And from 4pm to 5pm, we just kick back and chill. No classes Monday thanks Snowpocalypse.

Stevie Stamkos just being loose in his Snuggie.

The following is a ballad. It might take 2 hours to read because it took longer than that to write. Just so you know I wasn’t listening to The Cure a lot when I wrote it.

Feel free to skip down to the North Carolina news.

Winning Begets Winning

Once you’ve had that first taste of victory, you work to protect your success because winning is very enjoyable and there’s nothing quite like saying we were the best team of the year unless of course you get to say we were the  best team two years in a row. Early morning lifting. Taking an extra night off from drinking. Making sure to always dodge against the top pole. Little things that make you better. And you do them because you know if you don’t there is someone on the roster who will and you’ll be out of a job.

If you play for an average team, losing is common place. You get back on the bus after a loss and start talking right away. You might even start thinking about what you are going to do after the game ends while the game has yet to conclude. You expect the starter ahead of you to work hard believing you’ll never be called into action.

Sounds a lot easier to create a losing culture than a winning culture.

It takes far less energy to be apathetic.

There is no emotional strain placed on an athlete comfortable with losing.

At the end of the day, if you know you’re not on a national championship caliber team, why bother working out?

Why bother improving your stick skills?

Why bother finding away to get your games filmed so the team can watch what they did wrong?

At the end of the day, if you know you’re not a starter on a national championship caliber team, why wouldn’t you complain about playing time?

Doesn’t matter who gets in. We’re not going to win today. I might as well get mine.

Why bother encouraging your teammates on the field? Instead, hurl ridicules like the opposing team’s student section.

Why bother taking the coach seriously? He went 8-7 last year.

Consider the picture above. In it, two players from the College of Wooster are smiling in front of the scoreboard. Their socks aren’t matching. Their shorts aren’t matching.

And unless we have completely lost our minds during snowpocalypse, we are pretty sure they are losing at half or the game is over.

Wooster has had a program since 1968. And apparently it was acceptable to pose and smile after losses. For all the excitement about the growth of the game, what about schools that have been around for decades and having nothing to show for their troubles.

Well in the summer of 2001, Wooster’s athletic director hired a new head coach. We don’t know if the previous head coach retired or was given the chop. We do know if we were the athletic director that we had hired the best man possible.

Jason Tarnow was a two time All American in the goal for Salisbury after transferring from Michigan State when they killed their D1 program. He was voted the MVP of 1999 title game which the Gulls won. Tarnow got right into coaching at Salisbury then at then D1 Butler before taking the reigns of the sub par College of Wooster Fighting Scots.

The Scots had wrapped up the 2001 season with a 4-9 record, their fifth consecutive losing season in a row (which to a person who lives in the same city the Pittsburgh Pirates compete in, doesn’t sound that bad). Some significant losses included conference defeats to Kenyon 20-5 and Ohio Wesleyan 24-7.

In 2002 which was Tarnow’s first year as the head coach, there was slight improvement on the field. The team finished 5-6 and only lost to Ohio Wesleyan 15-7 and Kenyon 16-9. There was exponential improvement off the field in recruiting as Tarnow landed a remarkable recruiting class featuring a high school All American from North Carolina and other talented players from Bullis (MD), New Trier (IL), Darien (CT), and Upper Arlington (OH) to name a few.

Tarnow’s first recruiting class and the 2003 season changed Wooster lacrosse forever. The top 3 scorers were freshmen. The starting goalie and two of his backups were freshmen. The starting long stick middie was a freshman who chipped in two goals and two assists. The youth movement was underway and with it came an 8-7 record.

Wooster closed the gap on Ohio Wesleyan, dropping the contest 11-4. And while they lost the first game against Kenyon 15-6, their second go round with the Lords resulted in a 8-5 loss. The Scots won their final two games of the season by a combined score of 34-7. Several freshmen made the all conference team and the AD was probably on cloud 9 if he was paying attention.

The fall of 2003 mirrored the fall of 2002. Tarnow roped in another giant recruiting class with players from Colorado, Massachusetts, Virginia, Pennsylvania and Texas. In three seasons, the roster had grown from 20 to 30 to 40. The more players you have the more competition at practice. The more players push each other. The better they become. The better the team becomes.

When I agreed to attend Wooster that fall, I had no idea what would occur in the spring. I don’t believe any freshmen in my recruiting class had an idea. I don’t believe any returning players had an idea. The athletic department wouldn’t have dreamed it in their wildest, lottery ticket winning dreams. Not even sure Coach had an idea as to what was going to occur in the spring.

The fall was an interesting learning experience for me, for us all I’m sure. Freshmen maneuvered for Coach’s favor in pick up scrimmages before the rest of campus arrived. The fitness testing proved I had herculean leggirth, but a teacup yorkie chest.

In classic Wooster fashion (things we done strangely all over campus), our first fall ball practice was on a Saturday morning. The assistant coach said, “Don’t worry. We’ll sweat it out of you.” That was the most nerve wrecking warm up lap of my life.

We adjusted as humans often do as time passes. We realized that even though the assistant coach (pictured in the black polo) had garnered the nickname Optimus Prime, he was approachable and not a cannibal. Some freshmen left after the fall semester. One was home sick. One decided he wanted to wear a sarong instead of riding the bench. And one left for San Diego if memory serves.

By the end of the first month, I was sleeping soundly through the evening, which a doctor chalked up to stress and anxious (soft). I learned how much I could drink without getting sick. I learned I was a step slower dodging on Ohio grass. I learned that even if you weren’t from a brand name high school, you could be a good D3 player if you worked hard. And most importantly, I learned Coach Tarnow wanted to win badly. The best players were going to play regardless of age.

I arrived at Wooster after playing on three years of high school lacrosse. I  loved the game and I did everything I could to get better. Grades and social life suffered but by senior year I could throw and catch with my off hand and I had earned a spot on the second middie line. Some games I wouldn’t play at all. Some games the coaches would put me in at attack to mop up the blowout.

The result of picking up the game late and then playing with such good players was what I have often described as being unwilling to pull the trigger because it wasn’t my time yet. There were far more talented athletes and lacrosse players on my high school roster I didn’t want to be the one that made the mistake and cost us the game.

My attitude became “I’d rather be on the bench of a winning team. Then be a starter for a loser.” And I really believed that and relished it. Who wouldn’t want to be a member of the best team in the area? I would have been a starter anywhere else in Pittsburgh but I wouldn’t  have won titles or learned from the best coaches or played with the best players.

The problem was I didn’t really adhere to that mantra when I selected Wooster. My dream school was Middlebury but in an effort to improve my stick work, my grades tanked. As such, no NESCAC school was an option. I also considered Michigan but was just shy of the SAT average that Coach Paul recommended. When I reached out to some smaller D3 programs, I  saw the flashing lights of being a “recruited” athlete.

Tough not to smile when you’re a second line middie, the phone rings and your mother says, “It’s for you. It’s Coach So and So.”

Maybe it was the senior capstone being ranked second to Princeton’s. Maybe it was dreaming of being “the hero that scored 6 goals in the rain against Denison.” Maybe it was the coaches telling me I could pick anything I wanted out of the lacrosse catalog.

I know what it wasn’t. It wasn’t the rumor that the school had the top 5 ugliest girls in the country as ranked by Playboy. For the record, that’s a terrible thing to hear as an 18 year old boy after you’ve grown up such cinema masterpieces as American Pie and American Pie 2. My girlfriend sophomore year was at least a 9.1 and not just a Wooster 9.1, a 9.1 anywhere in the country so I’m not sure how much weight that Playboy ranking system holds. In my mind, a school that is top 5 ugliest in the country doesn’t have legit 9.1s walking around on campus. But I digress.

Regardless of my desire to win more titles watching from the bench or even contributing every so slightly as I did senior year of high school, I picked Wooster and the cocky young coach who told me big things were coming for the program and that I should be apart of those scenarios.

I actually had corresponded with Salisbury once but the email that I got back simply said, “hit the weight room.” Crossed that off the list.

In summary of the mini tangent, no idea really why I picked Wooster.

___________________________

I showed up at fall practice thinking to myself, “Okay, you’re going to have two years to get settled in to the program. Earn your stripes and hopefully by junior year you can be ready.”

Here’s the problem. Tarnow didn’t have time for us to develop.

Unlike high school sports, the coaches don’t coach for a living. Coach Tarnow didn’t have two years to wait for players to develop he needed to win now. He needed to maximize his chances of landing better recruits so Wooster would continue to improve. But, he also needed to maximize his chances of landing a higher paying coaching job.

It’s not personal its business. I wouldn’t want to be mid 20s living in Wooster, Ohio when I could take a higher paying coaching job elsewhere. Completely understandable.

So what happened? Instead of easing in college lacrosse, I along with my fellow freshmen were thrown to the fire in fall ball and spring and expected to contribute. After all the coaches brought us there to play not to be art majors and make hats out of dried flowers.

For those of us who earned playing time so early in our college careers, it stroked our egos one way or another. For the others who weren’t rewarded in a similar fashion, negativity crept into their hearts and minds.

There were players in my class who had been starters for several years at smaller schools. Being the big man on campus was status quo.

As a player coming from a talented high school program, I didn’t expect to play right away. In fact, I’d be willing to bet five years of  my life that I was the only person in my recruiting class that was not a starter.

So when I was being shuffled in and out of the top two middie lines of freshman year fall ball, a spark of confidence manifested itself in my mind. That spark turned myself against…myself. Instead of saying, “I can be a 4 year contributor if I take this seriously from day one,” I said, “I’m getting playing time as a freshman. This is a lot easier than I thought it was going to be.”

And from that moment in fall ball, I shut it down. I knew I was better than all of the middies below me. I didn’t feel threatened by losing my spot.

I betrayed myself. I betrayed all the work I had done in high school to have an opportunity to play competitive D3 lacrosse.

In the spring of 2004, Wooster went 9-5. We beat Kenyon 10-4 at Kenyon. We beat Ohio Wesleyan 7-5 at Ohio Wesleyan for the school’s first win in perhaps decades.

OWU beat Wooster 28-0 in 2000. Four years later they lost to us on their field. Ohio Wesleyan alums were so furious they called our assistant coach, who had played at Ohio Wesleyan, to complain about the loss.

Unfortunately, I had put myself before the team over spring break, gotten injured, and could not play in the OWU game. I watched from the sideline in a sling unable to participate in the program’s biggest win to date.

One month later, the unthinkable happened. On the strength of the win over Ohio Wesleyan and their win over Denison, we were invited to the NCAA tournament for the first time in school history.

On May 14th, we were at a Maryland movie theater watching Brad Pitt in Troy. On May 15th, we were playing Salisbury in the first round of the tournament. Of course we scored the first goal of the game.

By this point, I had completely played my way out of favor with the coaches. So after my first run of the game ended in me failing to corral a cross crease pass that would have generated a goal, I spent the rest of the game watching from the sideline.

We lost 13-2.

But there was good that came from the game. A ton of energy from releasing a new season was a few short months away and we were only graduating two starters who we didn’t think were that good anyway.

Everyone was fired up to get a second chance, a third, or in even a fourth chance at the D3 title. We made shirts that had the date of the 2005 D3 title game.

I was greeted by lacrosse parents around town like a hero because my name had been printed in the newspaper. The title read, “Tumbas helps Wooster to school’s first ever NCAA tournament appearance.”

But my freshman experience was but a microcosm for the program moving forward.

If Tarnow changed Wooster lacrosse forever in 2003, then May 15, 2004 brought the progress to a violent halt.

Make the tournament your freshman year expect to make the tournament every year hence forth. No one told Ohio Wesleyan that. No one told Denison that. No one told Kenyon that.

No one put in the work necessary to get us back to the NCAA tournament. We thought it was going to be gifted to us every year. That poison trickled down from the players from Tarnow’s first recruiting class, to us, now as sophomores, to the incoming freshmen and so forth every year.

If you were a half decent player and a bro off the field, you were accepted with open arms. We went on one team run in the fall. One more than last fall. We were God’s gift to D3 lacrosse.

The year before I was allergic to wall ball. In 2005, wall ball would have killed me.

The one time I went to the weight room on an off day, a teammate asked if I was lost. Didn’t go back.

I went to plyometrics to flirt with my eventual girlfriend.

I tweaked my hip flexor in preseason because I wasn’t in shape, wasn’t getting enough sleep.

I fell asleep in the first scouting session of the 2005 season. We lost 16-1.

We went 7-7 with losses to Ohio Wesleyan by a score of 18-7 and to Denison 9-4.

Of the eighteen or so players from my recruiting class, three didn’t make it through fall ball of freshman year. More left after the spring of 04. And, more left after the spring of 2005 including myself.

Losing wasn’t fun.

Being injured and having to watch wasn’t fun.

Being in a small town in Ohio wasn’t fun.

Not doing well in school because lacrosse wasn’t going well wasn’t fun.

Watching D3 football wasn’t fun.

Listening to your teammates and friends complain every day wasn’t fun.

And at some point, I decided to transfer like more than half of my recruiting class. I blamed the school for being in Ohio. I blamed the school for letting sub par Ohio kids who still wore their high school letter jacket on campus and had never seen a building taller than eight stories. I blamed my fraternity for giving a bid to a kid I hated. I blamed the coaches. I blamed my teammates. I blamed my girlfriend. I blamed my parents.

And when people asked me why I transfered, I said, “I realized I just came here to play lacrosse and I don’t want to my parents to pay $35,000 a year for me to play a sport that I no longer enjoy.”

Maybe I did just go there to play lacrosse. As I said earlier, years later I’m still not entirely sure why I picked a liberal arts college in Ohio that everyone else thought was in Massachusetts.

If I did go there just to play lacrosse, I know why I was unhappy. I was used to winning in high school and we didn’t do it at Wooster. Lifting was essentially optional. We rarely got together outside of mandatory practice to shoot. Only a few parents traveled to see games.

I missed the work we did as a high school team. Even as a college team, living and eating together every day we were not very close. The cool kids on the team picked on the dorky kids. In defeat, we have gone our separate ways.

And by transferring, I will always question and wonder what may have been. How would things have been different for me as a student if I had given everything I had? How would things have been different for my  girlfriend and me if I hadn’t transferred? How would things have been different for me as a lacrosse player if I had given everything I had?

How would my life be different now if I realized then that Wooster afforded me the opportunity to do everything that made me happy?

I was playing lacrosse with some great friends, many of whom I still talk to to this day, one of whom is definitely in the running to be my best man.

I was studying with English with some very bright professors and my classmates pushed me to become a better writer if only so I wouldn’t embarrass myself when my story was being workshopped.

And I was dating someone who I will love with my whole heart for the rest of my life.

I used to think eating at the  Golden Corral on spring break was the most white trash experience of my entire life. Last year on road trips, we had to pay for fast food.

Freshman year, my hotel roommate bought piece of junk for the bed to make sure I didn’t steal all the covers. Last year, two roommates slept in the cars we had to drive because they were so disgusted by the conditions in the hotel.

There are days when I want nothing to do with going to practice and sharing an already narrow field with the girl’s team.

Most meetings, I want nothing to do with having to tell players we are collecting dues.

I hate that at the end of practice I have to worry about how many balls are in the ball bag.

I hate that I can’t walk down the hallway, knock on my friends door, walk five minutes to see Coach in his office, and then go throw around in the quad.

There are days when I hate the elitism surrounding top club teams. But then I realize I’m just jealous.

Everything I took for granted at Wooster is magnified here. And everyday I wish I hadn’t transfered.

___________________________

It is now February 8th 2010. Our season should two games old. I talk about winning like it can bring people back from the dead, like it can stop 9/11, the Black Plague, assassination of Lincoln and JFK.

I talk about resenting Wooster because my teammates didn’t care enough about winning.

I talk about resenting Pitt because its a club sport thats hardly supported by the school.

In the three thousand plus words of bitching and moaning, the only conclusion I can reach is that it starts with me . We will never know if we don’t try.

I will never know what kind of D3 lacrosse player I would have been because I didn’t try.

I will never know what kind of changes I could have brought forth on the Wooster culture because I never voiced my opinions.

Since 2005, Wooster has gone 8-6, 8-4, 11-3, and 7-6 with no conference titles and no NCAA tournament appearances.

A friend of mind who stayed all four years said there is a culture of mediocrity there now. I can’t help but feel responsible for it but I can’t help them anymore. That opportunity is gone. Now, I am just a fan.

Effort from within their locker room will take that team to the next level. I wish them the best of luck. I hope at some point they decide they are tired of being the 3rd or 4th best team in the conference every year. Their decisions are their own.

I am a few short months away from graduating after being in college far too long. That pass in the Salisbury playoff game, that test I slept though, years avoiding the weight room, hours not spent in the library, that shot I missed two weeks ago, that girlfriend who I can’t stop thinking about, and so forth, are choices that cannot be undone.

At some point, you have to let go.

My hope for the remaining twelve weeks of my lacrosse career and my undergraduate career is to enjoy every moment of creating something at Pitt that I didn’t allow myself to be apart of at Wooster.

The only way I will be able to enjoy every moment is by giving everything I have of myself to the game, to the team, to the program, to the school.

Only then will I know that what I accomplished was to the best of my abilities and the doubts that have haunted me since leaving Wooster will cease.

Whether you are a coach, a player or a fan, everyday is a chance to get better. I didn’t know that at Wooster and I have paid dearly for that oversight. The bigger error would be to not move forward with what I know now.

(If you read all of this, I hope you’re ready to run through a brick wall).

Noteworthy Weekend Recap

Cal 10 UCSB 6

We billed this game as the battle of who lost more from 2009.  Sophomore Connor Thomas carried the load for Cal netting 3 and 1. Up next for Cal, a date with Oregon. UCSB bounced back Sunday against Stanford. We should be looking at a Cal-Cal Poly slugfest for the WCLL title.

Southern Methodist 15 Texas Tech 5

This game started off slow and ugly. But unlike most early season games, this was a conference match up. SMU stepped on the gas in the second half. We expect bigger things from this program this year and down the road. Your school nickname can’t be Southern Millionaires University and you not attract top lacrosse players.

Chapman 15 San Diego 2

Chapman scored 6 seconds into the game. Sophomore attackman Madison Fiore had 6 and 1. Seems like he fits right in with the older fellas. Connor Martin had 3 and 3. Not sure what else to say. Massacre.

Texas A&m 10 Texas Christian 9

The LSA must love scheduling conference games to start the season. A cynical person looks at this score and says A&M has really fallen off the map. We’ll be patient with the Aggie but are leaning on agreeing with the prior statement.

Going Early

On the heels of a pre puberty tyke committing to USC, we were told from a very reliable source in the Baltimore area that Joe Breschi offered a recruiting class spot to a rising sophomore in high school.

Kind of big news in the lacrosse world but the trend in college sports is to go younger and younger.

But the rumor isn’t done yet.

The player in question hasn’t played a moment of varsity lacrosse yet.

That’s be like accepting a verbal from a 13 year old quarterback who hasn’t played a down of high school varsity football.

There’s no other way to make that comparison.

We were told this youngster was given the opportunity to verbal but not whether the little guy said yes or no.

Either way, Breschi is completely out of control in Chapel Thrill.

Mini Highlight

OSU vs Oregon scrimmage.

It would be lovely to play a lax scrimmage in a Pac 10 football stadium.

Oregon’s goalie plummeting to his knees uber fast. Fantastic opportunity to pump the low to high zingo upper dousher.

Growth of the Game

Don’t try to contain it because its coming hot like JJ Redick around a pick circa 2003.

Florida Lax

No tradition but a ton of style.

Best Tweet @412Lax

Two Showmen

Unreal from Jay-Z

This is the difference between J and Wayne.

Lil Wayne can’t get away with this (see Rebirth).

New Nikes Bra

Worth a Look

Visually stunning but undeveloped story and characters.

Only 6 minutes long with 3 minutes of credits.

[vimeo 7432584]

Notes

Only watched the 4th quarter of the SB

Too stressed out after watching The Hockey Game

Thrilled for the Olympics

Arizona State hazing law suit

Oregon State team store

Pittsburgh hip hop super star not impressed with the SB (Twitter)