LSU-Arkansas: A Purple Hazy Recap

I'm driving up I-540 to Fayetteville. I just tried to spit a bitter hocker out the window and the cold rushing wind blew it back on my jacket. My body aches with residual flu. The February Arkansas air has a bite and the world has that hazy blue look it gets before we have a winter storm.

Skeleton trees cover the rolling Ozark hills and the occasional black smoke plume rises from prehistoric shacks that dot the valleys and mesas. Rusting Ford Escorts and partially disassembled Pacers ornament the distant yards. Cars seem to have abnormally bright and streaky paint jobs as they zoom past me.

Tom Waits is on my stereo growling about a "Downtown Train". The SUV in front of me is flying a Razorback flag and has a license plate that says "TRIPPIN". It is a college basketball game day. Maybe I shouldn't have had that second bottle of Nyquil.

LSU is in town and it's a must-win game, but aren't they all when you seem to be a team that has spent the last three years on the proverbial "bubble"?

They fired the annoying John Brady who always looked like he had a chaw in his cheek and a painful prostate infection. We will miss him as a villain and we will miss his smokin' hot wife as an object of juvenile leers and the occasional drool.

His replacement is long time assistant Butch Pierre who has, along with a FANTASTIC Louisiana name, a truly weird hairline that calls to mind the actor Bill Duke (who hunted the "Predator" along with Arnold Schwarzenegger). Butch frightens me just a tad and in my current state he looks a bit like he belongs in a comic book with a black mask and maybe a lightning bolt across his chest worrying about a girlfriend named Tanya Tiger.

As I make my way from the parking lot to the stadium I pause to watch thick bottomed women play lacrosse in the cold. Geez I miss college.

Bud Walton Arena is about three quarters full for the game. People are shedding coats and their heads seem to bob just a little. The players are finishing warm-ups and their uniforms and the basketballs seem to be leaving tracers behind them, like shadow images that my brain can't process at the proper speed. Jump shots leave a visible arc so I can study their path.

The Hogs are going to win this one going away. I can feel it.

Michael Sanchez is launching dubious threes and grinning broadly. Vincent Hunter laughs and hugs him as he WHOOPS a cheer for Steven Hill's senior video. Sonny Weems and Ervin are tossing up half court shots. The whole team seems strangely happy and loose. Yup, this one's gonna be a blowout.

Coach Pelphrey's comb-forward is looking just a bit strained tonight. There are whispers in my area that our fearless leader will soon have a major decision to make regarding his "look".

The game is slow and lacks rhythm for the first six minutes. Randolph and Johnson are fantastic looking players for LSU but they are both painfully thin and weak. The Tiger's guards are competent but just don't bring anything to the table. Amazingly John Brady never understood the importance of solid guards in the college game.

Gary Ervin got the start tonight for the first time since very early in the year. He is hustling and playing tough defense. Steven Hill is altering almost every shot in the paint.

The air in the arena seems dark and miasmic to my senses. Diseased respiratory droplets hang in the ether as the sluggish crowd coughs and sputters with the team. A dark haired goddess in a belted sweater/skirt with black stockings and a red scarf makes her way down the bleachers and belatedly finds her seat not far from me. She crosses her legs and I can't take my eyes off her shiny black ankle boots. My medication soaked brain wants to snuggle with what I imagine are her brightly painted toes. She digs in her GIANT purse for her phone and immediately starts texting.

There is a deadness to the crowd tonight and it seems at first that this will carry over to the players. The score is tied at 14 with six-plus minutes gone when the Hogs explode. Beverly hits a layup after a fantastic steal, Welsh hits, Weems continues his stellar play, Vincent Hunter buries a couple from deep, Welsh hits another, and even Gary Ervin gets in on the act with a three.

There are a couple of things going on here. The Hogs are just hot and the LSU defense is atrocious. These shots are uncontested. Arkansas's defense is good but LSU's ball handling is god awful and their shot selection isn't much better. After four minutes and a 21-0 run the Hogs lead 35-14 and the ballgame is over.

The rest of the half (and game) are passed mostly with watching the blond girls in paint and sports bras try to discover an elusive rhythm, seeing if anyone will dare talk to a grumpy looking Ken Hatfield, trying to figure out what happened to my favorite stat girl's complexion, and wondering why the quite good pom pom squad decided to do their halftime dance in those high waisted dresses that Lauren from "The Hills" wears.

As time leaks away and the crowd staggers home after an 87-61 Hog win, the Razorback mascot is suddenly at my side and I think I might SCREAM and soil myself in fear and confusion. He is talking to the people next to me in a very human voice and I am more than a little disconcerted.

I decide to scurry away before more weird stuff starts to happen. Besides, I need some more Nyquil.