"He looks, quite honestly, like a presumptive No. 1 overall pick, like a franchise-caliber quarterback."
@LRiddickESPN reacts to Fernando Mendoza's Pro Day performance 🏈
The Chicago Bulls are waiving guard Jaden Ivey after his recent anti-LGBTQ comments amid several rants on religion and other topics, sources tell ESPN.
What y’all don’t realize about Purdue is we don’t give a shit about your opinions. The Baby Boilers. PJ, Vince, Isaac, and Dakota. Biggie. Boog, Cline, and Grady. JI. Zeebo. Fletch, Braden, and TKR. We’re still here and you still hate us. EVER GRATEFUL, EVER TRUE!
One last ride.
Braden Smith.
Fletcher Loyer.
Trey Kaufman-Renn.
Before the lights.
Before the noise.
Before the moment… there were empty gyms and echoes.
Just a ball bouncing.
Shoes squeaking.
Dreams forming when no one else was watching.
They chose this.
They chose the hard days.
They chose the weight.
They chose Purdue.
They stayed when the world told them to chase something easier.
They built something instead. Brick by brick. Possession by possession. Year by year.
There were heartbreaks that didn’t fade quickly.
Losses that sat heavy.
Film sessions that hurt to watch.
Long nights wondering if it would ever be enough.
But they came back.
Every time.
Stronger. Tougher. Hungrier.
Braden — diving on hardwood like it’s the last play he’ll ever make.
Fletcher — letting it fly with ice in his veins and no fear in his heart.
Trey — fighting in the paint, every rebound like it belongs to him alone.
They didn’t just wear Purdue.
They carried it.
The past.
The expectations.
The hope of everyone who ever believed.
Tonight… all of it meets at the same place.
Every sprint.
Every bruise.
Every drop of sweat.
Every tear no one saw.
Win… and the road leads home.
To Indy.
To a Final Four.
To a chance to write their names into forever.
This is what they stayed for.
This is what they sacrificed for.
This is what they bled for.
Three teammates.
Three brothers.
Three Boiler legends.
One last ride.
Leave everything.
Feel everything.
Give everything.
And if this is the final chapter…
make it one they’ll talk about for generations.
Boiler Up. 🚂
White Boy Rick is the biggest loser at Barstool. Lived with his parents until last year because he provides nothing to the company. Weight Watchers would do him well.
I did some lighthearted trolling with my instate rival and they responded with bodyshaming, insulting my late mother, and tagging my bosses.
Just unable to read social cues and respond proportionately or regulate their emotions. I wonder if there’s a diagnosis for that.
Matt Painter never asked for the spotlight.
He just stood there… arms folded… believing.
Believing in young players before they believed in themselves.
Believing after heartbreak.
Believing after silence.
Believing when it would’ve been easier not to.
Year after year, he took the walk back to the locker room.
Some nights with joy.
Some nights carrying the weight of an entire fanbase on his shoulders.
He answered every question.
Took every criticism.
Protected every player.
And then he came back the next day…
same voice…
same belief…
same love for Purdue.
He stayed when others would’ve left.
Built when others would’ve reset.
Led when it hurt the most.
Because this was never just a job.
This was home.
Tonight… you can feel it.
All those years.
All those teams.
All those moments that shaped him.
The good guy.
The steady one.
The coach who poured everything into these players and asked only for their trust.
One game from Indy.
One game from the Final Four.
One game from a moment that feels bigger than basketball.
And somewhere in that arena…
he’ll stand the same way he always has.
Calm.
Composed.
Heart full.
Not for himself…
but for every player who believed in him.
This isn’t just their moment.
It’s his too.
Coach Painter, leader of men.
Boiler up 🚂
For Chris.
For Carsen.
For the Baby Boilers.
For Gene.
For all of those that paved the way.
For all of those that walked so we could run.
For all of those who fell short.
For Purdue.