#and i got into spinal tap bc of a long story which i will be twlling you now so i got back into sabbath as u alr know and read geezer's

[elektroblues]

life update theyre gonna have to surgically remove the part of my brain that makes me attracted to bill ward bc im still deep into that shit . man

[sarrie]

word vomit venting bc apparently the privacy fence of mental illnesses have allowed emotions to seep through for the moment.

So I've mentioned this to a few folks, but haven't actually talked about it anywhere openly. Early last year my mom got diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's - she's turning 65 this year. Her symptoms aren't...bad per se - not what I know they will be as this disease progresses. We live about seven hours away, and while my partner and I have traveled to visit my folks a decent amount, it's been difficult to schedule them to come up here. Mostly because my father sort of routinely puts a damper on those plans. Like, don't get me wrong. Last year around this time when I had my hysterectomy my mom stayed with me for I think almost two weeks while I recovered. Then, earlier this year when Taylor had to go out of town for work she was able to stay with me while I was having some heart issues that we were trying to sort out. (Which is a rant in and of itself - primarily me, yelling at my primary care provider to listen to me when I say my thyroid medication is too high and I'm having bad side effects due to the above-average-dose he has me on but he says the bloodwork looks fine and now I may have damage to my heart because my resting bpm was 100+ for years BUT THAT'S, AGAIN, ANOTHER STORY.) But now my father is traveling a lot for work and leaving my mother alone at the house. Which, again, her symptoms aren't too terribly advanced, but there are things she loses and forgets and she becomes irritated and angered more easily by small things. There is also little to no support system for her there - if she needed something there are neighbors, but family is all too far away. The other thing is my father will be traveling for my mom's birthday, and I am trying to convince him to let her come stay with Tay and I so we can celebrate and she doesn't have to be alone on her birthday. But he says no, she has to stay there and take care of the house. And it is so frustrating to see him put her health on the back burner like this. They haven't even discussed future care plans yet which, while morbid and sad and nobody wants to think about it, needs to be done when rational decisions can be made and we don't have to panic and quickly make choices that we maybe don't want. I am also offering to go there to stay with her for a week or however long I am able to, and my dad just says "No, no it's fine save it for later." But it comes off as, like, "hey no you can't come see your mom and I'm not letting her come visit you." It doesn't help that I am also realizing that, perhaps, my childhood wasn't healthy and my father played a large roll in that, lmfao. (He also recently told me he liked having me when I was a baby because I didn't do anything, but didn't like it when I got older. So there's that.) They, primarily my father, kept my mother's diagnosis from me for months. They knew about the Alzheimer's for months, and I knew that my mom was getting a full work-up to check, including a spinal tap and lots of bloodwork and imaging, but they just left me hanging. I would call and ask almost every day if they got results from the tests, or if the doctor they were seeing gave an official diagnosis, and they just kept saying 'nope, nothing.' Before this, my mom had surgery for a minor colon spot that was cancerous, and her post-op stay was horrendous. She was taking her leads off and wandering the hospital confused, and people couldn't get through to her and she kept trying to escape and my dad just straight up didn't tell me for almost a year. I could have visited and helped. He could have actually stayed the night so she wasn't waking up confused and scared and alone, especially when it came to light that they weren't taking the best care of her, and were overdosing her on opioids and other pain meds. And just last week my dad was, again on travel, barely an hour north of where I live. And he didn't tell me. We could have driven up and had dinner with him one night this week, especially because he's doing a class that is over in the late afternoon/early evening. I think I last saw him around Christmas? I just!! don't like the feeling of trying to enjoy the time I have left with my folks and my father just doesn't seem to want to be a part of it or allow it. And I'm worried for my mom being left alone so much.

[mypotsielife]

Hey y'all

I know you're dying for an update 🙃 even though I'm pretty sure only 2 people still follow this blog.

So the night of my spinal tap, I was uncomfortable but thats probably because a huge needle was shoved into my spine. Nothing unbearable. I woke up the next morning and decided I needed mac and cheese for breakfast (dont judge my life choices 👀). The more I moved, the more my back really started to hurt. I chalked it up to "large needle in spine. Muscles arent happy bout it". But it just kept getting worse. By about noon I couldnt walk from the pain.

My mom took me to ER. They shot me up with 2mg dilaudid, it did absolutely nothing for me. (Which is shocking bc before this the strongest pain medication I've ever had was tylenol. Not even tylenol with codeine. Just plain tylenol or ibuprofen). Then they eventually admitted me. They started giving me fentanyl. Which is 100x stronger than morphine and 50x stronger than heroin. That sucker still didnt knock the pain out. (And I'm honestly shocked it didnt snow me bc my body's not used to that kind of meds). They gave it to me every two hours just to keep the pain at a 5-6.

My MRI came back clear. The doc said they assume they damaged a nerve during the spinal tap. The way he described it was "you know when you're in a pool and you try to get a leaf out? Each time you grab for it, it moves. Because your hand causes water displacement and moves the leaf. The same happens during a spinal tap. The needle causes water displacement and normally moves the nerves out of the way. But when you felt that sharp pain and your legs go numb for a few seconds, that was ys hitting a nerve. We hopped we had just brushed it. But it seems like it was damaged. And when you finally got up and started moving around, you damaged it further".

Anyway. Long story short. I spent Thursday till Monday in the hospital. I'm now on gabapentin three times a day for nerve pain. Flexril three times a day for muscle relaxers because my back muscles keep spasming (they did ativan at first. I dont remenber the entirety of friday because of it 😂). And norco 4-6 hrs for the pain. I've been avoiding the norco since it's a narcotic and been taking 500mg naproxen three times a day. The pains still at a 5-7 depending on what I do. I can only take about 5-12 steps with a walker. it's been a fun time 🙃 #not

Anyway. That's my life update.

[bouffees]

LDL and lp(a) concern among other health symptoms

Hello all - my bf recently got blood results back (numbers listed below) that have him very concerned. He is 30 y/o, ~185 lbs, 6’1’’, pretty fit and active (regular cardio and weight training), has been eating pretty healthy as of late. Long story short, about 3 months ago he started to experience some weird bodily symptoms - numbness tingling/pins and needle that started in his left arm, moved to his right arm, then his feet and the lower facial (mainly jaw) region. There isn’t any pain but he can feel it and it’s on and off. He usually feels it in his arm or jaw area now. He then started to experience some on and off chest and back pain after (more around the traps), which we think may have been caused by stress and anxiety. He has seen a number of doctors (neurologists, cardiologists, GPs, GI doc) and has done a number of tests (MRI, lumbar puncture, spinal tap, echo stress test, complete echo, celiac) and all of them have come back negative and normal. With his echocardiogram the cardiologist said it was completely normal and there was no sign of blockage. Even though the majority of tests have come back negative (and we’ve ruled out a lot of things at this point), he is convinced something is still wrong based on what he’s feeling.

Recently he ordered some other blood tests on his own through Quest Diagnostic (Cardio IQ). I wanted to post screenshots of the results but it won’t let me share photos. Here are the numbers that have him concerned since some are out of the normal range:

LDL particle (nmol/L): 1664 LDL small: 345 LDL medium: 415 HDL large: 5963 LBL pattern: B LDL peak size: 216.2 Lp(a): 157 H

I’ll also include lipid panel w/ ratios in case helpful:

Cholesterol: 159 HDL cholesterol: 43 Triglycerides: 72 LDL cholesterol: 100 CHOL/HDLC ratio: 3.7 LDL/HDL ratio: 2.3 Non HDL cholesterol: 116

I was wondering if anyone has knowledge around these numbers or general guidance/thoughts on this. I hate to see my bf in this state of worry and stress bc he is typically a very even-keeled, low stress, logical, happy person. The most frustrating part is just not knowing what this could be or what could be causing this all..which is why I’m here posting this and going down the Reddit rabbit hole lol. It’s probably helpful to know a week before the onset of symptoms he did get sick with what we think was covid (tests said negative but we are convinced we both had it bc we have had it before and it was the same symptoms). So a part of us thinks this could definitely be related to covid/long covid/weird post covid symptoms. If you need me to provide any additional context or other numbers from the blood tests I can do that. Many thanks in advance, hope to figure this all out soon!

submitted by /u/Substantial-Juice199 [link] [comments] from For issues related to heart disease, cardiac health and cholesterol control https://ift.tt/hpfR1qA

[lifeinliminality]

BC/AD

I want to tell this story. I think it is important to tell, especially in this moment—when collectively we are straining against the changes wrought by a global pandemic.

Maybe I should start by saying that sometimes stories are something you’ve been working on in your life for years. You’ve crafted and cultivated it. Nurtured and pruned it to your liking. But this story was thrust upon me. This story began in an instant and I could do nothing but see it play out, catch up to its lightning speed pace, and hold on for dear life.

This story began on January 13, 2018 at approximately 11:30pm. It began with a sleeping child on a gurney in a hospital emergency room with his worried parents and a hesitant ER doctor.

While holding my sleeping child, I was given the worst news you could imagine: “He has blasts in his blood. When a child has these blasts it points to leukemia or lymphoma. We’ll be admitting your son tonight.” Cancer. Six letters that spell something life changing.

I remember a teacher once describing the difference between B.C. and A.D. when referring to dates in a history book. When I was a child, I used to think about it as “Before Christ” and “After Death” (meaning Christ’s death). I always thought it was such a strange and monumental way to mark time. Now, it doesn’t seem so strange. Our lives are literally divided into B.C., “Before Cancer” and A.D. “After Diagnosis.” But I’m getting ahead of myself.

For all we knew, our son was a healthy and happy almost three year old. He was a younger brother and would soon become a big brother—just two months prior to this night we had discovered we were pregnant with our third child. He liked Paw Patrol and playing soccer and other sports. An old soul from birth, our middle child both impressed and challenged my husband and I with his iron-strong will.

He had gotten a cold shortly before Christmas. But unlike before, he didn’t bounce back to his normal effervescent self. He got pale, was emotional, lost his appetite and after we spent the night of January 12th up every hour with him moaning, my husband decided to take him to the pediatric urgent care. I had to go to work that afternoon. I run a community wide children’s program in Montclair, New Jersey. My husband said he’d take both boys to the urgent care if he still wasn’t better after his afternoon nap. I met them there that evening after the event, in time to hold my son down while they fished around for a vein from which to draw blood. I hate getting blood drawn. When I was a child, I’d had to be held down because my younger brother was sick and they wanted to make sure I was okay. It traumatized me. But more than having my blood drawn, I hated having to be the one holding my child down for this. Little did I know that this would become a routine part of our existence.

While I waited with our middle son for the blood results, the other two hit up Smashburger in the strip mall next door. It was dinner time now and we were anticipating a rush once we left the urgent care to get our kids fed and ready for bed. Instead, the doctor came in and asked if there was someone local who could take care of our older son while we went to the pediatric emergency room. She was very specific: take him to [redacted for privacy]; no, you cannot go home and eat dinner with your children first. And don’t Google anything. I remember how strange that comment was—mostly because I didn’t even know what I would Google. She hadn’t told us anything about the blood results, only that we needed to go immediately to the Pediatric ER and that she’d called ahead.

We called our pastor, and his wife came over to stay with my oldest until my sister could get out to us from Long Island City.

My husband and I spent the 20-minute car ride to the emergency room trying to distract our two year old with his favorite song at the time: I’m Still Standing from the movie SING! An Elton John classic. It instantly became our mantra in the days ahead.

So there we were, the ER doctor just left the room after dropping the cancer bombshell us. I instantly started weeping, as did my husband. It was completely surreal. An orderly came in to wheel us up to the fifth floor of the hospital. We gathered our things. I was on the gurney with our still sleeping boy. It was after midnight now. January 14th. I don’t think I fully processed that leukemia was cancer until I saw the sign “Pediatric Hematology/Oncology” painted over the door we entered on the fifth floor. It was a waking nightmare.

We were 23 days in the hospital after his initial diagnosis. The first few days were a whirl of tests, surgeries and a steady rotation of doctors, nurses, and specialists. There was paperwork to sign: releasing the doctors and hospital of liability if something happened to our child when he was under sedation for a port placement, spinal tap, and chemo infusions. There was a social worker, a nutritionist, and a flurry of texts from family members and friends as we slowly put the word out.

Around day seven we got another bombshell—type 1 diabetes. Yep. We got a “two-fer.” So not only were we learning all we could about acute lymphoblastic leukemia and fielding calls, texts, and emails from family, friends, and friends of friends who knew someone with leukemia, but we were learning how to take blood glucose readings through “finger sticks,” calculate insulin to carbohydrate ratios, and give manual insulin injections to our son. Our son lost 9 pounds—which on a tiny toddler body renders a child gaunt. He started to associate finger sticks and shots with eating, so naturally, he stopped wanting to eat. They had to put an NG tube in—a tube that goes up the nose, down the back of the throat and esophagus directly into the stomach, so that we could give him Pediasure if he didn’t eat. He caught a cold somewhere around week two, which meant isolating him to his hospital room. He rarely smiled, he mostly slept and cried about taking the few oral medications he had to take daily. By the time of discharge, he could barely walk. His muscles had atrophied from being in bed for so long. Our once very active child couldn’t even climb the stairs at home or get up from a sitting position without assistance.

The day after we were discharged we were right back in the outpatient clinic at the hospital wrapping up the first of five cycles of what is called Frontline Treatment. Each cycle, outside of that first month is 60 days. But it isn’t necessarily a straight 60 days through. Continuing treatment is tied to how a child’s blood counts (red and white blood cells, platelets, and immune cells) are doing. If they are too low, they won’t continue treatment. If they are dangerously low, you’ll be spending a full day in the clinic getting a blood or platelet transfusion. Some cycles require weekly visits to clinic, some daily. Some cycles had four day hospital admittances. It was a tsunami of information and so many appointments to keep track of, along with his diabetic appointments and my OB appointments. And when we weren’t at clinic we were at home. Our son could no longer be in his daycare. We had to forego his friends’ birthday parties and play dates. It took our boy 11 months to finish Frontline Treatment.

The isolation felt overpowering at times. The parts of life we had to give up, the ways we had to change our routines to protect his fragile immune system. We were in survival mode and mostly just trying to get through each day. He hit remission in May 2018. But while he had no detectable cancer cells in his blood, it didn’t mean there weren’t any—and we would have to complete three more years of treatment.

Fast forward to March 2020. Our son has been in what is called “long-term maintenance” for a little over two years (meaning 14 months more until we are off of treatment). He’s been thriving: back at school, managing his meds well, his endocrinology team has been very happy with how we’ve managed his diabetes amidst chemotherapy and steroid treatments . . .

We’d been increasingly worried about what we were hearing in the news about a novel virus: COVID-19. We pulled our middle child out of school a couple of days before the state stepped in and mandated stay in place orders. Suddenly, the whole world was navigating a BC/AD moment: Before Coronavirus/After Disease. Everyone’s lives were instantly changed; families were having to adjust their routines for a huge unknown. Gloves and masks and disinfectant: a norm in our lives for two years now, were becoming household staples.

During our son’s frontline treatment we did not have to follow recent practices to the extreme, but since the stay in place orders, so many of our friends and family have been reaching out. “So this is what this was like.” Yes. Yes, this is a lot like what we have navigated since our son was diagnosed with leukemia. It’s hard, right?

It is hard. And the collective grief that we are all processing as a result of losing jobs, daily routines, a sense of control, and even loved ones can be overwhelming at times. But always, always amidst the darkness, there is light. There is joy and gratitude that can be cultivated and expressed. There are acts of selflessness and generosity to be witnessed and to perform. This is the “brutiful” gift of a situation like this. And really, this is an opportunity to pause and take stock of what is essential to our human existence and to a life well lived.

Nobody asked for this. Nobody wants it. But we find ourselves in the midst of it anyway. What we do and how we hold space in this time is what will matter moving forward. It will be part of our story. That is all I can offer you. In these BC/AD moments, there isn’t a simple solution or even a lot of answers. But I do know this, we will make it through. Life moving forward will not be the same. It can’t be. But we will find our new normal. My hope? That the new normal will mean that we seek and cultivate community more. That we realize we have all been helped by others and that we NEED others to make it through this life. That we have more generosity and compassion for one another because we are more aware that we’ve all been through some shit. Selah.

[junker-town]

Coastal Carolina joins FBS with the most interesting coach in college football

2017’s 130-team preview series begins by welcoming the Chanticleers to the party.

"My story is 10 times better than the Rudy story," Moglia says. "Rudy's a tough kid in the city, Chicago kid that wanted to go to Notre Dame. That's it."

In 1983, Joe Yukica's Dartmouth Big Green went 4-5-1, playing pretty good defense but scoring 17 or fewer in each loss. To that point, Yukica had gone 23-11-1 in Ivy League play over his five years in Hanover. But the trend was growing negative.

In 1984, with a new defensive coordinator, the Big Green fell to 2-7, allowing 38 points per game over the first four games and never recovering. In 1985, following another two-win campaign, Yukica was fired ... and then unfired. He sued to force the school to uphold his contract, which expired after 1986, and he somehow won. He won three games in 1986 and retired on his own terms.

That Yukica was able to overrule his own firing was the most noteworthy thing about his tenure. He never recovered from losing his defensive coordinator following the 1983 season.

That DC was a 34-year-old named Joe Moglia. He had six years of coordinator experience, but he pursued a different calling, one that actually paid a little bit. He went to work for Merrill Lynch and within a couple of decades became CEO of what is now TD Ameritrade. And then he went back to his football roots.

In 2008, Moglia decided he wasn't done with coaching after all. He retired as CEO and became an unpaid assistant for Bo Pelini. As one does.

Moglia volunteered at Nebraska, became head coach of the UFL's Omaha Nighthawks for a year, then took on the head coaching job at Coastal Carolina.

Moglia has gone from the Ivy League to Wall Street to Nebraska to the outskirts of Myrtle Beach.

He has been the subject of profile pieces from the New York Times, Sports Illustrated, and Grantland, to name a few. If there's one thing he knows, it's taking an uncertain leap. And now his employer will do the same.

It’s rather on-brand for Moglia to oversee Coastal’s leap to FBS. The school didn’t have a football program until 2003, when Moglia was overseeing Ameritrade acquisitions. He is just the second coach in program history, and he didn’t waste a moment proving himself as a program leader.

The Chanticleers improved from 7-4 to 8-3 in 2012, his first season. Since then, they’ve averaged an 11-2 record and twice finished in the FCS top 10. In both 2013 and 2014, they reached the FCS quarterfinals but had the misfortune of drawing North Dakota State. In 2014, they nearly beat the Bison.

So now it’s Sun Belt time. It’s easy for a program to mistime its jump to FBS — you have to call your shot at least a couple of years out, meaning you have time to fall off pace or make a bad hire. UMass and Western Kentucky were successful FCS programs but hit FBS with a dull thud. WKU rebounded, but it took a few years. UMass is still looking for traction.

Others have done just fine. New conference mates Georgia Southern and Appalachian State have been in FBS for six combined seasons and won at least nine games in four of them. Old Dominion and South Alabama were bowling by their third seasons in FBS.

At this point, UMass is an outlier. If you are doing well in FCS when you make the jump, odds are pretty good that you’ll find FBS to your liking.

And Coastal Carolina was doing quite well.

2016 in review

CCU wasn't eligible for the FCS playoffs in 2016 due to transition rules, but the Chanticleers were as solid as ever. They went 10-2, losing only to excellent Jacksonville State and Charleston Southern teams by a combined two points.

On the road against JSU, four different Chanticleers threw passes as Coastal fell victim to quarterback injuries. But Coastal still led 26-20 until JSU scored with 6:44 left.

Against Charleston Southern, the offense wasn’t an issue: The Chanticleers averaged 7.4 yards per play and raced ahead 21-7 after one quarter. After falling behind at halftime, they took a 35-30 lead heading into the fourth. After CSU took the lead back, CCU’s Ryan Granger forced overtime with a 35-yard field goal. The teams traded scores, but after Kenneth Daniels got the ‘Cleers to within 59-58 with a touchdown in the second overtime, Granger’s PAT attempt was blocked. CSU survived.

Average score of Coastal’s other 10 games: CCU 36, Opponent 15.

The Chanticleer offense has averaged at least 34 per game in every year of Moglia’s tenure, and the defense has come around over the last three years. CCU allowed a Moglia-low 5.1 yards per play in 2016, good enough to offset some quarterback issues.

Offense

Okay, let’s back up. “Some quarterback issues” doesn’t really cut it.

I hate to use my one allotted “exploding Spinal Tap drummers” reference this early in the preview series, but it might not ever be more applicable.

Three-star QB-of-the-future Chance Thrasher was lost with a shoulder injury in fall camp.

Sophomore Josh Stilley took over and got hurt in Week 3 against Jacksonville State. Freshman Avery McCall came in and also got hurt. He redshirted.

Junior and career backup Tyler Keane made it 105 passes before injuring his ankle.

Freshmen Austin Bradley and Ryan Lee took over. Bradley couldn’t really run, and Lee couldn’t really pass — he threw three passes while rushing 73 times. He will play receiver in 2017.

You can forgive the offense for slumping to 37 points per game and 5.8 yards per play.

Coordinator Dave Patenaude’s plans to move to more of a pass-first attack went out the window early in the cavalcade of QB injuries. Instead, Coastal leaned heavily (and with great effect) on the run. A foursome of backs — De’Angelo Henderson, Kenneth Daniels, Osharmar Abercrombie, and Jah-Maine Martin — averaged 32 carries and 187 yards per game. Lee provided a jolt as well.

Patenaude’s improv act was good enough to earn him a promotion. He took the Temple coordinator job. In his place, Moglia called in a ringer: Jamey Chadwell, Charleston Southern's head coach. Chadwell won 35 games in Charleston and reached the FCS playoffs twice in four years, but the draw of the FBS leap was strong.

Photo by Jared Wickerham/Getty Images

Former BC back Marcus Outlow joins the CCU backfield in 2107.

Chadwell’s 2016 offense at CSU averaged 44 carries and only 17 passes per game. The Buccaneers were prolific, but it will be interesting to see what Chadwell attempts with his two leading rushers and basically 3.5 offensive line starters gone.

Something else interesting to watch: the redshirts.

Per the 247Sports Composite, Moglia’s 2016 recruiting class featured five three-star recruits and three high-twos. Not bad for a startup. Five of those play on offense, and four redshirted: McCall (involuntarily), running back Victor Greene, and receivers Larry Collins Jr. and Jay King II.

These players and Boston College transfer Marcus Outlow could give the Chanticleers a nice boost of athleticism in the skill positions. Plus, returnees like Abercrombie and Martin (combined: 5.6 yards per carry) and receiver Chris Jones (22 catches, 323 yards) could offset the loss of two leading rushers and two of three leading wideouts.

Find the right quarterback — and goodness knows they come in all shapes, sizes, and styles, from the pro-style Thrasher to the dual-threat McCall to Syracuse transfer Austin Wilson — and you might be able to implement whatever style you want.

At least, you can if you figure things out up front. Coastal has FBS-caliber size on the line; four returnees with starting experience (26 career starts) average 6’4, 300 pounds. But depth and experience were both depleted by graduation.

If 6’4, 305-pound JUCO transfer Kenneth Sims is a keeper, and if a three-star freshman or two are ready to stick in the rotation, maybe the line will be alright. But Coastal finished 2016 with 136 career starts and begins 2017 with 26. That’s quite a drop-off.

Defense

Moglia has basically put together an FCS all-star team on his coaching staff. Chadwell's bona fides are impressive, and a year ago Moglia named Mickey Matthews, head coach of James Madison's 2004 national title team, his defensive coordinator. Matthews led JMU for 15 years and won an FCS national title as Marshall's defensive coordinator in 1992 as well.

In Matthews' first season, the Chanticleers allowed 0.7 fewer yards per play (from 5.8 in 2015 to 5.1) and picked off 15 more passes than the year before. Their 19.2 percent havoc rate would have ranked 14th in the country at the FBS level. And a few of the reasons for this successful aggression return in 2017.

A few don’t, of course. Linebacker Alex Scearce (13.5 tackles for loss, eight sacks, 12 passes defensed) was Mr. Everything but ran out of eligibility. So did four of the top five tacklers in the secondary — and as we’ve seen, turnover in the secondary can be deadly for a defense.

Still, there’s a decent base of experience. Injury and shuffling led to nine defensive backs recording at least 10 tackles; five return, and all five are either juniors or seniors, including Kent State transfer Eric Church.

There are also some play-makers. Ends Marcus Williamson and Myles White combined for 15.5 tackles for loss and seven sacks in 2016, middle linebacker Shane Johnson combined 5.5 non-sack TFLs with three passes defensed, and junior Anthony Chesley (2.5 TFLs, two interceptions, eight breakups) immediately becomes one of the Sun Belt’s better cornerbacks.

Plus, like the offense, the defense could get an athleticism boost from redshirts and new signees: 2016 signees Silas Kelly (linebacker), Darrell Malone Jr. (cornerback), and Calvin Smith (safety) were all mid- to high-two-star recruits, and 2017 signees Tay Pringle (tackle), Michael Makins (linebacker), and Cantorian Weems (defensive back) were three-star guys.

Special Teams

It’s a mixed bag. Punter Evan Rabon’s kicks aren’t particularly long, but they are high and mostly unreturnable. And while sophomore return man Ky’Jon Tyler is all-or-nothing, the alls are impressive: He returned 12 kickoffs and punts in 2016, and two went for touchdowns.

Plus, while Masamitsu Ishibashi almost never gets the ball in the end zone on kickoffs, opponents averaged under 19 yards per return last year. There is value in high kicks, and CCU kicks ‘em high.

If Granger hadn’t run out of eligibility, this would be one of the league’s better special teams units.

2017 outlook

2017 Schedule & Projection Factors

Date Opponent Proj. S&P+ Rk Proj. Margin Win Probability 2-Sep Massachusetts 111 1.9 54% 16-Sep at UAB 130 12.2 76% 23-Sep Western Illinois NR 9.6 71% 4-Nov at Arkansas 32 -24.6 8% TBD Georgia Southern 98 -1.0 48% TBD Georgia State 113 2.4 56% TBD Texas State 129 12.3 76% TBD Troy 79 -6.7 35% TBD at Appalachian State 62 -18.7 14% TBD at Arkansas State 83 -10.5 27% TBD at Idaho 119 -2.0 45% TBD at UL-Monroe 121 -0.7 48%

Projected S&P+ Rk 114 Projected Off. / Def. Rk 96 / 113 Projected wins 5.6 2-Year Recruiting Rk 130 2016 TO Margin / Adj. TO Margin* +11 / +4.3 2016 TO Luck/Game +2.8 Returning Production (Off. / Def.) 48% (55%, 41%)

For a newbie, Coastal gets some respect from S&P+. And really, that shouldn’t be much of a surprise. The Chanticleers ranked 101st in Sagarin last year. The next three FBS teams above them: NIU, Ohio, and UTSA, two bowl teams and a team that finished 5-7 in the MAC. The next three FBS teams below them: Arizona, Hawaii, and Miami (Ohio), two bowl teams and a Pac-12 program.

Coastal is projected 114th in S&P+, and it would be higher if not for the turnover in the secondary and the receiving corps. That results in quite a few tossups — CCU has between a 45 and 56 percent chance of winning in five games. Find a quarterback and establish a run game, and the odds of bowling in Year 1 are strong.

Moglia really is the perfect coach to lead a charge into FBS. It took him virtually no time to build an FCS stalwart, and his odd-as-hell résumé will help to generate a little bit of extra attention for CCU. And his Chanticleers aren’t that many ifs away from hitting the ground running at a pretty high speed.

Coastal Carolina preview stats

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