Whose Number One?*

Whose number one? Our number one, of course. Number one what? Number one Division I volleyball team. Well, who is number one? The past week featured losses by Nebraska (0-3 to Texas) and Stanford (1-3) to USC, which were sure to stir things up. Sure enough, the rankings came out and the decision was un-unanimous:

RichKern.com Poll = Nebraska
RKPI = Stanford
ACVA Coaches Poll = Penn State
Pablo = Nebraska
(A)rfda!s Dead Dog’s Poll = Washington

Let’s examine these rankings in more detail, shall we? Oh, yes, we shall. I may even gripe about them. After all, it’s my blog and I’ll cry if I want to.

Right off the bat, we’re tempted to throw out the dead dog’s poll (lack of emphasis mine). His blatant bias for all things canine would be laughable if there weren’t so many people out there taking him seriously. On the other hand, it gives us a fourth team to talk about and variety is always good -- except perhaps in Dick Cheney’s Chamber of Doom.

The most exciting ranking of the week is, without a doubt, the AVCA poll. Exciting, that is, in the way that Consumer Satisfaction Surveys can be thrilling to a very, very narrow segment of the population. Four teams split the 60 first-place votes this week, with the Nittany Lions edging out the Cornhuskers 26-25. In addition, Texas (with 5 votes) and Washington (with 4 votes) were the favorites of the remaining coaches. The result of all this collective dithering was that the Penn Staters also squeaked by the Nebraskateers in total points, 1455 to 1444, and were thus awarded the #1 ranking and all the parting gifts which come with it. Five teams are now within 220 points of that #1 ranking, however -- by far the closest bunching of the year. To top that off, #7 through #10 are separated by less than 100 points.

“That guy Pablo on Rich Kern’s website” has crunched his numbers (the Pablo Ranking) and concluded that Nebraska and Texas, separated by a mere 50 points, are the crème de la crème, or, as we put it in the good ol’ USA, the pick of the mother cat’s offspring. Washington, Stanford and Penn State are also in the general neighborhood, while USC appears to have been placed in a different zip code area altogether. Take it up with Pablo, Mick.

Then there’s that Rich Kern on Rich Kern’s website whose faux RPI, the RKPI, has spat out The Cardinal as the #1 team in the land. It’s heady stuff, but if you have the subscription and the time here’s the link where he shows his work. Personally, I think he forgot to carry the “2”, but whatever.

http://www.richkern.com/vb/rankings/TeamSheet.asp?Div=DI&VBYear=2007&abbr=stan

Also at Rich Kern’s website is the RichKern.com Poll, compiled from the rankings of up to 14 volleyball fans from around the country. This would-be People's Poll also has Nebraska as #1.

Last, and definitely least, is the aforementioned Dead Dog’s Poll, which is based on whether or not the team mascot is some sort of dog. Washington comes in at #1 this week. Take it up with (A)rfda!, Mick.

So what does this all mean? I wish I knew. I’m just giving you the facts, ma’am, just the facts. You want meaning? Wander on over to my What’s It All About, (A)rfda! blog.




*Ha! Betcha thought I made a mistacke!

The Anti-Santa

Events of the past few weeks have brought to mind my father’s unique sense of humor. He was always one to find the humor where you would swear there was none. I was certainly never able to pull it off. There was the story about his first date with my mother. He went to the apartment she shared with my grandmother and said my Nana was busy in the bathroom, bashing the tiny heads of baby guinea pigs on the side of the tub, then flushing them down the toilet. Just imagine the silence when I told that story in my 7th grade English class. Yet he could tell that story and make it hilarious. It all had to do with the delivery, capturing his perspective, I guess.

I bring this up because one of his best creations was the Anti-Santa, pronounced Anta-Santa. This skinny, bald guy, we were told, came through the front door, gathered up all the presents intended for children who had proven unworthy of the bounty, and went up the chimney, crying “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Sometimes he’d take the stuff out of your stockings, too.

Anyhow, I think the Anti-Santa’s been screwing around with my life lately. Thing is, I don’t know what I did to tick him off. We’re talking seven straight matches here. You’d think I’d been selling puppies to the University’s Medical Research Center or messing around with Ann Coulter. Yes, I could have said nicer things about the Dayton Flyers and the Duke Blue Devils, but top 20!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

I’m stumped. Really I am. All I ask, Dear Anti-Santa, is for you to go ahead and take my two front teeth if you want them. Just let them win another match or two, please. And soon?

Dearest Sister

Dearest sister,

Having just perused your missive of the 12th, I am responding with haste to assure you that I am in good health and relatively good spirits. The upset stomach with which I was contending still plagues me and restricts my travels, but I am sure it will pass, and with its passing shall come more freedom. I hope that this letter finds you well and that the boil is no longer such a distraction.

The season drags on. I fear I will be haunted by the sharp whistles, sneaker squeaks and high-pitched screams for the rest of my days. I will not speak of the true horror I have witnessed; it is not for one with as gentle a nature as you. However, I will say that the Harmotto Debacle truly made me want to hurl my Ho-Hos. Nittany Lions, my ass! More like the Nittany Cheetahs!

Doc has warned me not to dwell on such things. The blood pressure has reached new highs, as the belly reaches new lows. Shall we speak of happier events? We both know that for every bee sting there is honey being spread on some child’s zweiback. Or wheat thins. Or carrots. There are some weird children out there. So what brings light into my otherwise bleak existence? Well, Ho-Hos, of course. Unhurled Ho-Hos, that is. And superbly played volleyball, such as was played in Madison last weekend (notwithstanding the Harmotto Kerfuffle), and such as is being played in any Pac10 gym you might wander into. Oh, to be living in that land of plenty instead of this lifeless and wretched tundra of inferior volleyball!

The days pass ever so slowly and with them my desire to return to my family grows stronger. Except for that little cur of a brother! And Aunt Tilda, of course. Some days I doubt I will ever lay eyes on any of you again. Some days I seriously think of turning to the bottle for solace. Some days I just go to the Pavilion and yell at the refs or Mark Rosen.

Lastly, it is with great regret I must inform you that cousin Jimmy will not be coming home. I told him to pay attention during warmups, but would he listen? I will spare you the details except to say they aren't going to use that ball again.

Your loving brother,

(R)

Metagophersis II

Saturday night's dreams were again of the anxious variety, but what could be worse than turning into a monstrous verminous bug, as was my fate last weekend? I'll tell you what's worse: waking up with another monstrous verminous bug lying beside you.

"Mrs. (R)?" I whispered. "Is that you?"

"Not exactly," was the reply. "It's me. Luke."

This qualifies as a new low, as does the Gophers current five match losing streak. The kids somehow managed only four kills in their opening game against Northwestern, and went on to lose 17-15 in the 5th. They topped that the next night in East Lansing, losing 30-28, 35-33, 30-22, with the Spartans going all Ted Williams on them, hitting .400 for the match.

This is when a fan's loyalty meets its sternest test. The gale force winds shake and bend the tree you planted long ago in their honor. Even the nut-slinging squirrels have taken shelter elsewhere. But you know what? The next day, that tree is still there. And there will be matches this coming weekend. Penn State -- thanks a lot, God -- and The Ohio State. We will be there.

Firm and strong, united are we. Rah, rah, rah for ski-u-mah. Cheer for the U of M.

M - I - N - N - E - S - O - T - A!

Minnesota!

Minnesota!

Yaaaaaaaaaay, Gophers!

Now, if you'll pardon me. I need to do something about this dog and find out where my wife went.

Husker/Wahine Trivia

Hawai’i. Nebraska. The showdown looms like a really big thing in your backward would loom if you had a really big thing in your backyard. Or room for it in your backyard. And you happened to notice it. Because something can’t really loom if there’s no one there to catch it in the act of looming.

Nebraska. Hawai’i. A clash of cultures. A study in contrasts. A really, really good volleyball team and a good one, maybe. What better time to haul out the Is it Nebraska or is it Hawai’i? game? Perhaps you were hoping we’d save it for the Apocalypse? Well, maybe we did. That’s all we’re saying.


Is it Nebraska or is it Hawai’i?


1) This state’s quarter features a covered wagon and Chimney Rock. (The other state will have the last state quarter, not yet minted.)

2) Produces more than 1/3 of the world’s pineapples and will probably have one on its quarter, when it is minted.

3) This state does not have a state quarter yet.

4) This state claims its very own Edwin Perkins invented Kool-Aid, in 1927.

5) Has the fewest overweight people in the United States. See question 4.

6) Birthplace of the Reuben sandwich. See question 4.

7) Has its own time zone. This was also the runner up for the state's motto.

8) Has more miles of river than any other state.

9) Niihau, Kauai, Oahu, Maui, Molokai, Lanai, Kahoolawe and the Big Island of Hawaii are its 9 islands. Grand is not one of them.

10) Has the highest percentage of women in the workforce of any state.

11) Marlon Brando’s mom gave Henry Fonda acting lessons here. See question 10.

12) Has the world’s largest wind generator.

13) Widest of all the states. Trick question and has nothing to do with question 5.

14) One of its colleges offered the world’s first course on Rush Limbaugh. See question 12.

15) Humuhumunukunukuapua`a is the state fish. See question 17.

16) Has the world’s largest porch swing, which can hold 25 adults. See question 5, then ignore it. It's a trick.

17) There are only 12 letters in its alphabet. Think if you've ever heard of anyone speaking "Nebraskan."

18) The wind blows east to west in this state. Has nothing to do with question 12, although it is the same state. Wind generator had to be turned around.

19) The state insect is the honeybee. But where have they all gone?

20) John Cook keeps his ego here. Gratuitous cheapshot. We apologize. In advance.

21) The only state that grows coffee.

22) Home to the world’s 2nd largest collection of ancient elephant fossils. Careful! We said ancient elephant fossils.


The correct answers are b, c, three, and Charlie Wade. Please come back and play again, after the Apocalypse. It’ll cheer you up a little.

Metagophersis

Monday morning, when I woke from anxious dreams, I discovered that while I slept I had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug. How Kafkaesque, I said to myself. No, that is Kafka, I replied to myself. How plagiaristic would be the phrase you’re looking for. What was with the attitude? Shut up! I said to myself. Make me! I snapped back. Things threatened to turn ugly, although not nearly as ugly as some other things, such as monstrous verminous bugs, for instance.

I rolled out of bed and landed on my tiny feet, all three pairs of them. Normally, I would probably have run screaming down the hall as fast as my mini-legs could carry me, frightening the wife and daughters, and totally messing with the cats’ fragile psyches. But as incidents of the past few days went, waking up as a cockroach just seemed like more of the same. It was unpleasant, to be sure, it just wasn’t that big of a deal. It certainly wasn’t the most unpleasant event of the weekend. That dubious honor belongs to the Gopher volleyball matches I had attended.

So, while I ponder what to wear to work today -- what goes with a hard reddish-brown shell and antennae anyhow? -- let’s review the weekend.

The Big Bad Badgers from East Minnesota came to town Friday night and there was every reason to believe the Gophers were ready for them: the Badgers were 6-0, tied for first place with the Knittin’ Lions, and the Gophs were 5-1. Here was their chance to re-enter the Big10 title chase. Sure, Jessy Jones was still hobbled and not even a definite to play, but this was Minnesota’s home court and they had dispatched the Badgers with relative ease in 2006.

Game One looked promising. The Badgers started off slowly, trailing 7-3 and 9-5. They managed to close that gap, however, and even led by four several times themselves, the last time at 24-20. It was now the Gophers turn to gnaw away at that lead. A kill and a block by the formidable Kyla Roehrig brought them to 23-24. Two more kills and another block by Roehrig, plus a kill on two by Jones (who did play, albeit at far less than 100%), put them back in the lead at 28-27. Coach Waite called his second timeout, the Pavilion was rocking, and Life looked like puppies frolicking in the summer sunshine. Following Audra Jeffers’ first-ball sideout in the middle, Rachelle Hagerty’s tip blocked by Jeffers and Jackie Simpson, and an ace by Brittney Dolgner, Life seemed more like puppies frolicking on I-94.

Game Two was not very close. The Gophers scored three points at the very end to make it respectable, but it was still a 30-26 loss and they trailed 2-0 at the break. Game Three, on the other hand, was extremely close up until 20 all. Unfortunately, the Badgers kept scoring a point here and there, and slowly pulled away to a 30-25 win and the sweep.

This was a disappointing result to be sure, but not totally unexpected. Wisconsin is a veteran club and Jones was not at her best. I managed to sleep decently and I woke up as myself. Not that that’s anything to be excited about, but it’s certainly better than waking up as a member of the Blattidae family.

Illinois was up next, Saturday night. I’m not going to bother with the repulsive details here. Let’s just say the Gophs were thoroughly DeBrulered, including a game four meltdown that should have had Al Gore zipping in from Greenland to empathize with our plight.
And now, to top it all off, I’m a cockroach. The Gophers are 5-3 in the Big10 and I’m a hideous bug. Great. Just great.

Howling

I have decided to have this so-called Luke put down. I know he is already dead, but obviously he needs another shot. Possibly a higher dose even. I contemplated re-enacting that terrible scene in Lassie Gets Snuffed when the old girl came down with rabies and Timmy had to blow her away with his Dad’s shotgun. Or maybe that was Old Yeller. I don’t own a shotgun, however. Regardless, Luke and (Arf)da!’s blogs will come to an end. I can’t have this mutt making volleyball prognostications in my blog. I just can’t.

Speaking of Luke -- the real Luke, that is -- when he was older, with his hearing all but gone, and he seemed to float around the house in a bubble of his own flatulence, I would often come home to find him splayed on the dining room table, howling up a storm. I have no idea what he was complaining about, assuming he was even complaining, but I’ve always thought he was no longer willing to suffer the slings and arrows of his own outrageous fortune, and was telling the world to back off. Chances are, he was just hungry, but I’ll believe what I want to believe.

Anyhow, that Luke will be my role model for a series of periodic, curmudegeonly blogs which I have decided to call


Howling While Splayed on the Dining Room Table


You might wonder how these blogs differ from the Pet Peeves blogs. Well, that’s like asking what’s the difference between a rainy day and a monsoon. I will only ascend to the dining room table, spread-out, and howl like hell when I am seriously worked up about something. Picture BarefootInKailua’s state of mind when he went bonkers a few years back about the Selection Committee. BiK was on the dining room table. I’m pretty sure there was plenty of flatulence involved, too.

So what’s got my goat today? Well, oddly enough, somebody has literally taken my goat. He was just in the backyard a couple of seconds ago, cutting the grass, and now he’s gone. So I have that to deal with, but what’s figuratively gotten my goat is that damned AVCA poll. The New Mexico Prickly State Aggies are ranked #20 this week. That’s at least 4 spots too low for this fine team in my book, but beyond that I’ve done the math on their ranking. If all 60 voters had at least placed the Aggies at #20, the team would have 360 points. They have 338. What are the implications here? Let’s say 50 voters did put them at #20. That’s 300 points. This means the other 10 voters would have had to average just under a #22 placement for the team to total 338 points! This, my friends, is an outrage. And someone shall be held accountable!

The question is who? Since I don’t have access to the voting records (although I am working on that), I am left with no choice except to pick one AVCA voter, at random, and read him or her the riot act. I have decided to exclude the alternates since they already have to live with the shame of not being a regular voter -- what do they say to their parents? I have decided instead to ask a co-worker to pick a number between 1 and 60. Hold on. I’ll ask Tom.

Tom picked 57. And voter 57 in the alphabetical AVCA list is – drumroll, please -- Deanne Webb of Belmont!

First, let’s check out their website for some background on Deanne. Hmmm. Belmont is currently 14-6 overall, and 4-1 in the Atlantic Sun Conference. Not too shabby. The Bruins’, for they are indeed the Belmont Bruins, most recent match was a 3-0 win over Stetson, on October 6th. Checking the boxscore, we see they were sparked by Jaye Schuler and setter Colleen Nilson, who both hit .357. Colleen added 37 assists. From a review of the team stats, we must toss Jaye some additional props for her .400+ hitting percentage on the year.

Now, then. We turn our attention to our random scapegoat, Coach Webb. What sort of resume does Deanne have, anyhow? Let’s read the bio. Well, here’s a bit of irony. It turns out the coach is Deane Webb, not Deanne Webb as listed at the AVCA site.

Man. That sucks the wind right out of my Balloon of Wrath. Pffffffffffth, you might say, if you were attempting to mimic a Balloon of Wrath having its wind sucked out. How can I come down on a guy who is listed as a woman on the AVCA voter roster? I can’t, that’s what.

Nothing to be done but to climb down from the table and find something else to do. We’ll try again next week.

Hey, Deane! Keep up the good work -- and e-mail the AVCA. Better yet, climb on up on the dining room table and let 'em have it!

(Arf)da!’s VolleyTalk Pick the Winners Contest Cheat Sheet

You can rely on Pablo or you can trust a dead dog. It’s your choice. Personally, it reminds me a little of the story of John Henry’s hammer. You know the one. Railroad worker versus steam hammer? Never mind that JHen dies in his triumph over the soulless machine. I’m already dead.

So, let’s pick ‘em!

*Florida over Arkansas. No brainer.
*Wichita State over Creighton. Careful with this one! Those Bluejays are not to be trifled with. Those Bluejays are not the team with whom one trifles. Whatever.
*Wisconsin over Minnesota. (R)uffda! disagrees with me, but I say the Gophers can’t beat the Badgers without Jones.
*New Mexico over San Diego State. Let me just tell you, however, that the Mountain West Conference follows no rhyme nor any reason.
*Long Beach State over Pacific. BeeGee retires if the 49ers lose this one.
*Penn State over Michigan. BeeGee retires if the Lions lose this one.
*Princeton over Yale. Nothing like a little Ivy League volleyball to excite this old dog.
*Santa Clara over St. Marys. The Broncos are unpredictable.
*Stanford over Washington. I always hate not picking the dogs, but I’m afraid the Robber Baron’s lasses don’t lose in the Pac10 this year.
*USC over Oregon. I know there are many fans out there who think the Ducks win this one. I say USC treats them like rubber duckies in their tub.
*BYU over Utah. Who knows? Stupid MWC!
*Creighton over Missouri State. The Bluejays will not lose both this weekend.
*Duke over Clemson. Duke struggled against UNC. The Tigers could pull an upset. But they won’t.
*Middle Tennessee over Florida International. I was thinking about making this my upset special. Maybe next time.
*Wisconsin over Iowa. Take this one to the bank.
*Iowa State over Kansas State. The Cyclones win at home.
*San Diego over Loyola Marymount. The Toreros need to rebound.
*UNLV over New Mexico. Stupid MWC!
*Ohio State over Michigan. This is the upset special I decided upon. Upon which I decided. You’re welcome.
*Texas A&M over Colorado. Aggies. Aggies. Aggies.
*UC Santa Barbara over UC Riverside. Kathy scares me. I’m guessing she’ll give the Highlanders the heebie-jeebies.
*UCLA over Oregon. Tough weekend for the Ducks.
*Alabama over Georgia. Yee-haw!
*Notre Dame over Syracuse. I had a crush on an Irish setter once.

(Arf)da!'s Blog

Luke here. But you can call me (Arf)da! if you want. I plan to start posting over at VolleyTalk under that monica (© Jewel 2000) in the near future. Now that the Big R has taken his keyboard and gone home, I figure that’s what we’ll rename this blog: (Arf)da!’s Dead Dog Volleyball Blog. It’s fetchy. As the poodle down the street used to say, it has a certain je nais sais quoi. At least, she used to say it before she was hit by that Buick. Now she just does a lot of cussing about Buicks.

Since I started blogging here, people have been asking me who’s my favorite team. Personally, I find it rather annoying. I blog because I don’t want anything to do with hobnobbing with riffraff, and now I have these clueless rubes coming up to me and asking me questions like who’s my favorite team and how can I blog if I’m a dog and how can I blog if I’m a dead dog. It makes me want to sink my teeth into their legs, to tell you the truth.

But the fact is I do have some favorite teams. I know most of the dog-haters out there -- I’m talking to YOU, (R)uffdork! -- are going to think I’m so unsophisticated that I’m only pulling for the Bulldogs or Lady Bulldogs (all thirteen of them), the Great Danes, Greyhounds, Wolfpack, or Huskies. The Red Foxes, Terriers, Seawolves, Retrievers, or Wolverines. Not true. Not even the Salukis are automatically granted my undying allegiance. I don’t work that way. You think I only go to movies where Lassie has a role? You think I only read dog-lit? Turn my nose up at anything other than Alpo?

No, what makes the difference for (Arf)da! is whether or not the school has a really cool mascot. Like Wisconsin’s new Blue Bucky. That puts the old Popcorn-Box-Weasel to shame. He was too grumpy, anyhow.





I’ll be back with my take on this weekend’s action after this weekend’s action has concluded. I’d give you my take now, but I should at least pretend I’m paying attention.

Peeves Last

I’m going to assume my objection to dead dogs blogging is self-explanatory. I mean, really. That may be the next to last thing the world needs, right behind Kelly Murphy committing to Stanford.

So I’ll move along to my last peeve (of the original list -- more are available for download at iPeeves). This one has been nipping at my ankles for several years now, raising welts you would not believe! How do you suppose I could convince a TV network that it would be worth their while to start using some sort of graphic during their telecasts which easily allows the viewer to know which rotation each team is in? It would be even better if they would start showing statistics for those rotations, but I’d settle for the graphic.

I’d also love to see something along those lines with GameTracker. Heck, I think it would be cool for a school to have it at the match itself for the fans to see.

Am I dreaming? I did suggest this to CSTV last year in regards to GameTracker, but I’m still waiting for a response. (I was not the one who suggested having the Hindenburg fly across our screens while we try to watch the stats change.) It is this volleyrube’s opinion that keeping track of the rotations is comparable to pitcher/batter matchups (and their graphics) in baseball -- and that it’s also something to which the majority of volleyball fans are completely Oblivious Newton John.

So if you’re reading out there, oh-powerful-networks, you could be the first network on the block to offer this feature. You could be the one we all call “cutting edge” and “volleyball savvy.” And you could owe it all to (R)uffda! Seriously. I could use the extra cash.

Peeves IV

You’ve probably seen this play a few times, too. Suzy Howitzer is set and smacks the ball off the back wall. She and her coaches immediately start begging for the micro-touch, imploring both refs and both line judges to make the call and award the Big How the kill. When no one volunteers to bail Suzy out, the indignation kicks in. How could anyone have missed this?!

My advice for the aggrieved is to focus their frustration and wrath where it belongs: on the player launching the scud in the first place. You want a touch call? Don’t hit a shot that’s twenty feet out. Break some fingers if you have to. Otherwise, shut up, please. If it wasn’t obvious enough for all four officials to see it, you don’t deserve the point anyhow.

(Of course, if it was obvious and they still don’t see it, feel free to knock the first referee off his stand. Hell, use one of the line judges to do it.)