Adjacent News

The sun over Tulsa this Sunday morning has that particular, hesitant quality that makes one wonder if perhaps we ought to have brought an extra cardigan down to the Mabee Center annex, or at least spent five more minutes on our defensive box-outs during Thursday's closed-door walkthrough. Of course, nobody wants to be the person who brings up footwork when everyone else is simply trying to enjoy a pleasant cup of lukewarm decaf before the Sunday school hour commences. It is just that, looking at the empty floorboards where the guards usually run their three-man weaves, one cannot help feeling that the spacing on our weak-side help defense has been a bit like leaving the parsonage side door unlocked during a brisk autumn squall. One hates to say it, truly. One would rather swallow one's own tongue than cause a stir in the administrative offices or suggest that anyone's lateral recovery speed is anything less than a quiet testament to steadfast Christian patience. Yet the numbers in the defensive efficiency ledger, much like the mysterious disappearance of the good creamer from the faculty lounge refrigerator, do tend to whisper things we might prefer not to hear in polite company. This is a bye week for the Oral Roberts Golden Eagles, which gives us all an uncomfortably large amount of unoccupied time to consider our eternal standing alongside our rebounding metrics. There is no opponent coming to town today, no scouting report to slide quietly beneath the door of the assistant coaches' cubicles, and certainly no screaming from the hardwood to shatter the serene stillness of the campus quad. Instead, there is only the autumn wind rustling through the pecan trees near the Mabee Center parking lot and the persistent, nagging conviction that our refusal to box out block-to-block is somehow tied to a broader, unspoken spiritual lethargy within the student body. One hopes the fellows are resting their hamstrings, of course. One hopes they are taking ample fluids and meditating quietly on the deeper meaning of the pick-and-roll, rather than merely scrolling through their phones in the residence halls. But when you look at how easily a disciplined backdoor cut can pierce our collective composure, you wonder if we are truly prepared for the judgment of the conference slate, or if we are simply coasting on the assumption that grace covers mediocre weak-side rotation. It is a delicate thing to bring up in a column, and if anyone feels singled out by this mention of baseline penetration, please know it comes from a place of deep, trembling affection and an overwhelming desire to see everyone reach their full perimeter potential before the winter chill sets in for good.