor."

"We're not actually eating kids," Demauria Liles agreed. "We're just dominating, we're stomping them to the ground."

"We love the kids," Barrett interjected, trying to make sure that no one believes the Maryland program to be anti-child. "it's just something that gets us motivated. We're not like Hannibal Lecter or anything like that."

Freshman Oyefuwa, who hails from London, apparently missed the memo about metaphor:

"Every month I choose a child," she told me. "Sometimes it's one from back home, sometimes it's someone from this country. You try to pick the juicy ones, the ones with nice hair, delicious ones, pretty eyes, because you know, the eyes are the best."

Meanwhile, Terrapin Coach (and mother of two) Brenda Frese is baffled by the origin and meaning of the grisly motivational motto. She comments to Steinberg:

I just know what they write (on the board before games), I don't know what it means. They won't give me an answer. I've asked. Have they given you an answer? Kids. What they come up with nowadays.

No word on whether Frese's twin tykes, Markus and Tyler, are allowed anywhere near the Terps' locker room when the team is going through its pregame calls to cannibalism.

The English profs of Roxie's World are officially mum on the subject, refusing to kill the Terps' tournament buzz by going all academic-y and pointing out the problematic history of powerful women being imaged as terrifying eaters of babies, men, and other living things. Reached in her office moments after her grad class and the Terps game had ended, a weary Moose commented,

Screw it. If they need to engage in a fantasy of cannibalism to get psyched up to grind their next opponent into the dirt, I say more power to 'em. Let 'em eat kids.

You heard it here first, sports fans. Peace out. And we mean that, literally.

A.M. Update: Accolades roll in for Shoulders, KT, and the Cannibal Terps. Bet you anything Mike Wise's Wa Po column will make you cry. Graham Hays has a nice piece up on ESPN. And Wa Po seems to have figured out that photos of strong, sweaty women just might save the newspaper industry. Check out the awesome photo gallery of the Terps' quest for a national championship. Oh, and if you're still savoring last night's Stunning Upset of a Team That Didn't Deserve a #1 Seed in the First Place, go read Mechelle Voepel's analysis of the Duke-Michigan State game. Truth be told, we're surprised that Maryland is the only ACC team left in the draw at this point, but we are constitutionally unable to feel sorry for Duke, even if Shoulders' BFF Abby Waner is crying into her Wheaties this morning. Abby, baby, you shoulda been a Terp!

Terp Women Rule YOU

From today's press avail at Comcast, regarding Maryland's second-round game against Utah:

Reporter: "Kristi and Marissa, this is your last home game tomorrow night. How are you going to feel knowing that this will be the last game you will play at Maryland?"

Coleman: "It is exciting that my last home game will be an NCAA Tournament game so it's going to be a great environment. The fans that we had come out last night were great and I'm sure they will all be out tomorrow, so knowing that makes the game that much more exciting."

Toliver: "It will be a great environment, it is sad that it will actually be the last game that we play here in Comcast, but hopefully we have the same fan base that we have had our entire career and they will come out and support our team tomorrow against Utah."


PURCHASE TICKETS HERE. NOW. I SAID NOW.

Because Shoulders and KT are counting on you and deserve your support.

Because Moose has to teach tomorrow night and will have to miss the game!

Because the first 100 QTU students to show up will get free pizza! (Tickets are free for students, too.)

Because non-service dogs are inexplicably barred from the Comcast Center, which means your favorite basketball-mad blogging dog will not be there either. (Don't worry. I will watch it on my Paw Pilot from the comfort of home.)

Because nothing brightens up a Tuesday evening in March like watching a bunch of strong, sweaty women play their hearts out to bring glory to their team and their school. Nothing.

Be there or be square, sports fans.

By Order of the Division of Sports and Leisure, RW Enterprises, LLC.

The Moms Take Manhattan

Apologies for the prolonged blog silence, children, but the moms were up in the Big Apple for the past few days, attending a conference, torturing the late-night front desk manager at the Algonquin (who ultimately threw up her hands and let Goose into the back office to print out Moose's conference paper because no one else could manage to do it), drinking many cocktails in the Algonquin's beautiful lobby bar, and lavishly launching the orgy of celebration that will culminate this Friday in Moose's entry into the Second Half Century of Her Life. (Yes, an elegant dinner party was had. Toasts were made. Poems read. Tears shed. Embarrassing photographs of long-forgotten prom dresses and unfortunate 1970s hairdos were displayed, on a large-screen TV. Thank-you notes will be written.)

Anyway, spring (not really a) break has left the moms feeling as flat as poor little Vermont was against Connecticut this afternoon. Here are a few random snaps from the weekend. We'll catch up with you soon, kids. Meantime, here's hoping your brackets are in tact and your flowers are in bloom. And that all dog's children are escorted into middle age by a pack of splendid, generous friends. Love you. Mean it.

Photo One: Café Un Deux Trois -- The moms make a point of dining here when they're in New York because Moose likes the paper tablecloths and the crayons. The steaks aren't bad either, but, really, the crayons and the charming, attentive servers are the highlights. Oh, and "ED" is Emily Dickinson, of course.

Photo Two: Driving up Sixth Ave. on what felt like the first day of spring, though it was technically the second.

Photo Three: Strolling on Times Square, same day.

Photo Four: Of course the Sign Ladies made it back to Comcast on Sunday afternoon in time to see the Lady Terps make their NCAA tournament debut with an easy win over Dartmouth. Kristi Toliver scored 27 points and spent a lot of the second half sitting on the bench with a beatific smile on her face. Way to go, women!

Yes, We Hear You Now

Now Hear Us

(Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman in the ACC tournament semifinal game against North Carolina. Maryland won, 95-84, 3/7/09. Photo Credit: Gerry Broome, AP)

Dear Shoulders and KT,

Nice game. Not to put any additional pressure on you or anything -- as if trying to win Maryland's first ACC championship in 20 years weren't pressure enough. in your senior seasons. when you're bucking for a second national championship to bookend the one you won your freshman years. when KT is clearly sick as a dog. -- but we just thought we'd let you know that tomorrow is a really special day in Roxie's World, and, you know, it'd be extra super swell if you guys could bring a little hardware back to College Park to make the day complete.

You may or may not know that tomorrow is International Women's Day. That alone makes March 8 a day of celebration in estrogen-fueled households such as ours. But March 8 is also the day we commemorate the unholy alliance of Moose and Goose, the basketball-crazy English profs who brought Roxie's World into being. That's right, kids. Tomorrow, March 8, 2009 is the moms' 25th anniversary! And all they want for the occasion -- aside from the love and good wishes of their dog and friends -- is for y'all to cut down the nets tomorrow afternoon in Greensboro. Got that? Yeah -- the moms, the sign ladies, the ones who re-baptized Marissa as "Shoulders" -- they've defied logic, heteropatriarchy, and the confident predictions of a few long-forgotten grad-school naysayers and managed to stay together for a quarter of a fricking century. Which could mean that Moose exaggerates slightly when she claims she was only 7 when they got together in 1984.

Show 'em you love 'em, women. Show 'em you know who rules. Go kick you some Blue Devil butt tomorrow. You deserve the win, and the moms want it more than anything on dog's pretty earth. We promise we won't pop any corks 'round here until the game is over. KT, get a good night's sleep and see if you can kick that bug out of your system. Shoulders, get a nice massage to make sure you've recovered from that nasty foul some desperate Tar Heel put on you in the second half.

Game time is 1 p.m. We'll be pulling for you, women, and the champagne will be on ice.

Yours sincerely,
Roxie

Terpalicious!

(Photo Credit: Christopher Blunck, DC Sports Box)

Kristi Toliver named ACC Women's Basketball Player of the Year!

Lynetta Kizer named ACC Freshman of the Year!

Terps win first regular season ACC title since 1989!

Terps tip off TODAY as #1 seed in ACC conference tournament in quest of first conference championship since 1989!

How does senior Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman feel about the team's chances?

We are playing so well right now; we have so much confidence in our game and each others' games right now. Honestly, I think the only reason we could lose is if we beat ourselves.

Will the Non-Lady Terps even make it to the Big Dance? Don't know. Can't say. Outlook: Hazy.

Will the unemployment rate reach 10% before the end of the NCAA tournament? Don't know. Can't say. Outlook: So grim we refuse to think about it lest it mess with our basketball buzz.

Gotta go, kids. Action is underway in Greensboro, and the Terps are down by two. Clearly, they need us to be concentrating.

Go, Terps!

Electrifying News

DC-Area Edition

(Image Credit: Tom Bloom, New York Times)

My typist pays the utility bills in our household (Goose pays for most of the food and liquor, so it comes out about even) and has been grousing all winter about the soaring cost of electricity. Our house is heated by gas, not electricity, so our winter electric bills used to be pretty negligible -- under $50 a month, according to Moose, though her paper records don't go back to that now remote happy time. The other day, however, she got a bill for $188, which put her into an official tizzy over the fundamental unfairness of life in the 21st century. "How are people managing these costs?" she said to Goose. "Why have they gone through the roof, when our patterns of consumption have not significantly changed? Why aren't people kicking and screaming, demanding answers from the utility companies?" "There, there now, dear," Goose replied. "The revolution will be starting any second now. Relax. Have a drink. Let's turn out the lights to save a penny or two."

As it turns out, Moose is not the only consumer feeling the shock of higher bills for electricity. The problem became news last night and this morning after Maryland's Public Service Commission summoned utility officials to testify yesterday at a hearing held in response to complaints about soaring rates and the record number of shut-off notices that are being sent out to customers who have fallen behind on their bills. Close to 3 million such notices were sent out in 2008 by the utilities companies serving Maryland and DC, according to data cited in the Wa Po story. 3 million!

To the shock of absolutely no one, the response from the utilities is to blame colder weather, longer billing cycles, and the inefficiency of customers' electric heating systems. Oh, and the maddening tendency of customers to hang around the house over the holidays and prefer not to freeze their widening rear ends off.

Boy, did that make Moose mad. As I have already mentioned, our house is heated with gas, not electricity. She pulled out bills going back to the winter of 2004-05, the last winter in which our electric bills averaged below $100 a month, and notes a jump in the charge per kilowatt hour from just over a nickel to the current rate of over 11 cents. "Colder weather," she snorted, after she had carefully spread all the bills out on the counter and gotten out a magnifying glass to study the costs per kilowatt hour. "Those evil bastards!"

Wa Po offered an explanation of the situation that struck Moose as more in line with the results of her counter-top data-mining exercise than the excuses offered by the utility companies:

Higher wholesale energy prices continue to push up electricity and natural gas costs, a result of deregulated markets in the District and Maryland. A typical monthly Pepco bill for District customers is $103.67 today, compared with $58.16 in 2004.

No, really? Could it be that what we have here is another example of what a raw deal deregulation is for consumers and what a super-fantastic deal it is for energy companies? Hard to imagine, isn't it, when that whole scheme was pitched to us as a way of lowering our costs, because, you know, that's what competition does? So, now we find ourselves in the midst of economic meltdown with households facing out-of-control costs for basic necessities as well as the cost of all the bells and whistles (cable TV, high-speed internet, and cell phones that put the whole world in our pockets) we decided were necessities somewhere along the way.

Eek, people, this ain't going to be pretty. Whatever shall we do?

Fortunately, the basketball tickets are already paid for, so tonight we'll go to Senior Night for the Mighty Women of Maryland over at Comcast Center. We'll cheer tonight -- and cry over the household bills tomorrow. Free drinks at Ishmael's, the seedy yet cozy bar around the corner from the global headquarters of RW Enterprises, LLC, for anyone with a ticket stub from the Terps game. Stop by! We'll swap tips on how to survive the coming catastrophe -- or just work on our brackets for March Madness. Wevs, kids -- It's Friday! Peace out.

Yes, We DID!

(Maryland seniors Kristi Toliver and Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman cheer on their teammates in the closing moments of Maryland's impressive victory over ACC rival Duke, 2/22/09. Photo Credit: Rob Carr.)

And the Oscar for best ensemble performance by a group of strong, inspired, sweaty young women goes to . . . the Lady Terps!

All you need to know about the deliriously happy ending to an orgy of basketball in College Park, MD this weekend is that Kristi Toliver and Marissa Coleman combined to score 58 points -- one point less than the entire Duke team -- en route to the Terps' 77-59 victory. After a sloppy, unfocused first half, the Maryland women stormed out in the second half and absolutely dominated the suddenly hapless Blue Devils. On the defensive end of the court, the Terps simply slammed the doors shut on the Devils, holding Coleman's BFF Abby Waner to just 5 points. Meanwhile, the offense scored seemingly at will, shooting a blistering 62.5% in the second half.

It was . . . a thing of beauty.

It was . . . less surprising than what happened yesterday at Comcast, but no less soul-satisfying.

It was . . . just what you want to see your favorite team on earth doing to its arch nemesis on the brink of tournament season.

AP recap is here. Rick Maese's column in the Balto Sun is here. Camille Powell's Wa Po story is here.

And the only half-decent shot Moose was able to get all day is here:

Bits and Pieces

Read these now, or my typist will run naked through the streets screaming, "Roxie, I can't live in a world facing financial collapse, environmental catastrophe, and a whole lot less change than a lot of people were hoping for with 73 tabs open in my browser on stories we may or may not ever get around to blogging!" Please, people, save Moose's dignity and the sanctity of our happy little neighborhood. Read these stories now:

Numbers Nerd Nate Silver (of FiveThirtyEight.com) has Oscar predictions for you. We can't be bothered to make predictions this year, on account of our favorite film of the year, I've Loved You So Long (which sounds so much sexier in the original French, Il y a longtemps que je t'aime), with the sublime Kristin Scott Thomas, wasn't nominated for anything. Also, it's just way too clear that Slumdog Millionaire is going to win for proving that good guys get both money and love, while Kate Winslet will finally get the gold for playing a Nazi redeemed by literature rather than a housewife undone by an unplanned pregnancy even though Revolutionary Road is a much better, if still far from perfect, film than The Reader. We prefer a little suspense in our awards shows, which is why we'll probably bail out on Oscar at 9 p.m. Eastern to see what surprises Bill and the sister-wives have in store for us tonight.

Meanwhile, out in the real world, Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton is earning raves for her first big trip abroad. Glenn Kessler's article in Friday's Wa Po on Clinton's "global listening tour" is the nicest thing we've read in the msm on a Clinton in . . . um, ever. The accompanying photo gallery is full of eye candy as flattering to Clinton as anything the devoted Clintonistas here in Roxie's World could have put together. Here's a sample, of Clinton with Special Olympics athletes at Haneda International Airport:

(Photo Credit: Getty Images)

In other Clinton-related news, you have probably heard that Socks the Cat died this week. We raise a somber paw to the furry former White House resident and direct your attention to this riveting obituary (yes!) by Michael Schaeffer over at the fascinating Obit, which we stumbled across thanks to Tenured Radical.

You know the moms were in the stands at Comcast yesterday when the much maligned Non-Lady Terps pulled off a stunning overtime upset (88-85) of third-ranked North Carolina. No, they didn't rush the floor with all the kids when the game was over, but they certainly understood the impulse and agreed wholeheartedly with elated Coach Gary Williams' description of the atmosphere in the arena. "That was a Cole Field House crowd," Williams said afterward, meaning the noise was thunderous and every heart in the house was pulling for the Terps to pull off the impossible feat of coming back from a 16-point second half deficit to take down the team led by national player of the year Tyler Hansbrough. Read about it here and here. (Photo Credit: Rob Carr, AP)

And of course the moms will be back at Comcast this evening for the women's much awaited rematch with rival Duke, who beat the Lady Terps by 3 points down at Cameron in January. Wa Po's Camille Powell has a heartwarming setup on the close friendship between Marissa "Shoulders" Coleman and Duke's Abby Waner, who are dreaming post-college dreams of co-anchoring a sports chat show. They're arguing over what to call the show. Personally, we like the sound of Shoulders and Shorty (Coleman is 6'1"; Waner a tiny 5'10"), but we have a hunch Waner won't want to give Coleman top billing. Bummer.

Way down deep in the bottom of the grab bag, we've got a couple of pieces on the long-neglected topic of queer aging, which we are supposed to be highlighting in preparation for somebody's fiftieth birthday at the end of March. (Hint: This Nearly Over the Hill Person recently announced that she wants an autographed picture of Shoulders to mark the occasion. This picture, but you probably already knew that, careful reader that you are.) Anyway, check out these stories on alternative senior communities if you're ready to break out of your denial about your own rapidly approaching golden years and start thinking about where and how you might want to live them. This article profiles a community in southwest Virgina that is vaguely spiritual and gender-mixed. And this one profiles a community of lesbians in Alabama who are still doing the whole matriarchal, separatist thing, dog bless them. Whatever floats your boat, womyn, but Moose got booted out of Lesbian Nation decades ago over sarcasm and other supposed vestiges of phallocentrism. She also reckons the snacks will be better if she retires someplace with a few pretty boys who can be counted on to keep their subscriptions to Gourmet current, so she and Goose will be looking for something mixed, urban, non-spiritual, self-cleaning, post-Depression affordable, and close to an ocean. Good luck with that, moms. Your goals, as always, are completely realistic.

Peace out, kids. I've got a game to get ready for. Go, Terps! Smash the Evil Empire of Duke to smithereens!