ManFrizzle

All Heart, Grit, Grind. Lucky dad and husband. Rutgers Football take quakes all day. My Wi-Fi network is named “Schiano”.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@Alsboringtweets @sittin_sideway @rami_lavi Here’s a comparison, one was convicted and one wasn’t. What is your point?

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@spectre0799 You people have an illness. Enjoy the music.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@iamMarshh @NetsDaily I mean this point is somehow completely ignored in his tweet. The state shouldn’t be doing anything like that with money that isn’t theirs.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@BelovedBone I went to this show and I was one of the only people in the seats for Kendrick. I knew him and loved (still do) him but it was EMPTY, vast majority of people in New Orleans had zero idea who he was.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@PeteThamel An article that says literally nothing, thank you.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@RayLauletti @CJTDevil Tell me you’re clueless without telling me you’re clueless

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@briannnnf if you had mentioned he actually led that comment by degrading Penn State, I’ve got news for you…we like it.

[Rutgers Football @NJ_RutgersFB]

Donald Trump mentioned Rutgers during his Saving College Sports roundtable, and university officials are not going to like what he said. https://t.co/QifiRGkeyF

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@JamesKratch @ruscoop All of the above. If a company grew its revenue 2-3x and had less profitability with zero CAPEX, CEO would be fired. All the money just going to administrative state which is consistent with academia overall.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@Gwk1313 @chrisfallica Yes just throw it up, good call. They have to win the battles to get guys open to throw to them. No one’s open. Throw it deep and the games over when they start turning you over.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@RUScrewPod Not to mention, anything there including a kids juice or milk is like $5. I go there with my 6 year old son for lunch to get him the shake. It was only good for one day so missed that. A burger and fries, a grilled cheese, and one drink for me cost almost $40. Place is awful.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

Bradley Weaver is a beast today.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

Articles like this are precisely why it’s so important Scott Galloway is shedding light on this issue. It’s not zero sum, that all understanding and support of men is at the cost of women. This is the definition of identity politics.

[Malcolm Harris @BigMeanInternet]

Excellent piece on the alleged crisis of men, asks the right questions https://t.co/AN27xiojWj

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@RutgersRant Penn State -6.5

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@StevePoliti Steve, SOMEONE in that pool needs to get after Greg today the way some of the other teams do after their team loses one game. This is putrid. You cannot allow a “We’ll get there” to be said without followup today.

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

People in the bubble are clueless.

[Adam Breneman @AdamBreneman81]

When you fire James Franklin - who was one play away from the national title game last year, with all his success and a $50M buyout - you’re not just making a change. You’re going after a program-defining hire.

My short list ⬇️

- Curt Cignetti
- Marcus Freeman
- Alex Golesh
- Brent Key
- Dabo Swinney
- Lane Kiffin
- Dan Mullen
- Clark Lea
- Ryan Silverfield
- Jon Gruden
- Matt Campbell

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@ruscoop @MikeBbent Mike we gave up a record amount of yards to UW.

[Travis Akers 🇺🇸 @travisakers]

A message from a Kindergarten teacher:

After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:

“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”

No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”

My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.

When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.

But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.

My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.

And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.

They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.

The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”

As if kindness were a weakness.

Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”

Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.

But this last year broke something in me.

The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.

I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.

So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:

“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”

I sat on the floor and cried.

No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.

I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.

I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.

So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.

Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.

[Matt Brown @MattBrownEP]

Whenever anybody in college sports talks about revenue generation...be that private equity, capital, new sponsorships, raising ticket prices, etc....I think we (fans and reporters) need to push more on WHY and for WHAT.

Money isn't the end goal.
https://t.co/PXCgLEKPMB

[ManFrizzle @ManFrizzle]

@PutOnForJersey Don’t let these wolves into your pasture pal. They are operating at a significant deficit and the way to fix that is cost control, not mortgaging your future and giving away your assets.