Mike

March 27, 2004: 2-seed Oklahoma State beats Jameer Nelson, Delonte West & 1-seed Saint Joseph’s to send the Cowboys to the Final Four #GoPokes

157 | LANDON ROBIDEAU ARE YOU KIDDING?!?!?! No. 5 Robideau dec. No. 1 Duke (PSU), 3-1, TB-1 #GoPokes

𝗛𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗛𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟲 We are excited to announce the inductees for the 2026 Oklahoma State Athletics Hall of Honor class. 🤠 Read more here ➡️ okla.st/4lxn6wb

✅ All-American ✅ Big 12 Player of the Year ✅ 2004 Final Four ✅ 2008 NBA Champion ✅ 6× NBA All-Defensive Team ✅ OSU Athletics Hall of Honor Congratulations, @aa000G9!

@stephaniestwdds Thank you, Steph! It’s pretty easy when it’s something you’re so passionate about. Those guys were the best and I miss them terribly.

Not a better person to serve this role at OSU. Keep making us proud, @Mike_Noteware 🧡🖤

Another chance to spread our story. 🔗 okstate.com/RT10

Oklahoma State left the sideline spotless. Appreciate you guys 🫡 @OSUAthletics

"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces. But I see everything. Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments. One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?" "6:15," he said, confused. "Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it." He blinked. "You... you can do that?" "I can now," I said. Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?" "Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing." He cried. Right there in the parking lot. Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic. But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!" "Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel." He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us." The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over." Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it. But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note, "Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends" People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket. I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece." So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones. Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees. It's not glamorous. But it's everything." Let this story reach more hearts.... Credit: Mary Nelson

Dad surprises daughter fighting cancer by cutting off his dreadlocks he had grown for 9 years. Who’s crying 😭

An accidental discovery that can save lives

𝐀𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐢 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 Congratulations to 2003-06 alumna @Lace4121 for leading Mustang HS to a fastpitch state championship this fall! 🤠

What happens when you drink 10 oz of Magnesium Citrate? I’m glad you asked. Buckle up. 12:05 p.m. — It begins. You down the 10-ounce bottle like it’s a lukewarm PBR at a college tailgate. The label says “cherry flavored,” but it tastes like someone described cherry to a chemist who’s never eaten fruit. Regret sets in instantly. 12:06 p.m. — You grab a handful of chips for moral support. They’ll be liquified before they clear your throat, but who cares? Life still feels okay right now. Remember this peace. You’re about to enter the darkest chapter of your gastrointestinal history. 12:37 p.m. — The rumbling starts. There’s movement in the depths. You’ve got five pounds of impacted regret in your colon, and you just drank the “human-safe” version of Drano. You think it’s go time. It’s not. You get one sad little snake turd — a warm-up act. That’s the last semi-solid you’ll see for the next 24 hours. 12:57 p.m. — The situation escalates. Your stomach is in full revolt. You have 0.3 seconds to make it to the toilet. Running is risky business — one wrong step and you’ll paint the walls. You pray for sphincter strength like never before as you waddle at Mach 3, pants half down, whispering, “Please, God, not like this.” 12:58 p.m. — Impact. You sit, and the gates of hell open. The explosion is biblical. It hits the back of the bowl with such violent force it ricochets like a sprinkler system. You ask yourself, Is that blood? No — false alarm. Just the ghost of a cherry pie you ate in 2004. The smell is unspeakable. The acoustics? Terrifying. The neighbors think you’re performing an exorcism. 1:06 p.m. – 8:30 p.m. — Time becomes meaningless. You’ve evacuated everything you’ve ever eaten, plus a few ancestral meals for good measure. Your colon feels like it’s been sandblasted with lava. The burn is real. You’re sweating. Crying. Contemplating life. You meet Jesus briefly, but He sends you back — says your mission’s not over yet. 8:37 p.m. — You’re empty. Broken. Reborn. Your butthole? A war veteran. Your spirit? In recovery. You’ll never be the same, but you will survive. Tomorrow, you’ll rise from the ashes, slip into your last clean pair of underwear, and waddle into Walmart like a survivor of gastrointestinal warfare — to buy a new toilet brush and reclaim your dignity. You’ve earned it. Feeling thankful. 💩🙏

Come say 𝘩𝘦𝘺! 👋

With a win and 11 top-25 finishes this season, @OSUCowboyGolf alum Zach Bauchou has clinched his first @PGATOUR card for 2026! #TOURBound

Loyal and True… #commited 🤠

Congratulations to Sivan for being a CSC Academic All-American for the THIRD consecutive season! #GoPokes I #run4okstate

Be sure to check out Clem Night at Joe’s a week from tonight!

Never done one of these bar race graphs and thought it might be fun to see a timeline accumulation of Top8️⃣ Finishes in D1 #NCAAGolf history Think I will do the same for men's and women's D1-3 very soon

VIKTOR HOVLAND. UNREAL SHOT FROM THE ROUGH. 🤯🔥 📺 NBC & Peacock | #USOpen

SAVED. HIS. BEST. FOR. LAST. 🥈 Blair Anderson takes SECOND PLACE at the NCAA Outdoor Championships with an all-conditions personal best of 8.02 meters (+2.4) 🤯 #GoPokes I #NCAATF