I’m struggling today.

I’m sitting on the couch in my basement, surrounded by sports memorabilia. To my left are panoramic pictures of Bramlage Coliseum and Bill Snyder Family Stadium. There’s my Frank Martin bobblehead (Little Frank), complete with a bandage on his head, commemorating a nasty tumble he took off my desk. On my bookshelf sits a signed copy of Bill Snyder: They Said It Couldn’t Be Done.

This “writing hole,” as it has been deemed by my wife, is not short on inspiration. So I sit, and my hands crank out keystrokes. Alas, one key is getting much more work than the rest.

Backspace.

Writer’s block is real, people. What does one write about for a Monday such as this?

Yes, the Wildcats took a highly ranked Baylor Bear team to the wire last Thursday. I could write about that, but that game was LAST THURSDAY. A whopping four days ago. In this information age we currently occupy, that’s practically decades away. I may as well write about how the Ottoman Empire helped shape Snyder’s coaching methods.

I could preview the upcoming K-State basketball season. Alas, with 86 new players on scholarship (number approximate) that column would have to be the first in a 12-part series.

I could throw together a column of five predictions, wherein I mention that I think K-State football will win its remaining four games and land in the Liberty Bowl. I could even give it a title that sounds catchy at first, but such novelty erodes a bit every subsequent time you hear it. First and Five? Perfect. Perfectly horrible.

But why attempt to predict things when my accuracy is akin to that of a glaucoma-ridden archer with a severe case of vertigo?

I could embrace the notion of predicting things that will most likely not happen, saying my prophecies are “BOLD predictions.” With that, I will have the freedom the declare things like “Wesley Iwundu will earn First Team All-Big 12 honors,” and “K-State football will be back in the hunt for a conference title next season.” I could use exclamation marks. I could act like I’m shouting to the masses. Would I be wrong? Almost certainly. But hey, I’ll say, weren’t those predictions bold?

I could furiously question why K-State didn’t approach the second half of the TCU game the way they approached the Baylor game. I could toss out uncertified speculation on Bill Snyder’s eventual successor. I could write haiku poetry about Anthony Beane.

Topics are everywhere, but I’m struggling. The words will not cooperate with each other. Little Frank’s glare is not helping.

Type. Type. Backspace.

Type. Type. Backspace.

Type. Type. Type.

I realize, as keystrokes begin to resemble the sound of chopping wood, that this whole idea of struggling seems a bit familiar.

K-State football has lost five games in a row, but they’re showing progress. With conference powers out of the way, the Wildcats now have a chance to get back on track against the No. 6, No.  7, No. 8, and No. 10 teams in the Big 12.

Words have come. Wins will come.

The struggle is real, but this struggle will end.

And if it doesn’t, I will have far too much to write about.

 

About The Author

Hi, I’m Derek Larson. You might remember me from such autobiographical blurbs as “Yo Soy Derek” and “Paste Blurb Here.” I was born and raised in the Manhattan area and I graduated from Kansas State University in 2005. Now I’m now adjusting to life in the land of husking corn. My groom’s cake was a Powercat and I was once convinced that the future of Wildcat basketball was a seven-foot volleyball player. I’ve written about K-State sports in different capacities, often without people asking me to. My hobbies include bringing more purple to Lincoln, Neb., and making vague (and not-so-vague) references to The Simpsons. Follow me on Twitter at @dereklarson.

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