• The KillerFrogs

Fall Camp 8-2-22

Froggish

Active Member
Fall Camp is kicking off today with check ins and administration stuff and first practice tomorrow. Roster numbers have been updated on GoFrogs.com. Notables...

Chandler Morris is now #2
Blair Conwright is now # 0
Landyn Watson is now #10
D'Arco Perkins-McAllester is #7

Jacquez Sorrells and Daimarqua Foster are no longer Frogs
 

Eight

Member
Fall Camp is kicking off today with check ins and administration stuff and first practice tomorrow. Roster numbers have been updated on GoFrogs.com. Notables...

Chandler Morris is now #2
Blair Conwright is now # 0
Landyn Watson is now #10
D'Arco Perkins-McAllester is #7

Jacquez Sorrells and Daimarqua Foster are no longer Frogs

foster struggled to stay healthy and who knows what the real situation was with sorrells

curious if anyone ever kept track of the miles he rode on the exercise bike

will be interesting to see if they ever update the weights on the roster.
 

Froggish

Active Member
foster struggled to stay healthy and who knows what the real situation was with sorrells

curious if anyone ever kept track of the miles he rode on the exercise bike

will be interesting to see if they ever update the weights on the roster.
Sorrells was a grade casualty. At Navarro.

Foster with some of the worst luck I’ve ever seen.
 

ShadowFrog

Moderators
And so it begins….

Into the blistering wilderness of the practice field, the man who walked with high school kings now walks alone. Torn from the pinnacle of small town power, stripped of all rank and earthly wealth, a forsaken man without a letter jacket, without a crew—his soul in turmoil like the hot winds and raging sands that lash him with the fury of an assistant coach's whip. He is driven forward, always forward, by a dream of a trophy unknown, toward a land unseen... Into the molten wilderness of 2-a-days, where camera towers stand as sentinels of living proof of every missed tackle. Each night brings the black embrace of the lonely film room. In the mocking whisper of the wind, he hears the echoing voices of the dark past... …4-star recruit! 5-star recruit!! Future NFL prospect!!! His tortured mind, wondering if they call the memory of past triumphs or wail foreboding of disasters yet to come or whether the summers’ hot breath has brought back the ghost of Bumpas on a Vespa & melted his reason into madness. He cannot cool the burning kiss of thirst upon his lips nor shade the scorching fury of the sun. All about is desolation. He can neither bless nor curse the power that moves him, for he does not know from where it comes. Learning that it can be more terrible to quit than to die, he is driven onward through the burning crucible of desolation, where the purple & white are cleansed and purged for this great purpose, until at last, at the end of human strength, beaten into the dust from which he came, the metal is ready for the maker's hand.
 

East Coast

Tier 1
how does someone go to college for two years and end up at navarro due to grades?

have they become the greendale college of corsicana
Most likely a combo of (1) poor education through high school, (2) college is just not the right place for him, and (3) never put the work in. With the support they give these kids, the vast majority (though not all) can at least stay eligible if they will work at it.
 
And so it begins….

Into the blistering wilderness of the practice field, the man who walked with high school kings now walks alone. Torn from the pinnacle of small town power, stripped of all rank and earthly wealth, a forsaken man without a letter jacket, without a crew—his soul in turmoil like the hot winds and raging sands that lash him with the fury of an assistant coach's whip. He is driven forward, always forward, by a dream of a trophy unknown, toward a land unseen... Into the molten wilderness of 2-a-days, where camera towers stand as sentinels of living proof of every missed tackle. Each night brings the black embrace of the lonely film room. In the mocking whisper of the wind, he hears the echoing voices of the dark past... …4-star recruit! 5-star recruit!! Future NFL prospect!!! His tortured mind, wondering if they call the memory of past triumphs or wail foreboding of disasters yet to come or whether the summers’ hot breath has brought back the ghost of Bumpas on a Vespa & melted his reason into madness. He cannot cool the burning kiss of thirst upon his lips nor shade the scorching fury of the sun. All about is desolation. He can neither bless nor curse the power that moves him, for he does not know from where it comes. Learning that it can be more terrible to quit than to die, he is driven onward through the burning crucible of desolation, where the purple & white are cleansed and purged for this great purpose, until at last, at the end of human strength, beaten into the dust from which he came, the metal is ready for the maker's hand.

It was a dark and stormy night full of intermittent lightening flash that shed the cape of darkness as easily as the constant stream of fireworks caused by the incessant scoring of the vaunted TCU offense. A night the Shadow knew well......
 

HornyWartyToad

Active Member
It was a dark and stormy night full of intermittent lightening flash that shed the cape of darkness as easily as the constant stream of fireworks caused by the incessant scoring of the vaunted TCU offense. A night the Shadow knew well......
And so it begins….

Into the blistering wilderness of the practice field, the man who walked with high school kings now walks alone. Torn from the pinnacle of small town power, stripped of all rank and earthly wealth, a forsaken man without a letter jacket, without a crew—his soul in turmoil like the hot winds and raging sands that lash him with the fury of an assistant coach's whip. He is driven forward, always forward, by a dream of a trophy unknown, toward a land unseen... Into the molten wilderness of 2-a-days, where camera towers stand as sentinels of living proof of every missed tackle. Each night brings the black embrace of the lonely film room. In the mocking whisper of the wind, he hears the echoing voices of the dark past... …4-star recruit! 5-star recruit!! Future NFL prospect!!! His tortured mind, wondering if they call the memory of past triumphs or wail foreboding of disasters yet to come or whether the summers’ hot breath has brought back the ghost of Bumpas on a Vespa & melted his reason into madness. He cannot cool the burning kiss of thirst upon his lips nor shade the scorching fury of the sun. All about is desolation. He can neither bless nor curse the power that moves him, for he does not know from where it comes. Learning that it can be more terrible to quit than to die, he is driven onward through the burning crucible of desolation, where the purple & white are cleansed and purged for this great purpose, until at last, at the end of human strength, beaten into the dust from which he came, the metal is ready for the maker's hand.
Who farted?
 

BrewingFrog

Was I supposed to type something here?
Tempo. Oh, the opportunities that will create!

The careful and purposeful utilization of tempo is what pantsed Patterson very often. Warden Art recognized this and took advantage, and others followed. Teams make adjustments to attack perceived weaknesses. You must make adjustments of your own to counter this exposure. And the game goes on...
 

Limey Frog

Full Member
Tempo. Oh, the opportunities that will create!

The careful and purposeful utilization of tempo is what pantsed Patterson very often. Warden Art recognized this and took advantage, and others followed. Teams make adjustments to attack perceived weaknesses. You must make adjustments of your own to counter this exposure. And the game goes on...

It got very depressing watching GP's later teams get destroyed by these teams (SMU among them). Hopefully we can do it to others now. My fear with a tempo-based spread was always the increased exposure of your defense when it doesn't work and your possessions only kill 43 seconds of clock time. But late-stage GP's teams had terrible defenses anyway, and rarely spent much more than a minute per offensive possession running... whatever we were trying.
 
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