Nolan Richardson was snowed in last night. And while I really am glad that he was unable to show for that embarrasment last night, a little part of me really deep down inside wanted to see him there.

Because it was eery and disdainful enough watching highlights of one of the greatest teams in college history win a title in 1994, but knowing that Mike Anderson had this game circled for about four years was almost as depressing as the riveting action on the floor...

Such as Sean McCurdy kicking the ball around and picking up his dribble at half court, Vincent "skin and bones" Hunter (the scary part is that, I swear to god, he has put on at least 50 lbs of muscle since high school) lurching back and forth across the floor throwing balls into the crowd, Steven Hill flipping his hair and trimming his crusty handlebar 'stache as he flails wildly at balls on defense AND offense and Darian mother freakin Townes whining uncontrollably all night on the floor because his pussy hurt him too bad trying to break a press (they finally started using a press breaker that my team ran in junior high late in the second half. Yes, late in the second half).

Now that's entertainment.

While the bar area in the Chili's I was at in Little Rock closes at 11 or something like that, I wish it would've closed in the ballpark of about 9 p.m. Therefore, I wouldn't have seen some lame ass white boy nail about 500 threes while standing wide open in the corner and Ben Lindsey jumping up and down while unfolding chairs on the Mizzou bench. I should've just taken my lame ass back down the road to my favorite bar and yelled obscenities at people all night. Because that is what I always do when Stan Heath enrages me.

Look, I want to like this guy. And he seems like such a good recruiter, but McGowan and McCurdy (having two Mc's in a recruiting class is probably a problem) look like they haven't been coached since junior high. Which is interesting in and of itself considering that little Sean was coached in high school by one of the most respected coaches in the nation at that level. But he's pathetic. He's a cancer when he steps out on the floor just like Vincent Hunter.

When Heath put Hunter and McCurdy on the floor at the same time, I quickly poured myself a shot of tequila with the house liquor. Jesus Christ, that went down in a vicious manner but it still took better than the clusterfuck on the nearby TV screen. Hunter and McCurdy looked as if they were putting on a tard basketball clinic... and doing it very well.

But let's be realistic. Four games in six days is a lot, even for an NBA team. And facing a team with Anderson's "40 minutes of hell" style at the end of that run truly is hell. But that still doesn't change the fact that we will struggle to win 20 games and stay around .500 in SEC play. Maybe we'll get hot in the conference tournament and earn a bid to get smacked down by a true basketball power like Butler or Creighton in the first round. Or maybe Oral Bob can beat us at home in the NIT. If Stan decides we can play in it.

That shit just isn't going to cut it at Arkansas. I'm waiting for the basketball version of the Citadel incident now.

So long, Stan. I hardly knew ye.