Wired Parish Blog

NFL Draft Dilemma

The NFL Draft is tomorrow, and the eyes of OU fans will be glued to the TV to see where Adrian Peterson goes.

My dilemma is that on the one hand, I want AD to go as high as possible in the draft for the sake of his bank account and OU's prestige.

On the other hand, I wouldn't mind if he slips to the 8th or 10th or 12th spot because that will mean he will be with a better team. As much as I'd love for him to go 3rd, I'm not that excited about his playing in Cleveland.

Here's to hoping he goes to a team that a) has a strong offensive line and b) is committed to becoming a championship team.

Bob Stoops and My 20 Month Old Son

Took the fam to Incredible Pizza today. (Think: Chuck E. Cheese without the big rat in the costume.)

Bob Stoops also took his family. Or as I like to think of it, 'Bob Stoops and I took our families to Incredible Pizza today.'

Jonah, our 20 month old, was FREAKING OUT running from game to game. During the course of his frenzy, he blindsided Stoops and ran right into him. The following dialogue ensued:

Jay: 'Man, I'm so sorry!'
Bob: 'Don't worry about it.'
Jay: 'Bro, how do you go out in public? Do you get accosted all the time?'
Bob: 'A little bit.'

Now that was what was actually said, but here's what I think he meant:

He said, 'Don't worry about it,' but what he really meant was, 'You son of a b! Control your kid! I think he may have just torn my ACL again.'

And he said, 'A little bit,' but what he really meant was, 'You know, now that I think about it, the little guy did a good job of leading with his shoulder. Took a good angle. Hit me on the front side rather than from behind. Gonna be a good hitter. Powerful. Aggressive. I like his style. And the drool makes me think he's either teething or ferocious. I'm leaning toward ferocious. When does he graduate? We'd like to offer him a scholarship to play football at the University of Oklahoma.'

Genarlow Wilson and an Outrageous Injustice

I read an article on titled "Outrageous Injustice" on ESPN.com today about the case of Genarlow Wilson.

Extremely long story short is that Genarlow is serving 10 years in the Georgia State Penitentiary for engaging in oral sex with a 15 year old high school sophomore when he was a 17 year old high school senior. If the two had had sexual intercourse, Genarlow could have been charged with a misdemeanor, but Georgia law stated that oral sex was a felony that carried a mandatory 10 year sentence with no possibility of parole.

Genarlow has been in prison for just under 2 years, and unless something changes, he will be there another 8 years and will have to register as a sex offender when he is released.

Their encounter was consensual, and she freely admits that she actually initiated the act. But that didn't matter. Genarlow is still in prison over the incident. EVERYONE involved in this situation, from the Genarlow and the girl, to the court system, to the prison system, to the legislature all agree that this is a colossal injustice, and yet he still waits in prison for the handful of people who can do something to change this actually DO SOMETHING TO CHANGE THIS.

I was so incensed after reading the article that I immediately called his lawyer, B.J. Bernstein, to request an interview. We recorded the interview this morning, and you can hear it here. (If you're subscribed to 'Between the Lines' on Wired Parish, it airs today.)

After hearing the interview or reading the article, I strongly encourage you to visit WilsonAppeal.com to sign your name to their petition to have Genarlow freed.

Terrell Owens and Jay Kelly Team Up

I cried I laughed so hard when I made this little connection:

The publisher of my first book was BenBella Books, a small independent publisher in Dallas. They actually do some really, really good work--my book notwithstanding.

Turns out this is the exact same group that published Terrell Owens' children's book, Little T Learns to Share. I knew T.O. had a children's book, but I had no idea BenBella published it. I assumed it was a major publishing house, but nope, it was my dear friends just down I-35 from the Wired Parish compound.

That has the makings of a great trivia question for my grandchildren.

Confession of a Saints Fan

I rarely, if ever, talk about my love for the New Orleans Saints. I've learned 2 things about discussing such a thing. 1) People laugh--a lot. 2) It is a bittersweet enterprise--heavy on the bitter.

Unlike the Red Sox or the Cubs, the Saints don't just fail each year. They fail miserably. They're in the cellar . . . every year. They don't tease you with what-might-be. You know what will be from the first day of training camp--losing on a near-epic scale.

And yet I still love them. Nay, I still hope. Can you believe that? I hope. Despite 40 years of losing. Despite only a handful of playoff appearances and (before Saturday) ONE playoff win EVER.

When I say I love them, I mean 'I love them.' Not in a 'I've been following them since they signed Aaron Brooks' kind of way. Not in a 'I dig on Deuce McAllister and Joe Horn' kind of way. CERTAINLY not in a 'I love Reggie Bush so I love the Saints' kind of way.

No. No. No. No. No.

We're talking The Dome Patrol (Ricky Jackson, Pat Swilling, Sam Mills, and Vaughn Johnson). Bobby Hebert. Bum Phillips. Dalton Hilliard. Ironhead Heyward. Eric Martin. Hobie Brenner. Reuben Mayes. AND HOKIE FREAKING GAJAN.

Now the Saints stand 60 minutes away from a Super Bowl. Despite Reggie Bush fumbling when he had a chance to ice the game. (I can assure you EVERY Saints fan in the world thought, 'Here we go again,' when Bush dropped the pitch.) Despite doubling their franchise playoff wins on Saturday. Despite a New Orleans that is a looooong way from being rebuilt. Despite the fact that my prayer before the game was, 'God, please don't let us be embarrassed.'

Are we going to beat the Bears this weekend? I have no idea. But here's to hope.

UPDATE: I SWEAR I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. A mere 10 minutes after finishing this post, my 20 month old son THREW UP all over my Saints hat he had been playing with this morning. Despite the fact that he had not been the least bit sick, he wretched ALL OVER IT. He puked, looked over at me, and said, 'Uh oh.'

I have no idea what to say about that.