Thursday, May 7, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Recruiting in Vermont: Not Just for the National Guard
Recruiting in Vermont: Not Just for the National Guard
Most people, when they hear "recruiting", will think of joining the army -- unless you're the coach of a smallish sports team in East Von Queek, then you understand the difficult process of soliciting good athletes to join your relatively unheard of team.
In the little town of Lyndon, Vermont, nothing much happens. There's one infamous hang out spot affectionately referred to as The Packer; there's an overflow of ridiculously large old buildings; and there's Lyndon State College, home of the Hornets. Oh, and yes, I mean the sports team, not the tiny and angry entities that invade the classroms in ACT all summer. So what is it that can bring some wicked good athletes to the this bit of the boondocks?
Money, you might say. Nope -- LSC basketball is Division Three, which means scholarships just don't happen. Fame? Don't make me laugh, I tend to snort. The beauty and serenity of an evening in the hills of New England, where you'll get mosquito bites in places where no mosquitos have dared to go before?
Not likely.
So what brings athletes to quaint little Lyndon State College?Recruiting.
Basically, the coaches of the teams go out and shamelessly beg for anyone with talent to camp out with us rednecks for four(ish) years. Well, maybe not shamelessly beg ... and we're not all rednecks. Regardless, the coaches launch themselves into cyberspace (after dialing up) or simply make phone calls (thankfully not on a party line) in an attempt to find suitable players for their teams. They showcase the beauty of the area and how size does matter when it comes to how small one's class is; meanwhile downplaying the lack of entertainment, frigid winters, and abundance of biting insects.
Regardless of the odds, coaches do manage to bring in players for their up-and-coming teams. They find time in the conflicting schedules of college and high school sports to go and check out their prospective new talent. They e-mail, they call, they harass and harangue, but in the end, some athletes of relatively swell talent find themselves in our neck of the woods. Some of them even like it here.
Props to those coaches' mad recruiting skills.
For more on redNEK sports, visit this site:
http://www.NEKsports.com
(Yes, we even have a website. How quaint!)
Most people, when they hear "recruiting", will think of joining the army -- unless you're the coach of a smallish sports team in East Von Queek, then you understand the difficult process of soliciting good athletes to join your relatively unheard of team.
In the little town of Lyndon, Vermont, nothing much happens. There's one infamous hang out spot affectionately referred to as The Packer; there's an overflow of ridiculously large old buildings; and there's Lyndon State College, home of the Hornets. Oh, and yes, I mean the sports team, not the tiny and angry entities that invade the classroms in ACT all summer. So what is it that can bring some wicked good athletes to the this bit of the boondocks?
Money, you might say. Nope -- LSC basketball is Division Three, which means scholarships just don't happen. Fame? Don't make me laugh, I tend to snort. The beauty and serenity of an evening in the hills of New England, where you'll get mosquito bites in places where no mosquitos have dared to go before?
Not likely.
So what brings athletes to quaint little Lyndon State College?Recruiting.
Basically, the coaches of the teams go out and shamelessly beg for anyone with talent to camp out with us rednecks for four(ish) years. Well, maybe not shamelessly beg ... and we're not all rednecks. Regardless, the coaches launch themselves into cyberspace (after dialing up) or simply make phone calls (thankfully not on a party line) in an attempt to find suitable players for their teams. They showcase the beauty of the area and how size does matter when it comes to how small one's class is; meanwhile downplaying the lack of entertainment, frigid winters, and abundance of biting insects.
Regardless of the odds, coaches do manage to bring in players for their up-and-coming teams. They find time in the conflicting schedules of college and high school sports to go and check out their prospective new talent. They e-mail, they call, they harass and harangue, but in the end, some athletes of relatively swell talent find themselves in our neck of the woods. Some of them even like it here.
Props to those coaches' mad recruiting skills.
For more on redNEK sports, visit this site:
http://www.NEKsports.com
(Yes, we even have a website. How quaint!)
Plane Crashes at LaGuardia, 5 Fatalities (fake story for class, don't panic!)
Plane Crashes at LaGuardia, 5 Fatalities
The day began unassumingly enough for two Lyndon State College professors, yet the day ended in tragedy. Professors John Dumont and George Johnson were preparing to return home from a conference in New York when their flight out of LaGuardia went horribly wrong.
"One minute we were climbing up into the air, and the next..." Johnson pauses in a moment of recollection, "Basically, it all came crashing down."
Johnson and his co-worker, professor John Dumont, were seated beside each other on the ill-fated flight. Dumont remarks that, "It seemed like everything was going off without a hitch. But apparently things aren't always as they seem."
Neither man was injured, though both were considerably shaken. Five of the forty passengers were dead at the scene, and many more were taken off to the local hospital, but fortunately the two professors made it back to Vermont on the next available flight.
"I think next time we'll drive," Johnson remarks with a wan smile. "I'm sure Professor Dumont won't mind covering half the cost of gas."
The day began unassumingly enough for two Lyndon State College professors, yet the day ended in tragedy. Professors John Dumont and George Johnson were preparing to return home from a conference in New York when their flight out of LaGuardia went horribly wrong.
"One minute we were climbing up into the air, and the next..." Johnson pauses in a moment of recollection, "Basically, it all came crashing down."
Johnson and his co-worker, professor John Dumont, were seated beside each other on the ill-fated flight. Dumont remarks that, "It seemed like everything was going off without a hitch. But apparently things aren't always as they seem."
Neither man was injured, though both were considerably shaken. Five of the forty passengers were dead at the scene, and many more were taken off to the local hospital, but fortunately the two professors made it back to Vermont on the next available flight.
"I think next time we'll drive," Johnson remarks with a wan smile. "I'm sure Professor Dumont won't mind covering half the cost of gas."
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Have you got the time to find out who I really am?
What have I got that makes you want to love me?
Is it my body?
Someone I might be?
Or something inside me?
You better tell me,
tell me,
It's really up to you.
~Alice Cooper
Why do I choose to be random? Lack of anything better to do. I chose the template because nothing is ever gonna be the new black. I named my blog what I did because that's really all I've got going for me. I'm virtually useless, but hell, if you want someone to go to a rock concert with you or jump off the roof into your pool (but not naked, I do have standards now), then gimme a call. 328-7448. No, not really. And seriously, my URL? Yeah, one of the most pressing questions that may ever come up in your life, especially on a long car trip, is "Who farted in the backseat?"
You know you did it.
Unless you're driving through Mass. Then it's no one's fault.
Watch Jeff Foxworthy's courtesy sniff bit.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHg5SJYRHA0
copy and paste, it's awesome.
NOT! haha ... rickroll'd ... w00t....
This blog will probably be full of nonsensical crap and me ranting about stupidity. I'm sorry.
Maybe when I'm not running purely on caffeine I'll post something relatively intelligent. The best I can do right now is say Welcome to the Jungle ***insert Axl Rose screaming here***
Is it my body?
Someone I might be?
Or something inside me?
You better tell me,
tell me,
It's really up to you.
~Alice Cooper
Why do I choose to be random? Lack of anything better to do. I chose the template because nothing is ever gonna be the new black. I named my blog what I did because that's really all I've got going for me. I'm virtually useless, but hell, if you want someone to go to a rock concert with you or jump off the roof into your pool (but not naked, I do have standards now), then gimme a call. 328-7448. No, not really. And seriously, my URL? Yeah, one of the most pressing questions that may ever come up in your life, especially on a long car trip, is "Who farted in the backseat?"
You know you did it.
Unless you're driving through Mass. Then it's no one's fault.
Watch Jeff Foxworthy's courtesy sniff bit.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHg5SJYRHA0
copy and paste, it's awesome.
NOT! haha ... rickroll'd ... w00t....
This blog will probably be full of nonsensical crap and me ranting about stupidity. I'm sorry.
Maybe when I'm not running purely on caffeine I'll post something relatively intelligent. The best I can do right now is say Welcome to the Jungle ***insert Axl Rose screaming here***
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