Monday, September 14, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
September 11.....8 years later
Every year when September 11 comes around, I never quite can wrap my head around the fact that it's been another year. I think I realize this fact more clearly on Sept. 11, maybe even more so than on birthdays or holidays. Last year on Sept. 11 I was actually in Atlanta visiting Portfolio Center and other schools trying to decide the next step in my life. It's funny to think that now here I sit, a student at Portfolio Center and already 3 quarters in.
This morning I remembered that I had an online blog/journal back on the week of Sept. 11, 2001, so I decided to go back and read what I wrote. It's interesting to think back to when I was a sophomore in high school and to realize how fast the last 8 years went by. Anyways, thought i'd post that old entry on here.
Remember, I was a little sophomore in high school, so it's quite funny to read how I wrote then. I think every year I remember the feeling of that day, and how even so far away in southeast Texas, how I somehow felt connected to the people affected by 9/11. I think it changed the whole outlook of every American. Anyways, I won't post where the blog is or the web address because all my other entries are pretty embarrassing. ha! anyways, here it is:
Friday, September 14th, 2001
ok, i haven't updated in here for awhile. I have been really really busy, and i was planning on not using this journal anymore, but so much stuff has happened that i just want to get it all out. as all of you know, this week has totally and completly sucked. its been one of the worsts weeks ever. Its just been one disaster after another, and i really am glad that its friday, but i don't think the end of the week will help most of the events that happened. The events on tuesday have really been bothering me and if i think about them too much, i scare myself. Theres just too much to think about. Something has really changed, and even though everything in our lives goes on as usual, i know that people are all thinking about the changes in the back of their minds. theres really no way around it. i read this story in language in which these men go back in time, and they change the slightest of the slightest detail in the past, and history was changed forever. thats how i feel about all this. it feels like we are somehow in another demension, and there is just something in the air that just isn't right. Its scary to think that about a week ago, none of us would be thinking about any of this. none of it would have even crossed our minds. When i think of war, i think of back when my parents were young, or before they were born, which is not realistic to me. this is so real and so close that it puts everything into reality. We will be telling our kids where we were, and when this happened. history books will write about this in bold writing. Everyone remembers where they were when they found out about princess diana dying, or about columbine highschool, or when the oklahoma bombing happened. all of us will remember this as one of those events. Its scary that we were living that day normally, and in some other country, someone was plotting against us. maybe planning for over a year. hating us so much that they would do something like this. I am not directly affected by these events except that i know things will never be the same again. I cannot imagine how the people who lost people in this disaster feel. they may never have complete answers as to why those people had to be the ones used for another country's pure hate for america. I can't comprehend how anyone in other countries could be celebrating all that we have lost this week. I have always felt safe in this country, and when i would think about being unsafe, i would refer to other countries located half a world away. but now, i don't know how safe i feel anymore. I wish we could go back and change what happened. it screwed up the whole atmosphere of the country. everyone is paranoid, and feeling unsafe. Evertone tries to move on and act normal, but its hard when the U.S. is invaded and attacked with our own planes, with our own people aboard being held captive. Every conversation ends up turning towards the subject. theres just too much to worry about now.
anyways, i have been stressing about volleyball and stuff, and then i think about how unimportant volleyball is compared to everything else going on in the world. Basically everything in this week has sucked.
anyways, i have been stressing about volleyball and stuff, and then i think about how unimportant volleyball is compared to everything else going on in the world. Basically everything in this week has sucked.
anyways, hope everyone remembers to say a little prayer and gives thanks for their health and safety today, and for people still suffering from the events on that morning 8 years ago.
in other news, it's a mad rush until critique on tuesday night. Studio week is almost over! can't wait to be done with these classes!!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Colt McCoy as a hero to many
Colt McCoy as a hero to many
Posted using ShareThis
This article appears in the August 24 issue of ESPN The Magazine as the cover story.
Colt, do not let us down. Seriously. because we are doing something we almost never do. We're abandoning snark and cynicism and writing an honest-to-goodness love letter. We always like a little dirt, a fault, a misstep. And we asked lots of folks who track almost every move you make to give it up. But no one had anything. If not for the burly shadow cast by that goody-two-shoes Tebow, everyone would already know this stuff about you, too. In fact, like Tebow, you've even got your own man-on-a-mission legend.
Let us tell the readers, since you'd never think to.
Last spring, McCoy traveled to Iquitos, Peru, on a volunteer mission organized by a nondenominational Christian camp in Texas. The children he met over his 10-day stay had never heard of American football, much less the Texas Longhorns or their star QB. These were kids who slept on dirt floors in the Amazon jungle and considered running water a luxury. But when McCoy returned to Iquitos for a 10-day mission this past spring, the children and local translators knew the Longhorns had finished 12-1 and won the Fiesta Bowl. McCoy had left an impression; each week during the season, the translators pooled their money to rent a motorcycle so one of them could ride to a neighboring village with an Internet café and check game results.
Colt McCoy, standing at the beginning of what figures to be a magical ride for Texas football.
See what we mean, Colt? Now imagine what it's like for people who know you, who love the Horns the way they love their mama. You inspire them. In a way VY, the man you replaced, never did. And it's not that you read Scripture and recite the Lord's Prayer before running out of the tunnel. It's not even that you've beaten up on the Sooners. It's bigger than churchgoing and winning. It's positively heroic. But if we tried to explain it, we'd get so mushy they'd take away our press passes.
Instead, your biggest fans are ready to testify.
THE NEIGHBORS: KEN AND PATINA HERRINGTON, GRAHAM, TEXAS
GAME DAY RITUAL: Dressed in matching No. 12 jerseys, the Herringtons walk the neighborhood an hour before kickoff, mingling with other UT fans in a tradition they call the Victory Walk. Back at home, they play "Texas Fight," fill their frosty UT mugs with beer, pop popcorn and flick on the TV.
THEIR TESTIMONY: Around 9 p.m. on Memorial Day 2006, Colt and his father, Brad, were fishing behind their home in Graham -- where they'd moved after Colt graduated from high school -- when they heard screaming from across the lake.
Dad and son kicked off their shoes, removed their shirts and dived into Timber Ridge Lake for the 300-yard swim to the other side. When they arrived, out of breath, they found Patina screaming and her husband, Ken, lying on a dock, suffering one of 12 grand mal seizures he would have that night. Another neighbor had heard the screams and called 911. The ambulance was unable to navigate the steep 575-yard rocky path that led down to the lake. Colt charged up the hill, without his shoes and with a flashlight, to guide the EMTs down to Ken, a former NASA engineer who helped put Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin on the moon. Once Ken was stabilized, Colt, Brad and several neighbors helped the EMTs carry Ken's stretcher up the path. It wasn't until Ken was in the medevac that Patina realized who had helped her husband.
"It was so dark," she says. "I heard someone say Colt, and thought, That was Colt McCoy?" Ken survived the ordeal, and once the couple were back at home, Patina, a Longhorns fan, e-mailed the local media to tell the story. She knew the McCoys never would. "I'd like to think everybody would do what he did," Patina says. "But let's face it, not everybody would." Now it isn't Christmas at the Herrington house until the lights on the UT Christmas tree are lit.
"Colt saved a life," Patina says. "What better describes a hero than that?"
THE SURVIVOR: SERGIO GONZALES, AUSTIN, TEXAS
GAME DAY RITUAL: Sergio wears a Colt jersey; Rupert the Bear wears a UT hat.
HIS TESTIMONY: On July 27, 2008, Veronica Orozco checked her 12-year-old son, Sergio, into the Dell Children's Medical Center in Austin for tests. The next day, the doctors diagnosed acute biphenotypic leukemia, a rare form of cancer that affects fewer than 200,000 people in the U.S. Sergio spent a month in the hospital and was in and out of Dell for the next four months. He missed most of seventh grade and had to quit football. "I played safety," Sergio says. "I'm really fast." During those months, he got his weekly football fix by watching his favorite team, the Longhorns, on TV.
Before the season began, a nurse told Sergio that the UT football team visited the hospital on Fridays before home games. He was psyched. Especially when he found out his favorite player, You Know Who, never missed a visit. But Sergio was discharged before getting a chance to meet his hero. He was crushed. What he didn't know was that the nurses made sure McCoy knew about him.
Two weeks later, Sergio was at a nearby clinic for tests. After making his rounds at the hospital, McCoy made the 10-minute walk to meet Sergio. "It meant so much," Orozco says.
For the rest of the season, McCoy checked on Sergio's status and stopped by his room if he had been admitted. On UT Fridays, Sergio always wore his hat and autographed Colt McCoy jersey and dressed his stuffed bear, Rupert, in a Longhorns hat. "Colt always remembers Rupert's name," Sergio says. According to the staff at Dell, McCoy remembers everyone's names, from children to nurses to front office folks. "He has an incredible gift," says Ashley Davis, special events coordinator at Dell.
At the end of November, Sergio traveled to San Antonio to undergo a bone marrow transplant, after which he spent six months in the hospital recovering from complications. During that time, the memory of McCoy's visits meant more than ever to Sergio and Veronica. "Colt treats me like I'm not sick," says Sergio, who is now cancer-free and plans to return to school part-time in the fall. "Colt told me to keep fighting, to never give up," he says.
"A lot of celebrities and professional athletes come through here," says Davis. "But no one reaches these kids like Colt. When he is visiting, you can feel his presence."
THE TEACHER: KAY WHITTON, JIM NED HIGH, TUSCOLA, TEXAS
GAME DAY RITUAL: Whitton dons her No. 12 jersey and sets the DVR to record. "That way, I don't miss a minute if someone calls or comes to the door," she says. "But everyone knows not to call me on game day."
HER TESTIMONY: Shortly after watching the 2008 Heisman ceremony at home in Tuscola, Whitton, McCoy's high school business teacher and his self-proclaimed No. 1 fan, got a phone call from a certain somebody who was visiting New York.
"Hey, Miss Whitton! It's Colt. I'm in the limo, and we're about to go under the Hudson River." Whitton was giddy. During the show, ESPN ran a segment on Tuscola, and McCoy was calling to thank his favorite teacher for helping with the logistics. "I can't tell you what a feeling that was, knowing he took time out of his crazy schedule to call," she says.
Whitton, like most of Tuscola's 714 residents, believed Colt was shafted out of a Heisman. But that hasn't stopped assistant football coach Vince Lavallee from talking about erecting a Colt McCoy statue in front of the school. Whitton has even bigger plans. "If -- when -- he wins this year, we are going to paint the town water tower to say, 'Tuscola: Home of Colt McCoy,' " she says. Bigger still, she's lobbying to permanently add an eighth letter to the town name. Welcome to Tuscolta.
THE TEAMMATE: JORDAN SHIPLEY, WR, TEXAS LONGHORNS
GAME DAY RITUAL : Catches (132), yards (1,706) and touchdowns (20).
HIS TESTIMONY: One day during Shipley's freshman year, coach Mack Brown asked him if he thought a prep QB from West Texas was good enough to play in Austin. "I'd known Colt since we were 8," Shipley says. "I knew he was gifted, but, really, I wanted a good friend on the team."
Three years later, the off-field friendship -- they're fishing buddies, do charity work together, play Tom Petty songs on harmonicas -- has helped them on the field, too. "We know each other's tendencies so well, and that goes a long way in football," Shipley says.
Take a play during the first quarter of last year's Oklahoma State game. It's first down from the OSU 14, and McCoy calls a run in the huddle. "At the line, he looked at the defense and audibled to a screen to the outside receiver," Shipley says. "But then he gave me a nod and changed the play again. It was spur of the moment, and he didn't say a word. But I knew exactly where he was going." McCoy took the snap, stepped up and threw a fade to Shipley. Fourteen yards. Touchdown.
"I don't know if anyone else in the country can do what he can," says Shipley, who, along with Brandon Collins, Malcolm Williams and James Kirkendoll, is part of one of the strongest receiving corps in college football.
"He's the best there is."
THE EDITOR: CHRIS BEREND, DEPUTY EDITOR, ESPN THE MAGAZINE
GAME DAY RITUAL: "Saturday is stressful," says Berend, whose wife leaves their Brooklyn pad to him, his four UT friends and the couple's poodle, Barkley, dressed in a Colt McCoy sweater.
HIS TESTIMONY: The Mag's college football brain trust thought this story was their idea. That's what Berend, 34, wanted them to think. Truth is, he began planning this three years ago, when the UT alum joined The Mag. He needed them to believe they were the ones who saw something in the kid under center at Texas. Them. Not the guy with the burnt-orange No. 12 rubber ducky on his desk.
He was patient, methodical. He proselytized at morning meetings and on e-mail chains, journalistic objectivity be damned. He erected a small shrine at his desk, subliminally planting images of Colt McCoy in the minds of the entire staff. He played inspirational highlight videos on his Mac and retold stories he'd read online about the guy he calls "America's only safe hero." It was all so transparent, so diabolically effective. You're reading this story, aren't you?
Last summer, Berend and The Mag were looking to pick the brains of some college players. Always obliging, Colt agreed to help. Little did he know, Berend's other motive was to get McCoy face time with one of our college football editors, just to seal the deal on this story. But then, in the presence of Colt, Berend clammed up. "I was speechless," he says. "I wanted to ask him what it feels like to run out of the tunnel, if he still talks to Vince Young, if he wanted to hang out with me. But I froze up. Not a word came out."
So, Chris, this is for a job well done: He gets nervous in the tunnel. Yes, he still talks to Vince. And, sure, you can hang anytime you're in town. Isn't it obvious? This man won't let you down.
Posted using ShareThis
This article appears in the August 24 issue of ESPN The Magazine as the cover story.
Colt, do not let us down. Seriously. because we are doing something we almost never do. We're abandoning snark and cynicism and writing an honest-to-goodness love letter. We always like a little dirt, a fault, a misstep. And we asked lots of folks who track almost every move you make to give it up. But no one had anything. If not for the burly shadow cast by that goody-two-shoes Tebow, everyone would already know this stuff about you, too. In fact, like Tebow, you've even got your own man-on-a-mission legend.
Let us tell the readers, since you'd never think to.
Last spring, McCoy traveled to Iquitos, Peru, on a volunteer mission organized by a nondenominational Christian camp in Texas. The children he met over his 10-day stay had never heard of American football, much less the Texas Longhorns or their star QB. These were kids who slept on dirt floors in the Amazon jungle and considered running water a luxury. But when McCoy returned to Iquitos for a 10-day mission this past spring, the children and local translators knew the Longhorns had finished 12-1 and won the Fiesta Bowl. McCoy had left an impression; each week during the season, the translators pooled their money to rent a motorcycle so one of them could ride to a neighboring village with an Internet café and check game results.
Colt McCoy, standing at the beginning of what figures to be a magical ride for Texas football.
See what we mean, Colt? Now imagine what it's like for people who know you, who love the Horns the way they love their mama. You inspire them. In a way VY, the man you replaced, never did. And it's not that you read Scripture and recite the Lord's Prayer before running out of the tunnel. It's not even that you've beaten up on the Sooners. It's bigger than churchgoing and winning. It's positively heroic. But if we tried to explain it, we'd get so mushy they'd take away our press passes.
Instead, your biggest fans are ready to testify.
THE NEIGHBORS: KEN AND PATINA HERRINGTON, GRAHAM, TEXAS
GAME DAY RITUAL: Dressed in matching No. 12 jerseys, the Herringtons walk the neighborhood an hour before kickoff, mingling with other UT fans in a tradition they call the Victory Walk. Back at home, they play "Texas Fight," fill their frosty UT mugs with beer, pop popcorn and flick on the TV.
THEIR TESTIMONY: Around 9 p.m. on Memorial Day 2006, Colt and his father, Brad, were fishing behind their home in Graham -- where they'd moved after Colt graduated from high school -- when they heard screaming from across the lake.
Dad and son kicked off their shoes, removed their shirts and dived into Timber Ridge Lake for the 300-yard swim to the other side. When they arrived, out of breath, they found Patina screaming and her husband, Ken, lying on a dock, suffering one of 12 grand mal seizures he would have that night. Another neighbor had heard the screams and called 911. The ambulance was unable to navigate the steep 575-yard rocky path that led down to the lake. Colt charged up the hill, without his shoes and with a flashlight, to guide the EMTs down to Ken, a former NASA engineer who helped put Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin on the moon. Once Ken was stabilized, Colt, Brad and several neighbors helped the EMTs carry Ken's stretcher up the path. It wasn't until Ken was in the medevac that Patina realized who had helped her husband.
"It was so dark," she says. "I heard someone say Colt, and thought, That was Colt McCoy?" Ken survived the ordeal, and once the couple were back at home, Patina, a Longhorns fan, e-mailed the local media to tell the story. She knew the McCoys never would. "I'd like to think everybody would do what he did," Patina says. "But let's face it, not everybody would." Now it isn't Christmas at the Herrington house until the lights on the UT Christmas tree are lit.
"Colt saved a life," Patina says. "What better describes a hero than that?"
THE SURVIVOR: SERGIO GONZALES, AUSTIN, TEXAS
GAME DAY RITUAL: Sergio wears a Colt jersey; Rupert the Bear wears a UT hat.
HIS TESTIMONY: On July 27, 2008, Veronica Orozco checked her 12-year-old son, Sergio, into the Dell Children's Medical Center in Austin for tests. The next day, the doctors diagnosed acute biphenotypic leukemia, a rare form of cancer that affects fewer than 200,000 people in the U.S. Sergio spent a month in the hospital and was in and out of Dell for the next four months. He missed most of seventh grade and had to quit football. "I played safety," Sergio says. "I'm really fast." During those months, he got his weekly football fix by watching his favorite team, the Longhorns, on TV.
Before the season began, a nurse told Sergio that the UT football team visited the hospital on Fridays before home games. He was psyched. Especially when he found out his favorite player, You Know Who, never missed a visit. But Sergio was discharged before getting a chance to meet his hero. He was crushed. What he didn't know was that the nurses made sure McCoy knew about him.
Two weeks later, Sergio was at a nearby clinic for tests. After making his rounds at the hospital, McCoy made the 10-minute walk to meet Sergio. "It meant so much," Orozco says.
For the rest of the season, McCoy checked on Sergio's status and stopped by his room if he had been admitted. On UT Fridays, Sergio always wore his hat and autographed Colt McCoy jersey and dressed his stuffed bear, Rupert, in a Longhorns hat. "Colt always remembers Rupert's name," Sergio says. According to the staff at Dell, McCoy remembers everyone's names, from children to nurses to front office folks. "He has an incredible gift," says Ashley Davis, special events coordinator at Dell.
At the end of November, Sergio traveled to San Antonio to undergo a bone marrow transplant, after which he spent six months in the hospital recovering from complications. During that time, the memory of McCoy's visits meant more than ever to Sergio and Veronica. "Colt treats me like I'm not sick," says Sergio, who is now cancer-free and plans to return to school part-time in the fall. "Colt told me to keep fighting, to never give up," he says.
"A lot of celebrities and professional athletes come through here," says Davis. "But no one reaches these kids like Colt. When he is visiting, you can feel his presence."
THE TEACHER: KAY WHITTON, JIM NED HIGH, TUSCOLA, TEXAS
GAME DAY RITUAL: Whitton dons her No. 12 jersey and sets the DVR to record. "That way, I don't miss a minute if someone calls or comes to the door," she says. "But everyone knows not to call me on game day."
HER TESTIMONY: Shortly after watching the 2008 Heisman ceremony at home in Tuscola, Whitton, McCoy's high school business teacher and his self-proclaimed No. 1 fan, got a phone call from a certain somebody who was visiting New York.
"Hey, Miss Whitton! It's Colt. I'm in the limo, and we're about to go under the Hudson River." Whitton was giddy. During the show, ESPN ran a segment on Tuscola, and McCoy was calling to thank his favorite teacher for helping with the logistics. "I can't tell you what a feeling that was, knowing he took time out of his crazy schedule to call," she says.
Whitton, like most of Tuscola's 714 residents, believed Colt was shafted out of a Heisman. But that hasn't stopped assistant football coach Vince Lavallee from talking about erecting a Colt McCoy statue in front of the school. Whitton has even bigger plans. "If -- when -- he wins this year, we are going to paint the town water tower to say, 'Tuscola: Home of Colt McCoy,' " she says. Bigger still, she's lobbying to permanently add an eighth letter to the town name. Welcome to Tuscolta.
THE TEAMMATE: JORDAN SHIPLEY, WR, TEXAS LONGHORNS
GAME DAY RITUAL : Catches (132), yards (1,706) and touchdowns (20).
HIS TESTIMONY: One day during Shipley's freshman year, coach Mack Brown asked him if he thought a prep QB from West Texas was good enough to play in Austin. "I'd known Colt since we were 8," Shipley says. "I knew he was gifted, but, really, I wanted a good friend on the team."
Three years later, the off-field friendship -- they're fishing buddies, do charity work together, play Tom Petty songs on harmonicas -- has helped them on the field, too. "We know each other's tendencies so well, and that goes a long way in football," Shipley says.
Take a play during the first quarter of last year's Oklahoma State game. It's first down from the OSU 14, and McCoy calls a run in the huddle. "At the line, he looked at the defense and audibled to a screen to the outside receiver," Shipley says. "But then he gave me a nod and changed the play again. It was spur of the moment, and he didn't say a word. But I knew exactly where he was going." McCoy took the snap, stepped up and threw a fade to Shipley. Fourteen yards. Touchdown.
"I don't know if anyone else in the country can do what he can," says Shipley, who, along with Brandon Collins, Malcolm Williams and James Kirkendoll, is part of one of the strongest receiving corps in college football.
"He's the best there is."
THE EDITOR: CHRIS BEREND, DEPUTY EDITOR, ESPN THE MAGAZINE
GAME DAY RITUAL: "Saturday is stressful," says Berend, whose wife leaves their Brooklyn pad to him, his four UT friends and the couple's poodle, Barkley, dressed in a Colt McCoy sweater.
HIS TESTIMONY: The Mag's college football brain trust thought this story was their idea. That's what Berend, 34, wanted them to think. Truth is, he began planning this three years ago, when the UT alum joined The Mag. He needed them to believe they were the ones who saw something in the kid under center at Texas. Them. Not the guy with the burnt-orange No. 12 rubber ducky on his desk.
He was patient, methodical. He proselytized at morning meetings and on e-mail chains, journalistic objectivity be damned. He erected a small shrine at his desk, subliminally planting images of Colt McCoy in the minds of the entire staff. He played inspirational highlight videos on his Mac and retold stories he'd read online about the guy he calls "America's only safe hero." It was all so transparent, so diabolically effective. You're reading this story, aren't you?
Last summer, Berend and The Mag were looking to pick the brains of some college players. Always obliging, Colt agreed to help. Little did he know, Berend's other motive was to get McCoy face time with one of our college football editors, just to seal the deal on this story. But then, in the presence of Colt, Berend clammed up. "I was speechless," he says. "I wanted to ask him what it feels like to run out of the tunnel, if he still talks to Vince Young, if he wanted to hang out with me. But I froze up. Not a word came out."
So, Chris, this is for a job well done: He gets nervous in the tunnel. Yes, he still talks to Vince. And, sure, you can hang anytime you're in town. Isn't it obvious? This man won't let you down.
ah the life of a portfolio center student....
e-mail from my school to the students:
friday 7-9
sat 11-5
sun 11-5
They will be using the entire seminar room.
Claire
hahahahaha, i found this mildly entertaining
hahaha
BYU's Clawson conflicted after hit on Bradford
September 8, 2009 11:05 AM
Posted by ESPN.com's Tim Griffin
BYU senior linebacker Coleby Clawson said he has mixed feelings about his hit that knockedSam Bradford out of Saturday's game, causing a sprain of the Oklahoma quarterback's AC shoulder joint.
"It's kind of the nature of the beast, I guess, playing football," Clawson told the Salt Lake City Deseret News. "I really do feel bad because he's a great player and a good person, too. I feel bad he got hurt. I hope he can get back soon.
"As far as our game, I think it helped us win. I love rushing the quarterback. That's what I did as a defensive end when I played at Snow College. I'm always trying to get big hits, but I'm never trying to put guys out or hurt anybody."
Clawson is a former LDS missionary who's married and has a young daughter. He said that most Oklahoma fans were classy to his family as his wife watched the game in Arlington, Texas, wearing his jersey.
"OU's fans were really great. They treated my family and my wife good. They were some of the most classy fans I've ever met," Clawson said. "(Family members) were in the middle of all the BYU fans, so I think they felt safe. (OU fans) even came up and congratulated us."
But there has been a recent backlash. Some Oklahoma fans have expressed their displeasure to Clawson.
"I've had a few messages through Facebook and stuff on my e-mail," he said. "I think it was mostly sarcasm, but there was a few OU fans that told me where to go. Overall, everyone's been really classy about it."
Bradford told reporters that he expects to be back in Oklahoma's lineup in two to four weeks.
But it wouldn't surprise me if Clawson's hit ends up being the biggest play in the Big 12 season.
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