Hawaii on Crack

or as Coach Hullabaloo has been saying: this is some Crazy A$$ Place.

First, I have to say: I love Hawaii. Love it. Love it. We definitely saved the best for last, and I say that with complete honesty.

The seedy, unkept areas kinda put a damper on the experience, but once you get past that: it truly is gorgeous here. I share these thoughts with you while watching the sun rise over Diamondhead. The sky is turning from onyx to sapphire blue. A supple balmy breeze is skimming around me like feather massage. Waikiki hasn't started bustling yet. It is just delightful.....and Channing Tatum is calling for me from our canopied bed - okay, okay, okay, Mrs. Hullabaloo is getting carried away ha! but really, Hawaii is stunning.

It makes me wish that Hawaii were in our conference (as well as keeping Utep despite Mike Price. Because I really loved how unique and "autentico" El Paso was - it was such an adventure! and you know how Coach and Mrs. Hullabaloo love them some adventures!)

How awesome would it to be able to come here to Oahu every other year? Heck, Hawaii just traveled to play Tech in Ruston, you'd think they'd be up on coming to New Orleans. And I would just love to do a cute polynesian themed tailgate with pineapple fried rice and satay. (Don't you just love that idea?!)

But anyways, back to what you came here to read. The Lowdown on the game. Y'all I can only describe it like being on crack or taking a hit of something if I actually knew what any of that was like. It was complete sensory overload and then some. Like a SNL Variety Show being performed amidst a college football game. And I say this in all earnesty despite living in a place like New Orleans!

First a preview: Coach Hullabaloo and I didn't make it to the Thanksgiving Luau, but we heard all about it 4000 miles away. When we got to the hotel Coach Hullabaloo shared an elevator with a player and when Coach asked him about the Infamous Tulane Luau, his eyes got as big as saucers - it wasn't until the player confirmed that Coach Hullabaloo was not some official from the University that he spilled the beans. Apparently a good time was majorly had by some, including a staff member we'll call Slye Lyka. Slye went toe up drunk at the Luau, but not before giving a rabble rousing speech about winning the game that shocked players and family members alike. It sounded like a classic moment and gawd I wished I had been there to see it.

So now back to the game: Hawaii is not your traditional crisp NCAA college town atmosphere with spirit shakers and cute gameday dresses. It's kinda more Jersey Shore than The Grove - it was telling how rough Hawaiians are by how many cops (not Security, I mean COPS!) there were. (As we were walking around the crowd during halftime Coach shared this story with me from his Marine Corps days when his ship docked in Hawaii. Something about an ill-fated bus ride to the wrong part of town and having to elude a gang of Samoans hellbent on picking a fight, an overturned Suzuki Samuri was involved)

The concessions at the stadium reminded me of a bustling street scene from Bangkok. Skewered pineapple pork satay, Teriyaki burgers, Huli Huli Chicken - and enough beer stands to lubricate decades worth of Mardi Gras. Steinlager, Heineken, Nutbrown Ale, Bud, Mikes Hard Lemonade, on and on and on. And y'all, there wasn't a Hawaiian that I didn't see clutching two 32 ouncers and washing them down in one gulp. It's like a dream sequence or soemthing where you notice one thing and then you notice a thousand of the same thing. It was a sea of Hawaiian beer drinkers. Bourbon Street would be scared of these people.

Earlier when I was assembling my cute GameDay outfit, I had found the perfect green and blue necklace while spending Coach Hullabaloo's money on Kalukaua Avenue to go with the perfect adorable green and blue tropical flower dress I had found back home - I was just loving how cute it all was. And then wouldn't you know God decides to humble me by sending a monsoon storm to the Aloha Stadium.

I have to say though - how awesome is this shirt?!


Belongs to a SuperFan who won the trip by being a lifelong TAF donor. I am coveting this shirt now.

Anyways, this monsoon just didn't just come and go. It would scream in, taper off, I'd uncover my head from the damn rain poncho I had to buy then the annoying drizzle would start back up again, winds would pick up and wham-o the deluge would ensue. You know that scene in Forrest Gump where he's describing the rain in Vietnam. Ok, that was us in Hawaii's stadium. We were sitting with the parents I'll call Fun Couple. Daddy Fun Couple sat through that whole thing with a towel on his head. I don't know how he did it.

So in the middle of this crazy weather situation happening, everyone in the upper decks of the stands would shred their game day programs (that weren't magazines, they were like copies of The Gambit) into confetti and toss it out in the wind so that the entire inside of the bowl was snowing gameday programs.

- I hope that I am building up this image for you because being here in Hawaii to watch the game live was something else -

I don't know if this was Hawaiian hospitality or what, but they put the visiting section in the endzone next to the UH Marching Band. And the UH Drumline. And their dance team, The Rainbow Dancers. And the "Vili The Warrior" Hawaii Mascot, who had his own polynesian drum corps.


With the monsoon, the confetti, the dance team and all the fights breaking out, nevermind the game - you didn't know where to put your eyes from one second to the next.

And y'all. That dance team.

Here's a pre-game picture of the Rainbow Dancers visiting the Tulane Tailgate.


Very innocent and sweet at first glance, yet eyebrow raising in that peephole top.


Those calendars they were selling (I can only imagine the car wash fundraisers here) were Holy Inappropriate-ness in my opinion and portent of things to come.

Coach Hullabaloo woke up still laughing this morning about The Variety Hour at Aloha Stadium. He started joking that they were probably all with chiropracters this morning. He even started imitating them by pretend whipping his hair around - I wish you could hear his "swishing" soundtrack he added as he tried some signature UH Dance Team moves. (Oh, my Coach Hullabaloo!). But y'all: those girls did not stop! They musta had a case of Red Bull each.

One minute the Rainbow Dancers are doing their interpretation of So You Think You Can Dance in that precarious peephole top, then they're lining up side by side and doing like a showdown of who can leap the best - you know one by one coming out like a game of Red Rover and doing leaping pirouettes and then - ouch- landing onto the ground in a split. Then the UH Marching Band would kick it into high gear for the next number. All while the confetti, the monsoon kicking up, and Vili, the Hawaiian Mascot, was doing his war dance thingie and our Zach Davis is bringing it back to the red zone on an interception. It was balls to the wall nuts.

This is an old 2006 video of the Rainbow Dancers amidst confetti to bring this to you as vividly as I can


The UH Drumline and the Rainbow Dancers didn't give it a rest the entire game. They just booty shaked on the sideline, marched right out and did their half time booty shaking in long form and booty shaked off the field to booty shake some more until the clock said 0:00. It was beyond impressive. I can not stop writing about it.

So towards the end of the third quarter, two fights break out simultaneously. To our right and to our left.

To our right this group of Hawaii fans (guys) I think stole a pizza or did something askew, because another Hawaii fan ("Hawaii Fan B") called the cops over and whatever sin it was, Hawaii Fan B called the perp ("Hawaii Fan A") a "F*&cking A##hole" (yes! Hawaii Fan B said this!) to the cops and well that was sufficient accusation for them. Hawaii Fan A was handcuffed up and literally dragged out the stadium.

The picture I have below is just when it was just 2 cops. Because Hawaii Fan A made himself dead weight and the two cops had to call for backup, so then there were like 7 of them at the scene.

Meanwhile Hawaii Fan A's friends are all video taping the scene with their phones and screaming "Pepper Spray Him!" and laughing at the developing drama (! Yes, they were doing that to their friend! what friends!!!). Hawaii Fan A is waving his Hang Ten Foam Fingers at the crowd and his friends (how funny were those foam fingers?) as he is literally being dragged out the stadium OccupyHawaii-style.

To our left, one of the Tulane Coach's wives had had enough of the Peanut Gallery comments from one of the player's parents who are just as fed up as the rest of the fanbase on the playcalling this season. So she got up and started screaming at the player's family that her husband had experience either playing or coaching 2 NFL Teams (? it was all happening so fast I can't remember her tirade. Besides, I can only do so much multi-tasking). She was causing such a stir that the cops who were tending to Hawaii Fan A and his drama, notice the commotion and come over to start putting the kibosh on her! OMG, it was high drama unfolding because I thought she was about to get handcuffed and whisked away. Luckily I think she identified herself and explained her beef and they let it be.

And all the while y'all the UH Dance Team, the Rainbow Dancers, didn't miss a beat like all this commotion is normal - shown here doing their conga-style Kick Line number while Hawaii Fan A is being dragged away.


This was by far the most entertaining Tulane Game of the Toledo-Hutson Era since we were 9-7 in the first half with LSU at the dome in 2007. It deserved a Tony or an Emmy or something. Jamar Thomas with that insane kick return run, Zach Davis interception, and another interception. All to the tune of the Hawaii 5-0 Score/Soundtrack by the UH Marching Band and their Rainbow Dancers (which was cute in my opinion that they included that in the repetoire). Yeah, I wished that the Wave could have pulled out a win, sigh. But this season is what it is and the only thing I can do is witness, enjoy as it unfolds and report back to you.

At the end of the game, Vili came over and then another Hawaii Superfan came over and thanked us for coming. I was honestly just grateful for the Magic Carpet Ride to have pulled back into the stop.

So I'm off to the beach now, R&R in Hanama Bay.....Mazel my petit choux!

Greenbackers in Hawaii

More to come, but here's a shot of the Greenbackers and Rick Dickson at the Tulane Tailgate here in Hawaii.

Aloha or bust!

With minimal threats to mutually divorce each other, we are packed with thanksgiving dinner in ice chests headed out for our Hawaiian holidays via Dallas.

Thanksgiving with Momma and Poppa Hullabaloo to give thanks that Wave Basketball is on a roll, the old man has opened his wallet for a real coach, and thankful for all that is Olive and Blue. Amen.

And then off to Hawaii for 6 days.

Tulane Alumni Office is hosting a tailgate in the Aloha Zone before the game Saturday, which I am totally looking forward to.

My friend Sugar gave me some recommendations and I'm sharing them with you! Sugar says to get Mai Tais at The Royal Hawaiian Hotel. The lagoon at Ko'Olina is a great non touristy spot for swimming. Duke's Waikiki serves tasty dinner and fish. The Hilton Resort is the perfect spot to catch the sunset. And a former Miss Hawaii can be seen at House Without a Key.

Sugar says I also should not miss shopping on Kalakaua Avenue.

Oh, so much to be thankful for!

Mazel Tov my petits choux!

The Weekend From Hell

Ha! It SO was, on so many levels....

Firsties, The Doberge Conspiracy in Reverse TM. I'm trade marking that term y'all, for real.

I know y'all were clamoring about my Rice Update earlier and I apologize. But I was unavoidably detained by gossipping duties. And Y'all: Shizzle. Was. Hitting. The. Fan. In the Greenie Dat Nation this weekend.

ALL kinda ways....

So it kinda all started going downhill for me when Wilson Van Hooser's TD was called back for a penalty. Oy! How many of those must we endure? Robert Kelly's TD taken away at Utep. Xavier Rush's TD taken away at Syracuse. That incomplete pass taken away for the Syracuse game...and then this final indignity! Especially when they were holding ALL DAY and we were the ones getting stuck with penalties. How does that work exactly? That's what I wanna know.


These photos have nothing to do with anything other than I took them at the game and I enjoyed them. So I am sharing.

(and then I just have to mention.....did y'all notice how those hurricane-force winds would die down just in the knick of time whenever the Rice kicker would boot the ball for field goals? !!!!! Dear Sweet Baby Jesus, What did we do wrong? Please let me know when our Karmic Debts have been paid in full!)

Ok, so then we are wrapping up to head home, we are sitting on the bus completely unaware of the impending fracas which would be The Flight Home. Football Operations peeps come on the bus and announce that our usual Modus Operandi* of getting off the bus on the tarmac and whisked away onto the plane unencumbered isn't happening because for some reason the Southwest Charter is making us actually go in to the Houston Hobby Airport, go through regular security and then meet up at the gate. All 100 of us or whatever. Yeah. That went sideways.

*Look at me acting like a professional here. I've done exactly 3 trips with the Team, and I am totally inflating this for my ego. ha!


....Yes, I have to point out here that the Rice Marching Owl Band are weird. In addition to these "tongues" hanging out of their tubas, they also zip lined this mannequin into their half time performance from the stands. It promptly broke in two upon impact from smash landing onto the turf...... I didn't get it. But, I digress....

Ok, so a friend of ours whom I'll call Matlock immediately starts freaking out and unpacking his laptop case, combing through each and every pocket because, he, like the rest of us tossed his luggage underneath the bus. Which means that his car keys now may or may not be held hostage with the other luggage underneath the bus and now he won't be able to just take his bags and get in his car at the New Orleans airport when arriving at the other side. This is because the luggage would immediately get put onto the buses and only unloaded out at Wilson Center. Prior to this his cell phone fell and black-screened completely. So that was a downer also.

So then we get to the general people Kiss and Fly departure curb at the airport, every man for himself ambles off the buses. There's no escort from Southwest waiting or nothing so it is like hearding cats trying to figure out where to go. This way, no that way. Up these escalators, down the other escalators. Down one hallway, Oops, turn around to backtrack. Oy. Then finally. Make it to Security.

Ok, well the players normally get gatorade or whatnot before getting on the plane with their boxed dinner. So now Security is all kinds of up in arms because everyone's got liquid. And toothpaste in their backpack. Cause don't you know Al Qaida has chosen to infiltrate the Tulane Football team (the weakest point in our national security system) in order to stage a terrorist plot. So what was supposed to be a 7:15 take off, now is approaching 8pm. I was dying.

So we get to Nola and Matlock has decided that his keys are most definitely lost so his car now definitively needed to spend the night at Moisant. Coach and Mrs. Hullabaloo were happy to bail him out on a ride home. Except that -again- the plane gets to Nola and there's no instructions so everyone starts filing out on the jetway into the Terminal and we're told to go back. So everyone files back onto the jetway where we stand, trapped, for another 20 minutes-half hour until someone else can give us instructions on what was happening.

In the interim, we're getting conflicting reports about exiting the terminal vs. going back towards the exit stairs to the tarmac. Back and forth we shuffle. In the midst of it, a staff member who was behind Coach Hullabaloo was chatting, not paying attention that the line of people had stopped and she bumps into him - but has her hand cupped about to get something out of her bag or something and so she GRABS my husband's ass instead.

OMG, we railed on her! We were so slap happy from the craziness of the trip, that Coach Hullabaloo starts joking with her about grabbing his butt, so then I embarass her further by going ghetto and telling her to get her paws off my man. There was about to be a cat fight. up. in. here! Players were making a circle around us - like I would really claw at her or something. Hello, I'm a Newcomb girl, really. I have a modicum of upbringing. It was so funny though.

Earlier in The Flight Home we told Matlock that these things happen in 3's and so hopefully 1. losing the game 2. his cell phone committing suicide and 3. losing his keys WERE IT and nothing worse would happen.

Well, no, it wasn't.

Up until Saturday, we had a lock on Coach Rod. So we thought. At first, when a Mountaineer Fan mentioned to me over the summer that Rich Rod would most likely be Tulane's next head coach, I thought he was nuts. But then I got a text at the UH game from a friend that I'll call SchmAl. SchmAl apparently heard from a former Greenie Dat coach that RichRod - who was up in the suites during the game - was accepting our offer. Yay, much jubilation in the Greenie Dat Nation ensued. It was a happy two weeks while contract details were being fined tuned and Tammy and the Mackel Twins remained in the dark not having a clue.

When we finally got home Saturday after Rice I start seeing some twittering that Arizona was now in the mix. WTH. So then it's a fierce gossip tree to try to sort this out all day Sunday. Sunday night we are confident that the Arizona thing was just a false rumor, everything is fine - Coach Rod was coming and an announcement was being planned for Tuesday. A friend whom I'll call Mayor has a son who went to AU. Mayor's son has another friend currently still in Tucson who works in a capacity close to the Wildcat athletics - he was told by the AU AD on Sunday that Rod accepted our offer and was headed to Nola for the Tuesday presser.

Well, how dumb were we not to see this one coming from the perennially-fickle Rich Rod: Arizona uped the ante, Rod accepted and their AD flew to Michigan before he could change his mind. Again.

The Doberge Conspiracy in Reverse.*

*for those not familiar with this famous story. In 1998 Coach Rod was lead to believe by Scott Cowen and Sandy Barbour up until the night before the press conference that the job was his. Except that overnight Sam Scelfo of Gambinos Bakeries talked Scott Cowen into hiring his brother Chris, a lowly OL coach at the time, instead. Voila The Doberge Conspiracy. At 6 am, Coach Rod shows up to the Wilson Center wearing a green jacket (where does one find a green jacket I ask?) and tie - only to read in the Times Picayune that Scelfo was being announced. He was literally left at the altar and humiliated.

So Coach Rod waited 13 years to stick it to Cowen, except that I am really pissed about this because in his quest for revenge and glory he stepped all over some very important members of the Greenie Dat Nation. And that would be the members of the 1998 Team whom I love dearly and who went full court press in rushing Rod to be our Coaching Messiah. Even going so far to coordinate sneaking Coach Rod via kitchen back doors and service elevators to elude the Mackel Twins attempt at trying to land their first story. Now Arizona fans are left scratching their heads wondering how the heck they got stuck with this choice and we are left emotionally bruised.

My final words on this and I'm over it. Coach Rod was tailor made for a comeback via CUSA and Tulane. He has the #1 recruiting ground at his disposal, a spread offense conference that would be a cinch to dominate, an easy schedule, and an adoring fan base that would have given him an enormous homecoming and an even lengthier honeymoon period.

But really, y'all I feel that whatever is supposed to happen is gonna happen and I have faith. I'm over him.

Really I am. Besides, how cute is this picture?


(a little league in Houston named themselves the Tulane Greenwave and they have a cheerleader. And they came to the game, it was cute.)

Oh the possibilities!

No I'm not talkin bout the Doberge Consiracy in reverse that was recently inflicted upon us.

This beauty is $99 at Rouse's and just screamin to be painted and bedazzled with TU flair.

Anyways, funny stories about our Rice weekend forthcoming. They'll turn your frown upside down. I promise!

Rice Rice Baby

A1A beachfront avenue! Ok....that doesn't quite work in this scenario, but whatever: Coach Hullabaloo and I are here in Houston with the team in our final mainland game of the Hutson-Toledo era. and Big News: we'll also be in Hawaii next week!

I'm preemptively writing now cuz we fly back today immediately after the game - literally they load us all up on the buses and zip straight to the airport. So I'll do a write up on Sunday since the Saints have a bye (just warning yous in advance cause y'all just race on to the webs and spike up the traffic here like a nano second after the game and I need some time to collect my thoughts).

Well it's a big day here in Houston regardless cause College Gameday is covering the SMU Houston game across town. Tis is a mini reunion of CUSA here in Houston. Hope Tulane brings it and we can therefor piggyback some media to counteract all of Tammy's bull the past few weeks. And all the blah blah about Old Man Keenum and his Cooters (aren't y'all like over it? a 40 year old up for the heisman! just kidding, he's not 40, but dernit I think I was still in college when he started playing).

And listen y'all what I want to counteract most: our woes this season are not cause we don't match up. No ma'am. Cuz after riding elevators with team members, our guys are most definitively "bigger, faster, stronger" (remember that ditty?). I was like WHOAH when I was standing next to them on the elevators. And the funniest thing was the plane ride. We took a Southwest charter and somehow the seating got bungled so instead of ample room allowing 2 to a row, everyone got crammed in side-by-side like sausages. To the flight attendant's credit, they did play our fight song over the speakers to get us riled up.

So it's almost time for kick off, so OccupyRice y'all! Let's finish strong!

Ice Hockey, Ice Hockey Hockey

Word. Tulane has a Division 3 Ice Hockey team. My next project! Squeal!

I just love, LOVE hockey. Well, in theory I love hockey. I don't like follow it professionally so don't call me out for being completely deficient in the hockey knowledge department.

I just heart trash talking, aggressive beat downs. So Hockey fits the New Orleans nature to a "T."

Coach and I used to geaux to the New Orleans Brass games when they occupied the New Orleans Arena. With all this dreariness of the NBA lockout I wish that they had just left the Brass alone. Much more fun, and the only drama was the performance on the court. It was awesome.

So I am rounding up a possee to hit the road to Decatur, Alabama for the last weekend in January to catch Tulane "Stick It" to Mississippi State.

Decatur appears to be near Huntsville, Alabama, so I shall double dip the trip and stop by Jim N Nick's Barbeque in Birmingham (sooo good!). Men's basketball is away that weekend, Women's basketball is off, so it's totally a win-win.

If you would like to support some smashmouth hockey - check em out here.

Alright, Alright, Alright

Yeah Yeah Yeah - I flaked out on posting. It was a work day Friday so sue me.

Anyways, I really didn't pay attention to the game after the first half with all of the commotion going on up in the suites and all. It's ALL anybody can talk about so I need not discuss it further until the souffle is totally baked.* And no, ain't takin about Mathieu's locker.

*(well, one small note - everybody's got "a source" and Comedian Al's is hilarious. He claims he is sleeping with a friend of you know who's daughter. You know who's daughter is 15, so this would make Al a dirty old man. The bottom line is this: I can't wait for this to be concluded so that we can all come out in the open and say for real who knew what, when and how. Because the only people who don't know what's up are the media and Tammy Fletcher they are acting like fools)

But listen, everything is gonna be Alright. Coach Hutson is up for the head coaching position at Eastern Illinois, we have great candidates up for our open position and Tammy Nunez got exposed for the fool that I knew she was all along.

So we had a great Tailgate/Going Away for one of our favorite tailgatresses whose hubby has landed his dream job in the NFL. Quite exciting and we are so proud of her and her family moving on up.

It was our Texan Burger tailgate and I spent Thursday in the kitchen making Jalapeno Popper Dip (!), Chipotle mayo, Sandra Lee's southwest burgers and Cowboy caviar. The cowboy caviar was ok, I wouldn't call it a kepper. But the Jalapeno Popper Dip was simply amazing - and it actually tasted like jalapeno poppers! So Easy.

Word. I've already posted the Jalepeno Popper Dip once, but it's so good that it deserves to be reposted twice, three times. Whatever it takes.

LIFE CHANGING JALAPENO POPPER DIP
2 packages of softened cream cheese, room temp
1 cup mayo (yeah. this is not a low cal dip)
1 cup grated parm cheese divided
1 can diced jalapenos drained
2 fresh jalapenos sliced, seeds/ribs removed
1/4 cup bread crumbs

Let cream cheese sit out til it's soft soft. Preheat oven to 375. Mix together with a cup of mayo and half cup parm cheese. OK, do not try to do this by hand because you will die. I was dumb enough to do that. Use a mixer if you own one. Fold in your fresh and canned jalapenos. Pour mixture into a baking dish and scrape every last morsel out of the mixing bowl (I used an aluminum one that fit into our chaffing dish stand). Mix bread crumbs and remainder of parm cheese together and then crumble over top of the delicious creaminess. Pop into the oven and bake for 20 minutes or so until the bread crumbs are browned. Serve warm at tailgating and stand back because it will be gone.

What was most definitely not alright was this (!)


Pictured here, anonymously, is Colonel Reb. Our favorite Ole Miss Tulane Fan. Yes, they exist. He grew up lovin The Wave, but did his schoolin up in Oxford. He is a trip. Last week at SMU (yes he travels to away games also, so we see him often) I ended up getting a sideline pass and gave it to Colonel Reb. We started doing well and so we made him stay down there on the sideline. He loved it loved it, because he got to hear up close and personal the Greenies start trash talking the Ponies.

So you can imagine my surprise when he showed up at tailgates with that in his hand (!). Anyways, his story is that one of the Greenbackers sent their son to pick up a case of beer for him to bring to tailgate and said son purchased these. Seriously. Colonel Reb will drink anything, so they told him to take some. Well when he got to Mrs. Hullabaloo's tailgate we covered that puppy up with a Tulane koozie lest it leave us permanently scarred for life. For sure.

This was so funny that I couldn't wait to report on it.


Apparently a Greenie Dat is friends with a Cooter and they tried to sit near us in our section at some point in the first half. The Cooters scored and he jumped up and down and started hootin and hollerin like this was the first time he'd seen a touchdown. Coach Hullabaloo was livid. Peggy started wondering aloud who this fool was. So I decided to take the direct approach:

Cooter Fan: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! That's what I'm talkin about!!!

Mrs. Hullabaloo: Hey! Hey! Hey You! (finally getting Cooter Fan's attention) When's your next workout video coming out?

Cooter Fan: What?

Coach Hullabalo: Yeah! Richard Simmons called and he wants his headband back!

It was hilarious. Look at Coach Hullabaloo acting sassy! Surpised the heck out of me. Peggy was still laughing to herself well into the third quarter over the headband comment. Cooter Fan tucked his tail between his legs and took off. But not before I snapped this picture of him silenced and his friend snickering at him.

After Cooter Fool had left, Peggy and I were miming "He's a Maniac! Maniac! on the floo-oor" .... He's a Cooter Town Fool on a Thursday night, looking for the fight of his life.. In the real time world, no one sees him at all ...They all say he's craa-zy..." Ok anybody not of the Flashdance Era will not get this Michael Sambella ditty.

Yes we were immature, but sooooooo worth it.

You know what else was worth it? Screaming to the ref who called an unsportsman-like or excessive hit or whatever penalty that was that spotted the Cooters yet another touchdown. It was quelle bull. Definitively. Earlier in the game a ref got taken out ice cold and wheeled off in a stretcher. I kept yelling that this other bogus ref needed to be taken out on a stretcher also. Cause it was pitiful.

Anyways, with the appearance of UTFM - I decided to social butterfly amongst my Greenie Dat peeps. I took this cute video of the Shockwave Dancers.



I just loved the little future shockwave dancer trying to imitate them! Chickadee's Newcomb little sister is a member of Shockwave, so I was glad to have some shots of her. The TU Brass Band is one of my favorite game day traditions.

Next to this one.


Isn't this cool? Will make me miss the dome when we move the games back to campus....

Gameday and we're messin with Keenum

Third Q Mo

This Wave Momma was a trip! She got up and started hollering "Trent! Bring Me That Ball!" or "Come on Defense!! Give Me Seven!!!!"

And then Dominique Robertson got that very exciting fumble touchdown! Which started our Third Quarter Mo. So we have Wave Momma here to thank.

One of the gems she quipped was to Ryan Griffin: "The Pocket Is NOT Your Friend!"

To all our unsportsmanlike penalties, she started screaming: "That's all right! We'll take that flag! You ain't seen unsportsmanlike! It shows some passion! Shows that you care! Hell I wish I had a flag!"

Amen!

So my regrets:

I do regret that this transformation hadn't taken place during the first half, because then it woulda been a different game.

I also regret that the Refs spotted SMU a touchdown, the guy was clearly out at the 1 yard line.

I regret that Big Mike and the Greenbackers weren't there to properly orchestrate The Hullabaloo, because the cheerleaders, adorable as they are, somehow got lost and neglected the leading part of cheerleading. And I seriously had to straighten them out when some of them dared to think out loud at tailgating about rooting for not Alabama. If I had been wearing pearls I woulda clutched them.

Tulane cheerleaders. Talking openly. About rooting for not Alabama. In Mrs. Hullabaloo's opinion: It was very unfortunate. (and one word about The Game Of The Century. Quelle Lame-ness, ok, well two words. But it was in one word: Lame).

And then my final regret: when Coach and I were wandering around trying to locate the Tulane tailgating which had been banished to the opposite side of campus, we ran across some tres "colorful," shall we say, boulevarding happening on the SMU boulevard. and I regret not having snapped a few shots of what we saw.

Firsties: some of the SMU cheerleaders (thank you sweet baby jesus this doesn't happen with us) were smoking cigarettes with their non-cheerleader peeps. Yes. In uniform. Well, not completely in uniform - their hair and make-up was did and they had the skirts on, but white t-shirts on. So I don't know if they were off duty or what, but the big obnoxious hair bows, skirts and cheerleading sneakers with the little socks it is quite obvious they weren't just the garden variety trashy boulevard'ers we encoutered.

And then apparently the theme of the SMU Boulevarding this weekend was to turn it into Bourbon Street, cause we saw some of the SMU co-ed's wearing those Beer helmet thingies. You know the those helmets that have can holders and there's straws that loop down to your face? Yes, soo classy! Very "Park Cities" ...but wait! there's more. This genius contraption allowed them to carry yard-sized hurricane glasses.

Oh how I wished I had captured these moments for posterity. Because while, I am far from one to look at co-ed's sideways for having a good time, I am ever thankful that our NY and Southern ladies at Tulane have decided to pass on this apparent SMU fashion trend of accessorizing with these acutrements. In public. At tailgating.

Anyways, we are weeks away from finding out our coaching destiny and I can't wait for that!

Bye Bye to Big Hair and Boulevarding

We've arrived!

In the Big D, for the final Greenie Dat Boulevarding. E-vah. Now that SMU's headed to the Big Least. Bye Bye Now! Apparenlty we are no longer "attached at the hip"

We got a hip replacement. Yay!

Honestly, I don't know how or why TPTB decided that we needed to be figuratively attached to SMU. I'm clearly not shedding a tear over this. I see nothing similar in our schools. Starting with that usually people who don't get into Tulane, get in to SMU and settle on going to SMU. And then the biggie: they don't even have baseball. (WHO in NCAA doesn't have baseball?! In Mrs. Hullabaloo's world I categorize as follows 1. Football G-d and Family 2. Football 3. Baseball and a distant 4. Basketball)

SMU never felt like a rivalry. Like we merely tolerated each other's presence. If we beat them, which was like always, it never felt like a big win. We gave away the last two games which we should have wrapped up and won. But I digress.

Now USM. That's a heated rivalry. We are polar opposites and the rivalry still works.

Anyways, this conference shuffle has been quite interesante and I hope someday to be able to share the nitty gritty which has transpired since the stories have been leaking. But the muffin isn't baked yet, so I can't take it out of the oven. The sad thing in all this though is how random things shake out in the conference thing. Nobody wants USM, but WVU belongs in the SEC? lawd. I spent much time in Morgantown and that place and them peoples is just not SEC material. By any stretch.

My friend Tyrone Powers had this to say, and so I am sharing it with you:

..."So about USM. I really feel for my Mustard Buzzards. They are stuck in a small town with absolutely no TV market and their home city isn't exactly a tourist destination. They have a team that can easily compete with the lower echelon in the SEC, and probably the upper echelon of the Big East. But sadly they can bring nothing to the table. The SEC doesn't want them because of State and Ole Miss. Tulane has a market AND a city that people want to go to....

The Rock is a great place to play and can be quite difficult to play in, but that's not nearly enough to get an invite to a big conference. Plus their minor sports, with the exception of baseball, are very weak. They may have to stick it out with Rice, UAB and the other CUSA schools with a merger with Mountain West. Its sad because they really could be conference contenders in any other conference."

Agreed.

So, SMU goes, USM stays. and Saturday we get to Boulevard for one last hurrah. I hope we leave with a bang. Because HOW could we ever top this? (I say this with much sarcasm by the way)