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Deadspin | Colorado holds off Arizona State behind Barrington Hargress’ 23 points

Deadspin | Colorado holds off Arizona State behind Barrington Hargress’ 23 points

Feb 7, 2026; Boulder, Colorado, USA; Arizona State Sun Devils forward Andrija Grbovic (14) tips the ball away from Colorado Buffaloes center Elijah Malone (50) in the first half at the CU Events Center. Mandatory Credit: Ron Chenoy-Imagn Images

Barrington Hargress scored 23 points and Sebastian Rancik had 17 as Colorado defeated Arizona State 78-70 in a Big 12 game Saturday in Boulder, Col.

The Buffaloes (14-10, 4-7 Big 12) shot 50.8% from the field (31 of 61) as they outscored the Sun Devils (12-12, 3-8) 42-26 in the paint.

Isaiah Johnson also had 16 for Colorado.

Arizona State was led by Maurice Odum with 23 points and Massamba Diop’s 19 and team-high seven rebounds.

After squandering its seven-point halftime lead and battling back and forth, the Buffaloes reclaimed control with a 7-0 run that gave them a 64-56 lead with 8:48 left.

The Sun Devils were able to cut the deficit to two with a 6-0 run over the ensuing two minutes with Diop finishing a pair of dunks.

Bangot Dak, however, hit a short jumper and Rancik nailed a 3-pointer to give Colorado a seven-point lead with 5:28 left which was never cut to less than three the rest of the way.

The Buffaloes built a 12-point first-half lead by shooting 46.9% from the floor (15 of 32), while the Sun Devils struggled from the floor hitting only 32.3% (10 of 31) of their shots in the first 20 minutes.

The Buffaloes led by 10 midway through the first half after the Sun Devils went over five minutes with a made basket.

Rancik had five points during the stretch with two free throws and a 3-pointer.

Dak finished the run with a rousing dunk down the lane with 7:27 left in the half to make it 26-16 Colorado.

Colorado took a 32-21 lead on back-to-back layups by Dak and Hargress with 5:23 left in the half.

Anthony Johnson scored two of the Sun Devils’ 18 second-chance points on a tip-in with 3:30 left to make it 34-27.

Hargress responded with a jumper and Rancik hit a 3-pointer to give Colorado a 39-27 lead with 1:57 to go.

The Sun Devils were able to get back within single digits in the final two minutes when Odum hit two free throws and Johnson scored on a layup with 33 seconds left to make it 39-31 at the break.

–Field Level Media

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In sport, memory lives in numbers and often dominates discussions across eras. Scorecards eventually become history, though for many fans, they are much more.

Ardent baseball fans treat scorecards as precious collectibles, while cricket enthusiasts can swear by a legendary “ton” or a definitive “five-fer” in a specific Test match. Yet, truth often slips through the gaps, much like a cover drive imperiously threaded between point and mid-off.

Baseball offers a clinical verdict: a batter is retired, and the scorecard records the outcome with total indifference. It matters little whether a fielder hauls in the ball at full stretch in right field or if it settles comfortably into a waiting glove in centre. The act is completed, the moment fades, and the numbers move on—offering no room for the artistry of the effort.

A Lesson from the Hardwood

Basketball has always had an answer to this conundrum. For the Los Angeles Lakers, whenever Earvin “Magic” Johnson threaded a pass to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the finish was only half the act. The assist carried weight, etched into the record books as a vital statistic.

In basketball, the creator and the completer share the spotlight, ensuring that fans and history books alike acknowledge the setup as much as the score.

A case for the invisible assist — Why Cricket Needs an ‘Assist’ Column  In sport, memory lives in numbers and often dominates discussions across eras.  Scorecards eventually become history, though for many fans, they are much more.Ardent baseball fans treat scorecards as precious collectibles, while cricket enthusiasts can swear by a legendary “ton” or a definitive “five-fer” in a specific Test match. Yet, truth often slips through the gaps, much like a cover drive imperiously threaded between point and mid-off.Baseball offers a clinical verdict: a batter is retired, and the scorecard records the outcome with total indifference. It matters little whether a fielder hauls in the ball at full stretch in right field or if it settles comfortably into a waiting glove in centre. The act is completed, the moment fades, and the numbers move on—offering no room for the artistry of the effort.A Lesson from the HardwoodBasketball has always had an answer to this conundrum. For the Los Angeles Lakers, whenever Earvin “Magic” Johnson threaded a pass to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the finish was only half the act. The assist carried weight, etched into the record books as a vital statistic.In basketball, the creator and the completer share the spotlight, ensuring that fans and history books alike acknowledge the setup as much as the score.Brothers of destruction: Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar formed one of the deadliest combinations in NBA, leading the attack for Los Angeles Lakers.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                The Hindu Photo Library
                            Brothers of destruction: Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar formed one of the deadliest combinations in NBA, leading the attack for Los Angeles Lakers.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                The Hindu Photo Library
                                                    The Evolution of the GameStatisticians in cricket seemingly had a different idea. Perhaps pioneers like Bill Frindall, B.B. Mama, Anandji Dossa, and Sudhir Vaidya never anticipated the acrobatic artistry of a Suryakumar Yadav at the Kensington Oval in 2024 or a Shreyas Iyer in 2026.Cricket commentary celebrates the late swing and the diving stop; it applauds fielding brilliance with roars and endless replays. Yet, when the dust settles, the record often ignores this evolving dimension of the game. During a telecast, we are now accustomed to wagon wheels, Manhattan charts, and “the worm”—visual aids that add spice to an already well-made biryani—but the scorecard remains stubbornly static.The Wankhede MiracleA recent night at the Wankhede Stadium during the 2026 Indian Premier League (IPL) season provided a jarring reminder of this oversight. In the 24th match between the Punjab Kings and Mumbai Indians, the ball sailed toward the boundary in the 18th over. Shreyas Iyer produced a moment of pure theatre.Stationed at long-on, he sprinted to his left, launched himself into the air, and plucked the ball from the sky. Mid-flight, as gravity pulled him toward the rope, instinct took over. He flicked the ball back into play just as he crossed the boundary, where Xavier Bartlett completed the relay. Hardik Pandya was sent on his way, and the stadium erupted.Key architect: Shreyas Iyer did not really take the catch of Hardik Pandya, but he played the most significant role in the dismissal.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                PTI
                            Key architect: Shreyas Iyer did not really take the catch of Hardik Pandya, but he played the most significant role in the dismissal.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                PTI
                                                    Ask anyone who “took” that catch, and the name they say will be Iyer. Yet, look at the scorecard, and Iyer’s name is nowhere to be found. In the history books, he doesn’t even receive an asterisk for this breathtaking fusion of athleticism, awareness, and timing.Similarly, when a catch bursts from the grasp of a diving first-slip fielder and is safely completed by a teammate at second slip, the scorecard credits only the finisher, leaving the initial effort, often the defining act, without even a mention.A Call for ChangeThe typical line on a scorecard reads: “c Fielder b Bowler.” Even if a substitute or an “Impact Player” takes the catch, their name is recognised. But in a relay situation, the player who does the heavy lifting—the “creator”—is erased from the official narrative.Cricket has evolved in almost every other dimension. Technology provides mountains of data for batters, bowlers, and coaches, yet we lack the statistical language to preserve teamwork in motion. The boundary relay catch is the purest example of a collaborative effort; without the first player, the second does not exist. Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column would change that.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                AP
                            

                            Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column would change that.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                AP
                                                    Imagine a child twenty years from now speaking about their father’s legendary catch. They pull up the scorecard to prove it, only to find a name that isn’t his. What do they point to? The video might survive in fragments, but the numbers—sport’s most trusted storytellers—will remain silent.Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column wouldn’t just change a statistic; it would honour the invisible hand that shapes the game’s most defining moments. In a sport that prides itself on detail, this is one detail that has waited long enough to be seen.Published on May 12, 2026  #case #invisible #assist #Cricket #Assist #Column

Brothers of destruction: Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar formed one of the deadliest combinations in NBA, leading the attack for Los Angeles Lakers. | Photo Credit: The Hindu Photo Library

lightbox-info

Brothers of destruction: Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar formed one of the deadliest combinations in NBA, leading the attack for Los Angeles Lakers. | Photo Credit: The Hindu Photo Library

The Evolution of the Game

Statisticians in cricket seemingly had a different idea. Perhaps pioneers like Bill Frindall, B.B. Mama, Anandji Dossa, and Sudhir Vaidya never anticipated the acrobatic artistry of a Suryakumar Yadav at the Kensington Oval in 2024 or a Shreyas Iyer in 2026.

Cricket commentary celebrates the late swing and the diving stop; it applauds fielding brilliance with roars and endless replays. Yet, when the dust settles, the record often ignores this evolving dimension of the game. During a telecast, we are now accustomed to wagon wheels, Manhattan charts, and “the worm”—visual aids that add spice to an already well-made biryani—but the scorecard remains stubbornly static.

The Wankhede Miracle

A recent night at the Wankhede Stadium during the 2026 Indian Premier League (IPL) season provided a jarring reminder of this oversight. In the 24th match between the Punjab Kings and Mumbai Indians, the ball sailed toward the boundary in the 18th over. Shreyas Iyer produced a moment of pure theatre.

Stationed at long-on, he sprinted to his left, launched himself into the air, and plucked the ball from the sky. Mid-flight, as gravity pulled him toward the rope, instinct took over. He flicked the ball back into play just as he crossed the boundary, where Xavier Bartlett completed the relay. Hardik Pandya was sent on his way, and the stadium erupted.

Key architect: Shreyas Iyer did not really take the catch of Hardik Pandya, but he played the most significant role in the dismissal.

Key architect: Shreyas Iyer did not really take the catch of Hardik Pandya, but he played the most significant role in the dismissal. | Photo Credit: PTI

lightbox-info

Key architect: Shreyas Iyer did not really take the catch of Hardik Pandya, but he played the most significant role in the dismissal. | Photo Credit: PTI

Ask anyone who “took” that catch, and the name they say will be Iyer. Yet, look at the scorecard, and Iyer’s name is nowhere to be found. In the history books, he doesn’t even receive an asterisk for this breathtaking fusion of athleticism, awareness, and timing.

Similarly, when a catch bursts from the grasp of a diving first-slip fielder and is safely completed by a teammate at second slip, the scorecard credits only the finisher, leaving the initial effort, often the defining act, without even a mention.

A Call for Change

The typical line on a scorecard reads: “c Fielder b Bowler.” Even if a substitute or an “Impact Player” takes the catch, their name is recognised. But in a relay situation, the player who does the heavy lifting—the “creator”—is erased from the official narrative.

Cricket has evolved in almost every other dimension. Technology provides mountains of data for batters, bowlers, and coaches, yet we lack the statistical language to preserve teamwork in motion. The boundary relay catch is the purest example of a collaborative effort; without the first player, the second does not exist.

Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column would change that.

Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column would change that. | Photo Credit: AP

lightbox-info

Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column would change that. | Photo Credit: AP

Imagine a child twenty years from now speaking about their father’s legendary catch. They pull up the scorecard to prove it, only to find a name that isn’t his. What do they point to? The video might survive in fragments, but the numbers—sport’s most trusted storytellers—will remain silent.

Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column wouldn’t just change a statistic; it would honour the invisible hand that shapes the game’s most defining moments. In a sport that prides itself on detail, this is one detail that has waited long enough to be seen.

Published on May 12, 2026

#case #invisible #assist #Cricket #Assist #Column">A case for the invisible assist — Why Cricket Needs an ‘Assist’ Column  In sport, memory lives in numbers and often dominates discussions across eras.  Scorecards eventually become history, though for many fans, they are much more.Ardent baseball fans treat scorecards as precious collectibles, while cricket enthusiasts can swear by a legendary “ton” or a definitive “five-fer” in a specific Test match. Yet, truth often slips through the gaps, much like a cover drive imperiously threaded between point and mid-off.Baseball offers a clinical verdict: a batter is retired, and the scorecard records the outcome with total indifference. It matters little whether a fielder hauls in the ball at full stretch in right field or if it settles comfortably into a waiting glove in centre. The act is completed, the moment fades, and the numbers move on—offering no room for the artistry of the effort.A Lesson from the HardwoodBasketball has always had an answer to this conundrum. For the Los Angeles Lakers, whenever Earvin “Magic” Johnson threaded a pass to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the finish was only half the act. The assist carried weight, etched into the record books as a vital statistic.In basketball, the creator and the completer share the spotlight, ensuring that fans and history books alike acknowledge the setup as much as the score.Brothers of destruction: Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar formed one of the deadliest combinations in NBA, leading the attack for Los Angeles Lakers.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                The Hindu Photo Library
                            Brothers of destruction: Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar formed one of the deadliest combinations in NBA, leading the attack for Los Angeles Lakers.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                The Hindu Photo Library
                                                    The Evolution of the GameStatisticians in cricket seemingly had a different idea. Perhaps pioneers like Bill Frindall, B.B. Mama, Anandji Dossa, and Sudhir Vaidya never anticipated the acrobatic artistry of a Suryakumar Yadav at the Kensington Oval in 2024 or a Shreyas Iyer in 2026.Cricket commentary celebrates the late swing and the diving stop; it applauds fielding brilliance with roars and endless replays. Yet, when the dust settles, the record often ignores this evolving dimension of the game. During a telecast, we are now accustomed to wagon wheels, Manhattan charts, and “the worm”—visual aids that add spice to an already well-made biryani—but the scorecard remains stubbornly static.The Wankhede MiracleA recent night at the Wankhede Stadium during the 2026 Indian Premier League (IPL) season provided a jarring reminder of this oversight. In the 24th match between the Punjab Kings and Mumbai Indians, the ball sailed toward the boundary in the 18th over. Shreyas Iyer produced a moment of pure theatre.Stationed at long-on, he sprinted to his left, launched himself into the air, and plucked the ball from the sky. Mid-flight, as gravity pulled him toward the rope, instinct took over. He flicked the ball back into play just as he crossed the boundary, where Xavier Bartlett completed the relay. Hardik Pandya was sent on his way, and the stadium erupted.Key architect: Shreyas Iyer did not really take the catch of Hardik Pandya, but he played the most significant role in the dismissal.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                PTI
                            Key architect: Shreyas Iyer did not really take the catch of Hardik Pandya, but he played the most significant role in the dismissal.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                PTI
                                                    Ask anyone who “took” that catch, and the name they say will be Iyer. Yet, look at the scorecard, and Iyer’s name is nowhere to be found. In the history books, he doesn’t even receive an asterisk for this breathtaking fusion of athleticism, awareness, and timing.Similarly, when a catch bursts from the grasp of a diving first-slip fielder and is safely completed by a teammate at second slip, the scorecard credits only the finisher, leaving the initial effort, often the defining act, without even a mention.A Call for ChangeThe typical line on a scorecard reads: “c Fielder b Bowler.” Even if a substitute or an “Impact Player” takes the catch, their name is recognised. But in a relay situation, the player who does the heavy lifting—the “creator”—is erased from the official narrative.Cricket has evolved in almost every other dimension. Technology provides mountains of data for batters, bowlers, and coaches, yet we lack the statistical language to preserve teamwork in motion. The boundary relay catch is the purest example of a collaborative effort; without the first player, the second does not exist. Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column would change that.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                AP
                            

                            Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column would change that.
                                                            | Photo Credit: 
                                AP
                                                    Imagine a child twenty years from now speaking about their father’s legendary catch. They pull up the scorecard to prove it, only to find a name that isn’t his. What do they point to? The video might survive in fragments, but the numbers—sport’s most trusted storytellers—will remain silent.Cricket doesn’t lack appreciation for fielding; it lacks the language to preserve it. An assist column wouldn’t just change a statistic; it would honour the invisible hand that shapes the game’s most defining moments. In a sport that prides itself on detail, this is one detail that has waited long enough to be seen.Published on May 12, 2026  #case #invisible #assist #Cricket #Assist #Column

Deadspin | Jim Colbert, 35-time professional winner, dies at 85  May 13, 2006; Sandestin, FL, USA; Jim Colbert tees off on the 14th hole of the Raven course during the second round of the Boeing Championships at Sandestin. Mandatory Credit: Jason Parkhurst Copyright © 2006 Jason Parkhurst    Jim Colbert, an eight-time winner on the PGA Tour and a 35-time professional winner overall, died on Sunday at the age of 85.  From 1969 to 1983, Colbert won eight tournaments on the tour, earning two playoff victories (2-0) in the process. One of those came in 1983 — a high mark calendar year for Colbert, the only year he won two tournaments — against Fuzzy Zoeller in the Colonial National Invitation.  Constantly adorned in his signature bucket hat, Colbert made an even bigger splash on the senior circuit, earning 20 senior PGA tour wins over a 10-year span from 1991 to 2001.  On that hat, Colbert came to embrace his signature look, after finding that people wouldn’t recognize him without it.  “Lee Trevino has the sombrero. Jack Nicklaus has the bear,” Colbert said. “I have my hat.”   Born in New Jersey, Colbert played golf and football before earning a football scholarship to attend Kansas State University. Following an injury, Colbert re-dedicated himself to golf, finishing runner-up at the 1964 NCAA Championship. He turned professional shortly thereafter.   After his turn on the PGA Tour, Colbert served as a golf analyst on ESPN before re-entering the game on the PGA Tour Champions circuit. He was an instant success there, winning three times in 1991 to earn Rookie of the Year honors.  Colbert had a public battle with prostate cancer in the late 1990s, but he rebounded to win another tournament in 1998, which resulted in his being named Comeback Player of the Year.  His continued involvement with his alma mater led to a friendship with longtime Kansas State football coach Bill Snyder and the construction of a golf course named in his honor, Colbert Hills, located in Manhattan, Kan.   “Jim had a positive influence on many, many lives,” Snyder said. “He never failed to step up to help when he was in a position to help his community and people in need.”  Colbert has been enshrined in the Kansas State Athletic Hall of Fame, the Kansas Sports Hall of Fame and the Las Vegas Golf Hall of Fame, among other honors.  –Field Level Media    #Deadspin #Jim #Colbert #35time #professional #winner #diesMay 13, 2006; Sandestin, FL, USA; Jim Colbert tees off on the 14th hole of the Raven course during the second round of the Boeing Championships at Sandestin. Mandatory Credit: Jason Parkhurst Copyright © 2006 Jason Parkhurst

Jim Colbert, an eight-time winner on the PGA Tour and a 35-time professional winner overall, died on Sunday at the age of 85.

From 1969 to 1983, Colbert won eight tournaments on the tour, earning two playoff victories (2-0) in the process. One of those came in 1983 — a high mark calendar year for Colbert, the only year he won two tournaments — against Fuzzy Zoeller in the Colonial National Invitation.

Constantly adorned in his signature bucket hat, Colbert made an even bigger splash on the senior circuit, earning 20 senior PGA tour wins over a 10-year span from 1991 to 2001.

On that hat, Colbert came to embrace his signature look, after finding that people wouldn’t recognize him without it.

“Lee Trevino has the sombrero. Jack Nicklaus has the bear,” Colbert said. “I have my hat.”


Born in New Jersey, Colbert played golf and football before earning a football scholarship to attend Kansas State University. Following an injury, Colbert re-dedicated himself to golf, finishing runner-up at the 1964 NCAA Championship. He turned professional shortly thereafter.

After his turn on the PGA Tour, Colbert served as a golf analyst on ESPN before re-entering the game on the PGA Tour Champions circuit. He was an instant success there, winning three times in 1991 to earn Rookie of the Year honors.

Colbert had a public battle with prostate cancer in the late 1990s, but he rebounded to win another tournament in 1998, which resulted in his being named Comeback Player of the Year.

His continued involvement with his alma mater led to a friendship with longtime Kansas State football coach Bill Snyder and the construction of a golf course named in his honor, Colbert Hills, located in Manhattan, Kan.

“Jim had a positive influence on many, many lives,” Snyder said. “He never failed to step up to help when he was in a position to help his community and people in need.”

Colbert has been enshrined in the Kansas State Athletic Hall of Fame, the Kansas Sports Hall of Fame and the Las Vegas Golf Hall of Fame, among other honors.


–Field Level Media

#Deadspin #Jim #Colbert #35time #professional #winner #dies">Deadspin | Jim Colbert, 35-time professional winner, dies at 85  May 13, 2006; Sandestin, FL, USA; Jim Colbert tees off on the 14th hole of the Raven course during the second round of the Boeing Championships at Sandestin. Mandatory Credit: Jason Parkhurst Copyright © 2006 Jason Parkhurst    Jim Colbert, an eight-time winner on the PGA Tour and a 35-time professional winner overall, died on Sunday at the age of 85.  From 1969 to 1983, Colbert won eight tournaments on the tour, earning two playoff victories (2-0) in the process. One of those came in 1983 — a high mark calendar year for Colbert, the only year he won two tournaments — against Fuzzy Zoeller in the Colonial National Invitation.  Constantly adorned in his signature bucket hat, Colbert made an even bigger splash on the senior circuit, earning 20 senior PGA tour wins over a 10-year span from 1991 to 2001.  On that hat, Colbert came to embrace his signature look, after finding that people wouldn’t recognize him without it.  “Lee Trevino has the sombrero. Jack Nicklaus has the bear,” Colbert said. “I have my hat.”   Born in New Jersey, Colbert played golf and football before earning a football scholarship to attend Kansas State University. Following an injury, Colbert re-dedicated himself to golf, finishing runner-up at the 1964 NCAA Championship. He turned professional shortly thereafter.   After his turn on the PGA Tour, Colbert served as a golf analyst on ESPN before re-entering the game on the PGA Tour Champions circuit. He was an instant success there, winning three times in 1991 to earn Rookie of the Year honors.  Colbert had a public battle with prostate cancer in the late 1990s, but he rebounded to win another tournament in 1998, which resulted in his being named Comeback Player of the Year.  His continued involvement with his alma mater led to a friendship with longtime Kansas State football coach Bill Snyder and the construction of a golf course named in his honor, Colbert Hills, located in Manhattan, Kan.   “Jim had a positive influence on many, many lives,” Snyder said. “He never failed to step up to help when he was in a position to help his community and people in need.”  Colbert has been enshrined in the Kansas State Athletic Hall of Fame, the Kansas Sports Hall of Fame and the Las Vegas Golf Hall of Fame, among other honors.  –Field Level Media    #Deadspin #Jim #Colbert #35time #professional #winner #dies

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