• Go Hog Go. Former Razorback and Benton native Cliff Lee will have the eyes of the baseball world upon him this evening, when he will be the starting pitcher for the American League in one of the sporting world’s most boring events: the Major League All-Star Game. The Cleveland Indian southpaw sports an impressive 12-2 record (which is even more impressive when you consider his team has a decidedly unimpressive 41-53 record) and a nifty 2.31 ERA. If history holds, Lee won’t pitch more than two innings, meaning he will likely already be on a plane home by the time the game hits the late innings (we hear All-Stars aren’t big on sticking around once they’ve been removed from the game). Here’s wishing Cliff the best of luck.

• Baby Needs a New Pair of Shoes. Courtesy of the inimitable Deadspin, we came across this Vegas Insider.com listing of teams’ odds of winning the 2009 BCS National Championship Game. The team with the best chance? Southern California, with odds of 3 to 1. Florida has the next-best chance, the site says, with odds of 5 to 1. And how ’bout the Hogs … well, how ’bout odds of 100 to 1? Perhaps it’s best to hold off on buying those plane tickets to Miami for now.

• Speaking of Vegas … The Razorbloggers have a nice piece on Sonny Weems’ impressive NBA Summer League debut in the desert.

• Prediction Time. The staff at ArkansasSports360.com has released a batch of predictions for the upcoming SEC football season. One of the highlights: “Ole Miss and Houston Nutt set the world afire for two months, then fold up like a cheap pup tent in November and end season with a one-point loss to Mississippi State.”

• “To An Athlete Dying Old.” That’s the title of a touching tribute to former Razorback footballer Wayne Jackson penned by the Arkansas Times’ Derek Jenkins and published on his “A Boy Named Sooie” blog. Jackson died earlier this month. To read the tribute, just click here.

By way of Chicago, Sonny Weems has landed in Denver. Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of time today to bore you with our commentary. Instead, here’s a brief round-up of media reports:

• Denver Post: Arkansas swingman Weems acquired for second rounder.

• Rocky Mountain News: Trade news ‘world class’ athletic talent for Nuggets.

• Northwest Arkansas Times: Weems drafted, traded.

• The Morning News: Weems drafted by Bulls, traded to Nuggets.

• Associated Press: Weems drafted No. 39 by Bulls, shipped to Denver.

• Hoopsworld.com: Nuggets make draft night deal.

Quick plug: According to our friends over at Razorbloggers.net, this week marks the end of the 2008 “fiscal year” for Razorback sports. Accordingly, they are marking the event in two ways: transferring their revenues to offshore entities to avoid paying their fair share of taxes (just kidding) and counting down the five best Razorback games of the past 12 months (not kidding). So, head on over and enjoy the good memories. They’re set to unveil the top of the list today. Gee, any guesses as to what that game will be?

Is there anything more exciting this time of year than all the mock NBA drafts that come out and are updated daily?  I say no (sarcastically of course).

My only real interest is where former Arkansas stud Sonny Weems ends up.  It appears from most sources that the 6'6" college slam dunk champion is going somewhere in the second round in the NBA draft on Thursday evening.

Here are a few links if you love this sort of thing:

NBAdraft.net has Sonny to the Indiana Pacers at No. 41.

CollegeHoops.net likes Sonny at No. 43 to the Sacramento Kings.

Chad Ford at ESPN.com is sending Sonny to the Miami Heat (via Orlando) at No. 52.

The NBA draft guru has Sonny headed to Utah to join former Hog Ronnie Brewer at No. 46.

The Sportsbank likes Weems to go at No. 57 to San Antonio.

And, finally, right here on the Hog Tale, is my mock draft:

With the number one pick in the 2008 NBA draft, the Chicago Bulls select...Sonny Weems, University of Arkansas

No. 2: Miami Heat - Derrick Rose, Memphis University

No. 3: Minnesota Timberwolves - Michael Beasley, Kansas State University

No. 4: Seattle Supersonics - Darrien Townes, University of Arkansas

No. 5: Memphis Grizzlies - Stephen Hill, University of Arkansas

Mike Miller of MSNBC.com’s Beyond the Arc college basketball blog is counting down the all-time great programs, and he’s placed the Razorbacks at No. 17 on the list.

A couple of things please us about this list.  First off, the fact that, after filling much of the past decade with mediocre-to-crappy seasons, the Hogs are even on it at all is nice; secondly, Miller has given us some bragging rights over Texas.

Here’s part of what he had to say about Razorback hoops:

“They don’t excel in any one area, but they don’t lag behind anyone either, which is the main reason the Hogs are in the top 20.  If not for the dropoff in the last 10 years, they’d be higher.

Still, when it comes to college basketball, Arkansas has two things going for it that few other schools have:

* A true shining moment from the Big Dance in Scotty Thurman’s rainbow 3-pointer over Duke’s Tony Lang that sealed the school’s lone NCAA title.

* A jaw-dropping Sports Illustrated cover of a ready-to-throw-down-a-rim-rattling-dunk Sidney Moncreif [sic] that helped introduce Arkansas hoops to the rest of the world.

The rest of the college basketball world should be so lucky.”

At first, we were choked with outrage that Miller misspelled Sir Sid’s last name.  But later we saw that he had the abundant good sense to link to and compliment Whit E. Knight’s magnum opus—the three-parter on the 1978 Final Four team that ran on this site earlier this spring—and we had had to sheepishly tell the angry, pitchfork-wielding mob that we had gathered to go home.

Anyhoo, check out the list when you get a chance.  No. 16 is slated to be revealed tomorrow.

* A Sad Chapter in a Sad Life

Few Razorbacks basketball players have seemed as troubled as Ron Huery.

The 6'6" Memphis native, who was so critical to Nolan Richardson’s rebuilding of the program in the late 1980s, wrote a rare feel-good chapter to his life’s story in 2005, when he returned to the U of A to complete his degree.

Well, prepare to lose that warm-and-fuzzy feeling: Huery has just been sentenced to five years in prison for attempting to break into his ex-girlfriend’s home.

As you can see from the link, Huery has compiled quite the rap sheet over the years—not to mention his various college-era misdeeds, such as pointing a gun at a dude’s head at a U of A frat party.

Here’s hoping that Ron is able to somehow, someway pull his life together at some point—but to be honest, this story doesn’t seem destined to have a happy ending.

* Being a Coach Means Never Having to Say You’re Sorry

Check out Peter King’s most recent “Monday Morning QB” column to read two Bobby Petrino-related items (thanks to The Slophouse for the link).

Spoiler alert: King is critical of Petrino.  Shocking, we know.

First off, King lampoons Petrino’s recent statements that the criticism surrounding his move from Atlanta to Fayetteville was tough on his family.  Fair enough.

Then, after reprinting a Lou Holtz quote saying that Nick Saban and Petrino will one day regret leaving the NFL, King writes, “The most incredible thing, to me, is that Petrino has never called Arthur Blank to say, ‘I’m sorry.”’

Boo hoo hoo.

Seriously, what is it with these guys and their obsession with Petrino?  We’d be the first to admit that Bobby shouldn’t receive any accolades from Miss Manners for the way he exited Atlanta.

But as we said back in December, this ain’t finishing school—it’s a rough-and-tumble business.

And who’s to say we’ve ever gotten the full story on what went down in Atlanta?  Blank appears to be a master schmoozer of the press—so if there is another side to the story, don’t expect to hear about it anytime soon.

I’ve been struggling with this feeling inside me that’s been aching since the 2008 NCAA tournament bracket was released on Sunday.

North Carolina is the No. 1 overall seed in the tournament. Sure, I agree with that.

So who is right below them, sitting at No. 8? 

The Hoosiers??

I have to be honest, although I am a skeptic of how good the Indiana Hoosiers really are, in my heart-of-hearts I know they are better than an eighth seed.

I think it’s a conspiracy. Maybe it’s some “indirect” punishment from the NCAA.

Let me just point out a few teams who received higher or the same seed as Indiana.  You can decide for yourself who you think played better overall throughout the season.

Miami (FL) got a 7 seed, UNLV an 8, West Virginia a 7, Miss. St an 8 and Oklahoma a 6!

Hmm…

Somebody give me a valid argument as to how any of these teams were better than IU throughout the season. Folks need to remember, the boys from Bloomington were ranked in the top 10 for a good portion of the season, and in the top 25 for the entire season. 

Does losing 2 or 3 games at the end of the season really drop you from a No. 4 or 5 seed to an 8?

Suppose they do win their first-round game; the Tar Heels of North Carolina will surely be waiting.  A possible second-round match-up against Indiana should make a lot of people down on the Tobacco Road real happy. (That’s my attempt at sarcasm for the people who didn’t catch it right away.)

To get to that intriguing match-up, IU will have to get by the Arkansas Razorbacks in the first round. 

Arkansas just finished a terrific run to the SEC conference tournament championship, only to fall to the Georgia Bulldogs, who put on an even more impressive run to win it.

The Razorbacks scored victories over top-ranked Vanderbilt and Tennessee in the first and second rounds of the SEC tournament before eventually losing to Georgia in the final. 

The Hoosiers lost to on improbable last-second buzzer-beater to Minnesota in the Big Ten tournament.

Leading 58-57 with just 1.5 seconds left, the Gophers were able to get the ball down-court and get the eventual game-winner off.

Indiana has lost 3 of its last 4, and are just 3-3 since the departure of Kelvin Sampson

Sampson resigned amid allegations of lying to the NCAA about his recruiting violations.

Interim Head Coach Dan Dakich will be in charge of taking IU against the talented Arkansas duo of Sonny Weems and Patrick Beverley.  The two players combined average nearly 26 points a game.

The Hoosiers are lead by the All-American freshman Eric Gordon.  In his first year, Gordon is averaging 21 point a game. 

Second-team All-American D.J. White is averaging 17.3 points a game to go along with his 10.4 rebounds.

In what should be a close game, Indiana should have the edge with the firepower of Gordon and White.  It will come down to Gordon in the clutch.  At times of pressure, Gordon can get frustrated easily if his deep-threes are not connecting.   If this happens, IU will need someone to step-up in the scoring column.

IU lacks a reliable third-scorer behind its two stars.  Sophomore point-guard Armon Basset has been shooting the ball very well in the latter weeks of the season.  If he can provide some extra scoring for the Hoosiers, the Razorbacks will be in for a long night.

Prediction:

Razorbacks in an upset: 72 - 65

Did I see a pig fly?

Couldn't be. I must have been dreaming.

Sunrise hit my face with unusual ferocity this morning.

Or maybe it was just my strange neighbor walking his really big dog with his high intensity flashlight.

Regardless, I woke a bit disoriented.

I shook the cobwebs from my head, brushed the crackers from my bed, and coughed up a ball of mucus and blood so large it needed a first name. I felt better then.

The coughing up of foul things is the first part of my routine, and a guy my age thrives on the comfort of the sameness of things so I set about the rest of it.

I tried to pee for half an hour but was unable. These things happen.

I woke my companion for the evening and gently shooed her out the door. This took awhile as she uses a walker and I had to find the cash to pay her.

I considered showering but dismissed the idea as bourgeois decadence.

Also I had no clean towels and the mold growing on my shower tile had recently developed what appeared to be teeth.

I called my parole officer, just to say hi.

I logged onto my computer and checked my email—answering any and all correspondence that might make me larger or more potent.

Tried to pee again. Became angry and frustrated.

Surfed the net for new and different varieties of porn. Found none but felt better for looking.

Reconsidered the shower.

Logged on to an Arkansas Basketball message board to see how my new leader was instructing the troops.

It was Kentucky day. I would follow the progress of my Hogs both on tv and through the eyes of my internet geek brethren.

My hopes were not high.

Big road wins have been in astonishingly short supply in hawgland for the past six years and even with Kentucky being a mediocre club this season, it seemed too much to ask to have a victory.

But then I saw it.

Wending its way through thread after thread on the message board—not just hope—but energy and enthusiasm.

Unrealistic expectations and ideas.

Aggressive predictions with no concrete basis in fact.

Random residual hatred for Houston Nutt.

Weird man-love for Bobby Petrino.

Discussions of the best way to make a "pot o' beans".

Now THESE were the Hog fans I grew up with. We BELIEVED in Coach Pel and the boys.

We are not victims here.

That is not what Eddie Sutton started and what Nolan Richardson took to storied heights.

We are thugs and warriors. People fear us.

We grunt and snort and spit and fight and emit a strange and unpleasant aroma.

Opponents bend to our will.

Enough politeness. Enough polish and courting "Big Names" while anticipating the inevitable turndown...we don't sit back meekly in the corners and get pressed until we give in.

We are the guys that trap and double team.

People prepare for us, not the other way around.

We are the Huns rolling across the Steppe on horseback. Surrender or pay the price.

We are what we are. A small state that has to do things our own way—harder, tougher and better than the other guy—NOT with more money.

There was talk on the board about reconciliation with Nolan, pressing the Wildcats into submission, the grace of Sonny Weems, and of course Hilary's plans to take away our automatic weapons and force us to abort our fetuses (feti?).

Razorback Nation was charging into Rupp Arena with plans to open a can of whoop on Billy Gilespie and the Caligula-like lifestyle he represents.

I was standing at my sink and peeing with a stream that would make an 18 year old proud.

Unfortunately, the game got underway and the board returned to its native state as of late.

We were screaming about the refs and our lack of shooters.

We moaned about an eight minute first-half lull where we went pointless.

We questioned our boys' hearts and effort.

Someone proposed a plan for secession from the Union that involved arming ourselves at the local Wal-Marts and demanding the right to at least cuddle with our age appropriate cousins and he was seconded by numerous "Huzzahs".

The second half brought temporary joy as the wonderful Weems took the Hogs out to a lead.

Plans for revolution were temporarily put on hold and posters started mentioning yet again that Steven Hill had NBA potential, Patrick Beverly might go pro early, and that Charles Thomas doesn't completely and utterly blow.

There was wind in our sails.

But reality soon set in.

Patrick Beverly was again undersized and too slow with his release.

Steven Hill again looked like a hirsute underachiever that might need to start interviewing for counter jobs at 7-11s.

Charles Thomas AGAIN traveled and had a shot thrown back in his face so viciously that the crowd stopped actually cheering for a moment because they kinda felt sorry for him.

My Hogs are nothing if not heartbreakers.

Kentucky closed out the game on the line and I began wandering around my apartment snacking on little pieces of granola bar that I could find on the couch, looking for a credit card that still had some room left under the limit, and wondering if MTV would show a replay tonight of the epic battle between Coral and Beth on "The Gauntlet III".

I was hoping that Pigs would FLY today.

But instead when I looked out the window all I saw was a drunk homeless guy throwing a hot dog at a crackhead homeless guy.

Does that count?

      "I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion."

        Jack Kerouac

  
     I don't have a nemesis right now.  I think to have a fully satisfying life one needs a good nemesis.  Now, I'm not talking about an enemy.  I probably have a few of those.  A nemesis is something altogether different and more important, more akin to a rival, something like a love/hate relationship.  A person who's life parallels your own but surpasses it in subtle yet infuriating ways.  It's even better if this person is very nice and in no way deserves the bitterness and enmity you feel towards them, the guilty pleasure you take in their failures.  This is such a common and necessary part of life that Germans have a word for it, "schadenfreude" which translates as "taking pleasure in the misfortune of others."  That's how it translates but it is an inadequate description.

    The reverse is also true with a nemesis, and probably more important.  I think it was Oscar Wilde who said "Every time a friend succeeds I die a little."  Or maybe it was Woody Allen.  Regardless, inner conflict and guilt make life worth living.

    I had a nemesis in high school, a couple actually. One was for sports and girls. another for school.  This made things kind of awkward because while each individual nemesis would surpass me in their specific category I could always rationalize that I could dominate them in the area outside their specialty.  It weakened their hold over me.

    College was different.  I lacked a nemesis because I was going through a distinctly non-competitive phase of my life.  This was due in large part to chemicals, reggae and the fact that I was in California.  It's hard to have the energy for a nemesis when it's 78 degrees every day and you're burning incense and listening to Bob Marley.

    But aahhhh med school!  That was nemesis heaven.  You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a nemesis there.  It was like they were breeding them.  We studied together while secretly hoping for the other guy to tank so we could bump up a notch in class rank.  Constantly tried to upgrade girlfriends. Pretended like we didn't have to work to maintain our grades.  Good Times!

    Things have been lean since then, what with adulthood and all.  But a new guy moved in down the block about six months ago and I've had my eye on him.  I think he's perfect.  Friendly, accomplished.  His house and yard are better than mine.  He has pets and children.  He's a doctor too but he's a CARDIOLOGIST.  He has charity events at his house.  His wife is WAY better looking than anything that wanders through my place.  The cops never go to HIS place because the neighbors hear weird sounds. He is always jogging or biking around.  In fact, he may be TOO GOOD to be my nemesis.  I may just have to run up to him, push him to the ground and run away.


    We need a good nemesis for Arkansas basketball.  Kentucky will do for a team but I'm talking about a player, someone that we know and love/hate, someone like Penny Hardaway.

    I have to say a few things first.  The 1993 basketball team is my favorite all-time team.  Even more so than the '78 team or the national title team.  After '92 I was convinced our run was over.  I thought Day, Mayberry and Miller were a once in a dozen years miracle and we wouldn't see that sort of talent again.  Before '93 I loved Nolan.  After '93 I worshipped him.

    It actually happened in late '92, the first game of the year, I think, but I'm not sure.  We opened with Memphis State, the same Memphis State team that had bounced our great MayDay team in the second round of the NCAAs about 8 months before.

    Memphis State was our nemesis as a team and Penny Hardaway was our nemesis as a player and man was he beautiful to watch.  If you don't remember that time we were in a horrible spot.  Memphis had a top ten team, virtually everybody back from an Elite Eight squad.  Penny was a junior (I think) and they had a 6'10" kid named David Vaughn who was a sophomore who had KILLED us in the tourney as a freshman and looked like he was going to be a big time pro.

    On the flip side we had lost just about everything.  We had Darrel Hawkins back, but he had never been anything but a role player.  Robert Shephard was back but he had been a disappointment the year before.  One of the missing elements that nobody talks about in the 2 seasons that followed the '89 final four trip was that we never found a replacement for Arlyn Bowers.  Nolan's schemes demanded a smaller, dogged defender that could occasionally stick a three.  That freed up Mayberry so he didn't have to guard the other teams point.  It was hoped that Shephard could  play that role as a juco transfer but he struggled.
    Clint McDaniel was looked to as someone that could make a leap but had never played a lot.  Corey Beck and Dwight Stewart were both juco transfers and we weren't sure what we were getting.  They were both from Memphis.  And Corliss was of course the major hope of that team as an incoming freshman but he had broken his foot in the preseason and nobody knew if he would be ready for the opener.

    So not only was our cupboard bare but Memphis State had beaten us twice in a row and they were now beating us for the best Memphis kids, Penny being the best example.  Because that was the thing, Penny should have been OURS.  We wanted him.  We followed him in high school.  At the time Memphis kids like Huery and Day were coming to US.  And Penny was the next guard in that evolution.  He was just that much better.  He should have been OURS.  It would have been SO PERFECT.

    But that is how you make a good nemesis.  And Penny was a great one.  He dominated the first half, along with Vaughn.  The hogs were tentative and confused and couldn't score to save their lives.  If Penny wanted a jumper he just rose up and shot.  On the break his vision was perfect and his passing deft.  He could finish way above the rim.

    Looking at the floor I just couldn't see where we were going to get points.  A kid named Roger Crawford came in and looked like he had a little heart and Corliss was doing okay.  But Dwight Stewart, who had been discussed as a possible replacement for Miller, came in and looked like a scared twelve year old with a hormone problem.  I thought at the time that he would NEVER be a player.

    At the half we were down something like 14 and it seemed like more.  I went outside to smoke with a friend at halftime and we were bitterly depressed.  We talked about how it was over, about how it was going to be a long season.  We also talked about Penny.

    I loved everything about Penny.  I even loved his name.  Anfernee Hardaway.  His first name was like some sort of phonetic spelling of an Ebonic mispronounciation.  EXCELLENT!  That is the stuff legends are made of.

    To this day Penny is the greatest basketball player I have ever seen in person and it's not really close.  And I have seen a lot of great ones.  I saw Bird but I was too young and too far away.  But he was better than the Triplets or Mayberry and Day.  Better than Olajuwan or Drexler or Shaq as college players.  Better than Ricky Pierce or Vinny Johnson or Terry Teagle.  Better than Alvin Robertson or Darrell Walker.  I'm not talking about what any of them became.  I'm talking about what they were in college.
    My father says that Sprewell was close to Penny but I wasn't there for that Bama game.  All I can tell you is what I saw.  Nolan compared him to Magic, Bird and Jordan.  At that age there really was nothing else to compare him to.  He was actually a combination of those three.  He nearly had the size of Magic and Bird.  He was about 6'7".  His passing was just a step below those two.  His athleticism and penetration was way above either of them and just below Jordan.  His shot was soft and natural and not as good as Bird but way better than Magic and a little better than Jordan.  He could do EVERYTHING and he was unselfish and he saw the floor and he could bury the three.  He wasn't a great defender but if had played for Nolan he would have been.

    In the end a million variables determine how good a player will become.  How hard they work and whether their bodies hold up being two big factors.  I have no idea how hard Penny worked.  But his incredible body betrayed him just a couple years into the pros and it is truly sad.  He was something to see.  He was what you want from a nemesis.


    I decided to use what might at first appear to be my weaknesses in my battle against the cardiologist.  I am a sad, lonely, pathetic bachelor.  And what are sad, lonely, pathetic bachelors good at?  Exactly.  Stalking via the internet.  While he was helping the poor and homeless or showing his wife and children how much he loved them, I would be digging through the binary minutiae of his life.  We would see who was the better man.

    First I checked the registered sex offenders  list for his name.  No luck.  It didn't prove anything as he could be breaking the law and not registering but even I have limits to how many state databases I'm willing to go through out of mere spite (4 it turns out).  I turned my attention to published papers and court cases which of course led to his med school divorce and child custody dispute.  A quick look at his phone number led me to his previous addresses and current occupants of those addresses and I found his ex-wife and a daughter.  Life is so simple some times.

    Date the ex-wife - as long as she isn't too much of a chubster.

    The second half was a different story.  I'm not sure what Nolan said to those guys but as far as I'm concerned he saved the program in that locker room.  Well, the fact that David Vaughn blew out his knee in the second half and ruined his career to the extent that I don't think he ever started another game helped a little.  Corliss looked great, if out of shape, in the second half.  But at some point he re-injured his foot.

    Somewhere around the 10 minute mark we became the team we would be for the next 2 years.  Scotty Thurman, an unheralded recruit, hit a big shot or two.  Roger Crawford buried a huge three.  Robert Shephard was an ANIMAL as he would be the rest of the season.  He was a steal MACHINE.  Nobody slapped the ball and hands like Corey Beck, Robert Shephard and Clint McDaniel.  At one point Memphis State just folded and quit.  (Yes the great Penny had a touch of quit in him.  That's why he should have come to play for US.  He would've become a winner.)

    The National Title team was born that day.  The one moment in the second half that stands out the most came early.  I still didn't know what to think of Beck.  He seemed kind of slow and maybe a little fat to me.  He didn't shoot it and I wasn't sure what he brought to the table.  Memphis always had one, sometimes two guys that were 6'5" muscled jumping jacks that could dunk but nothing else.  They could rebound a little but were horrible shooters and mediocre defenders.  They played more on their potential than anything else.  Two or three times a game this guy would get an offensive rebound and throw it off the backboard so hard it wouldn't even draw iron.  Think Larry Marks.  Corey Beck was guarding that guy in the second half and they were talking smack back and forth.  I figured it was the usual Memphis stuff.  But the Hogs were way down and had just got stuffed again and the dude was talking and talking.  So there was a break in the action for a second and the guy wasn't paying attention and Corey just walked up coolly and racked him.  Punched him hard right in the 'nads.  The guy bent over and Corey bent over with him and whispered something in his ear.  The refs missed it.  Everybody missed it.  The guy never fought back and was quiet the rest of the game.  He folded just like his team.  It was a Godfather moment.  I've loved Corey Beck ever since.

     I always saw him as the manhood of Arkansas Basketball.  The manhood we lost when Todd Day took that weak swing at Larry Johnson.  And that game was the manhood of Arkansas Basketball.  When we crushed our nemesis.


    My nemesis was out cutting his grass.  His two little boys were playing in battery powered jeeps.  A beautiful 3 or 4 year old girl was playing on a swing set fancy enough to be in a park.  The beautiful wife was trimming hedges.  She was wearing shorts and had the body of a tennis pro.

    I had checked out the ex-wife and found out she currently lived with a husky companion named Becca who wore cologne so my chances didn't look good.  I was jogging by the cardiologist's house and my white and nearly hairless legs were blinding oncoming traffic.  I was being taunted by guys in trucks as they drove by and my wind was so short I thought I would throw up at any moment.  It was a beautiful Arkansas spring day.  It smelled of honeysuckle and insecticide, fresh cut grass and dead squirrel.

    I spied the happy cardiologist out of the corner of my blurring vision.  I thought of Corey Beck.  Somewhere I found a burst of energy and sprinted towards the heart man.  He looked at me with bulging eyes as I gently pushed him.  He tottered like a weeble then fell to the ground as I scurried back to my home.

    I might need to find a new nemesis.  I think this one is going to file charges.

Vector