Before I sink back into my natural state of deep wolven depression, I wanted to express my sincere thanks to the players and coaches who made the wild ride of this past season possible. It came with its bumps and bruises, fits and starts, but perhaps most importantly for a program that had staggered blindly in the wilderness for so very long – we learned how to love again. That’s the first prong of why last night hurt so much, we really loved this bunch of wolves.
So thank you, one and all. From MG to Power Kitty, Angel of Death to Almond Joy. Best wishes to Desmond Lee and Black Scott Wood (aka Ralston Turner) in your future life endeavors, and we hope you always stay connected to the wolven family.
We still have two years in this contention window. But of course, all caveats apply. The best laid plans of mice and men, yada yada. That’s the second prong the pain – tomorrow may never come. You might get drawn into the region of death. You might have Murray State 1988 happen. Somebody might break a leg in the ACCT. Anytime a wormhole opens, and the run ends…it leaves a mark. But make no mistake. We went down fighting, and have nothing to be ashamed about. We now have to trust this same group who taught us to love again, that they can fight, claw, scratch, and open more wormholes. Maybe for a change this won’t be as final as it feels today. Give them a chance to prove our Charlie Brown life experiences wrong.