You Can Never Have Enough

I was on facebook this morning and the ad for ModCloth, just called my name! Just LOOK at this treasure trove of adorable-ness for gameday outfits and homecoming apparel. (click on the links to purchase)

Worth the expense at ModCloth.

Between the outfits you need for The Hullabaloo Auction and Party, Tailgating and then perhaps a costume change for the game, you have to start scouting these things months and months ahead. Mark my words: you can NEVER have enough adorable olive and blue outfits. Between Football, baseball, and now basketball - being fashionably prepared is like half the battle.

So happy shopping!


Don't look at the price tag, just buy them. At ModCloth


$64.99 from ModCloth

$49.99 from ModCloth


$47.99 from ModCloth

I'd Like to Thank The Academy

Y'all we are gonna have an on campus stadium.

Excuse me for being a little speechless on the matter. I give all of you the unvarnished truth, whether it's funny, sad or whatnot. I hope you appreciate that.

I've been vascillating between being just beyond incensed from Monday's presser - which was horrid by any measure. If you can believe it, I was actually crying to Coach Hullabaloo about it. Yes, girls cry - so sue me. I even asked third parties to intervene and walk me off the ledge for my thoughts. Because my Greenie Dat World was literally crashing down around me.

And then I went on to being disappointed to hear that the new stadium was indeed going to be 25k seats with 5k in standing room only area - I've well documented my feelings about that.

To now being mildly excited about what I am christening as Fergie Field (ok, yes this is in my mind, but I've suffered enough for the past 20 years and I've hostessed my fair share of tailgating parties to have earned naming rights, so there.)

So here they are, the renderings of Fergie Field. I never thought I'd live to see the day.

If you can see, it's got the old checkered endzones like the old Tulane Stadium and they are gonna put back up the same Tulane medallion that used to face Willow Street.


I don't think anybody can fault "Naysayers" for being peversely upset about how things rolled out. What breaks my heart is that there are some fans who reacted in the opposite manner to all of the announcements who were in serious need of attitude adjustment in the "let's agree to disagree" arena. Hand to Yahweh, there's not a Tulane fan out there that I could honestly ever conceive to say I "hate." The thought would never enter my mind or my vocabulary. Because at the end of the day Mrs. Hullabaloo cherishes comraderie, festive dishes served between parking spaces and what is best for the Olive and Blue. and I'm not going to apologize for having my own opinions, nor should anybody else.

Now, today's presser was about a 150 degree turnaround from Monday. -Sigh - our Athletic Director continued to channel his inner Don Johnson/Donnie Deutsch (what's up with this new tie-less look) and soap box about Katrina, which has so been worn out it can't be worn out any further. But what made me feel 10000% better is that Scott Cowen came out, in front of television cameras and the press that he and the board are going to finally stick to their promises about funding, academic concessions and support for the football program. I swear I thought the heavens were gonna part and the angels sing. So there. Now it's on record and video taped by the news. Can now be admissible as evidence in a court of law.

The biggest beef Mrs. Hullabaloo had about the coaching search is that if Scott Cowen was going to continue with his head in the sand (which Katrina or not, he's been doing since he passed over Rich Rodriguez 13 years ago) we needed an A+ strategic thinker as our Coaching Messiah to fight tooth and nail for our Olive and Blue. If any of you saw Moneyball the movie, you'll know that this scene with Stephen Schott and Billy Beane arguing about the budget for the Oakland A's, could have been easily rescripted with Schott Cowen and [insert name of Coach here].


Coach CJ was a little mayberry and to those of us who have stood by this team through all of the suckage that has been Tulane Football since 19whatever - it was an alarming portent of the pending disaster that could ensue should everything else in Gibson Hall and Willow Street remain constant.

Well today, thank you Sweet Baby Jesus, the board members behind the 2003 review took a break from their Porche Driver's Club meetings (did you see all the porches in Rosen Parking lot at the announcement today?) to actually attend a Tulane atheltics function, show their faces and at least intimate that they weren't gonna pull another review on us after going to a Bowl game.

And so, in conclusion, I can finally take a break from always expecting the worst and finally concentrate on the most important issues at hand: strategizing on what we need to do to get Peggy's Patio officially sanctioned....

and that will make my joy complete.

Roll Wave y'all!

Ignorant Fan? Why, I'm Flattered!!

Very exciting! Mrs. Hullabaloo gets called out! By none other than Coach Sean Payton!

Oh I'm famous, my very first news bit! I shoulda had a sign or something, No? I'm thinking Like ESPN College Gameday.... Waved to the camera, maybe? No? Too much?

This was all quite unexpected. I hadn't yet committed to a spot in the room so I am still surveying. And of all the Greenie Dats, who gets caught in video footage during Coach Payton's tirade about ignorant fans? Moi! Yes! Me! kiss kiss to all the Greenie Dats out there!*

During this bit we're being instructed by Messieur Payton that there have been exactly two good decisions at Tulane: Matt Forte and Coach Curtis Johnson.

Anyways, I have to disagree with Coach Payton though. (Yes, I'm a heretic in addition to being a poster child for ignorance. I wear many hats!)

I think that Homecoming at Champions Square was an exceptional decision. The uniforms introduced under Coach Toledo: awesome. The fireworks intro for the team: amazing. Switching the regular season tailgates from the Bud Bridge out to Gate G: excellent. So there, that's at least 4 additional examples of good decisions. But who am I to nit pick? Picky is sooo passee.

What I want to know, however, is if you have a favorite decision from the Scelfo-Toledo-Hutson era....please let me know yours!

And y'all - I have to say that I can't wait to put on all the bells and whistles and give Coach Payton my most esteemed welcome to his first o-fficial Tulane kick off sometime during the Coach "CuJo" Johnson Era. Cuz call me crazy, in 6 years I have yet to hear about a SP cameo at a Tulane game and if y'all know anything about Mrs. Hullabaloo: I have my pulse on everything Olive and Blue. Maybe I'll extend an invite to come enjoy a plate at our tailgates - how exciting! And then Coach Hullabaloo can meet his twin. (remind me to share with you sometime about how Coach Hullabaloo was constantly getting identified in public by passers by as SP during the 2006 season, because some of the stories are truly hysterical!).

*PS you know who did this segment and I just have to guess that Mrs. Hullabaloo being captured during Coach Payton's discertation on ignorant fans as more than just mere cosmic coincidence. Just saying! But I'm not too above it to milk this moment!

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.)