Atonement

My mother never once said to me “(R)uffda!, my son, if you can’t say something nice, don’t bother saying anything at all.” That would have made for some pretty silent meals at the (R)uffda! homestead , let me tell you. We would have been left with no choice except to fling the mashed potatoes and pickled beets, and that would have riled (R)uffda! Senior, which would have led to some sort of (R)uffda! spanking and (R)uffda! screeching.

But, even without that maternal guidance, I feel compelled to atone for the hostile tone of my last blog, even if absolutely none of the hostility -- I swear! -- was mine. What I am going to do is post the very first nice thing I can think of about each of those same volleyball programs I was lambasting -- by proxy! -- yesterday.


Nebraska -- That's easy. Jordan Larson and Sarah Pavan (even if she does think I’m someone I’m not) are two of my favorite volleyball players ever.

Stanford -- Uh. Well... hmmm. OK, this was a bad idea.

Never mind. I won’t bother saying anything at all.

BASTA!

A few volleyball fans have inquired about the BASTA! movement. I am confident that even more are curious, but are just too shy to ask. Or perhaps they are cowards, quivering like bowls of jello in the backseat of a ’73 Pinto doing 60 on a gravel road. Some people simply do not possess the stuff to stand up to the intimidation of the anti-BASTA! forces. Forces, I might add, which lurk everywhere. (Except for maybe Superior, Wisconsin. Not even the local lurkers lurk there.)

Normally, my reply would be something along the lines of “Excuse me, but do I look like some flunky from Google? Please go away and let me finish my drink in peace!” However, because I have a stinking suspicion my first blog -- if and when it ever is published (Odin!!) -- is going to bring out all the VolleyTalk slackers and a chorus of “You suck!”, I feel it is perhaps wise to respond.

BASTA! stands for Backlash Against Stanford Talent Aquisition! It is an organization growing, like, by groundswell. Or, as I prefer to say, growing like a groundswell grows. It was formed in the late Fall of 2006, after it became apparent Alix Klineman was indeed going to Stanford.

The original name, PASTA! (for People Against Stanford Talent Aquisition!), was, I admit, a fiasco. “PASTA!?”, people would say. “PASTA!??” With 500 T-shirts already on order, I stood my ground. I figured, hey, give it a chance. “PASTA!?” people continued to say. “PASTA!???” It was that third question mark which finally convinced me that “PASTA!” was not going to work.

I started through the alphabet. “AASTA!” was just stupid. “CASTA!” and “DASTA!” were not as stupid, but still stupid. I then realized I had skipped “BASTA!” “Eureka!” I screamed. “BASTA! That’s Italian for ‘enough!’ That’s perfect!” My wife looked up from her book, ever so briefly, rolled her eyes, and muttered something under her breath that sounded an awful lot like “What a dork.”

Now came the tough part. What the hell did the “B” stand for? “Brothers”? Kind of male-centric. We certainly don’t want to alienate the females. “Brotherhood”? Better, but ditto. “Boobs”? That’s a non-starter. “Bitterfans”? It’s not even a word. “Bastards”? Maybe. “Buffoons”? A leading contender. “Blighters”? Too British. “Babirusa”? Pretty obscure. “Blowhards”? Nice.

Anyhow, I eventually went to the dictionary and settled on “Backlash”. It works, I think.

So what’s next for “BASTA!”? Hey, I came up with the name. Time for someone else to do some of the heavy lifting. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my drink in peace.