Newlyweds Can't Room Together on Road

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

By WILL GRAVES, AP Sports Writer

LOUISVILLE, Ky. — 

Yet the University of Louisville has managed to do what fate has not: separate the newlyweds their teammates on the school's track team have affectionately dubbed "Team Turland." Turns out university rules forbid male and female athletes from sharing a room on road trips, married folks included.

So the two weight throwers, who each won a Big East title at the conference championships last month, will spend this weekend's NCAA Indoor Championships in Fayetteville, Ark., sharing a room with a teammate, not their soul mate.

Not that they're complaining. Besides, having separate rooms means Emily, 22, won't have to worry about tripping over 25-year-old Arthur's clothes on the way to the bathroom.

Close your eyes and listen to the Turlands talk and you can't tell if they've been married 18 months or 18 years. They finish each other's sentences, laugh at each other's jokes and are puzzled that someone would think it odd that they're married.

"We didn't really change," Arthur said. "You just kind of hang out with someone, go grocery shopping and do the everyday things."

It's a boy meets girl story with a twist. For most college students, the story goes "Boy meets Girl, Boy and Girl date, Boy and Girl wait until after college to tie the knot."

For the Turlands, it was Boy meets Girl. Boy and Girl spend a lot of time throwing large objects great distances. Girl tries just about everything she can to get Boy to ask her out, Boy doesn't take the hint.

"I called him up to play him (in racquetball) and I asked him and he's like, 'Oh, no, my knee, it hurts sometime when I play racquetball," she said. "I set him up and he turned me down."

"I didn't clue in," Arthur said. "I didn't think she was interested in me."

Frustrated, Girl resorts to getting Boy to notice her the old-fashioned way: by telling a friend who tells a friend who tells Boy that Girl thinks he's cute.

The ice finally broken, they dated two years before Arthur surprised Emily with a proposal before Valentine's Day 2005. They were married on Emily's family farm eight months later.

Things haven't changed much since they exchanged vows, even as they've become two of the best throwers in the nation. Other than getting the occasional "excuse me Mr. and Mrs. Turland" from their teammates, they're still just Emily and Arthur.

"You don't even really think about it," said throws coach Dale Cowper.

A hot night at home usually includes a little video review of a practice session for a couple who, when they talk about the "ball and chain" actually are talking about a ball and chain. They'll critique each other's technique and admit they've been influenced by the other's throwing style.

The only place they really don't mimic each other is when they're in the throwing circle. Where Emily remains relatively calm, blocking everything out as she enter the circle, Arthur develops a bit of an attitude.

"On days when he's really performing well and he thinks he can make some special things happen, he's pretty intense," Cowper said. "After a big throw Arthur will get loud and Emily will just walk out of the ring like it's no big thing."

Usually, anyway. But even Emily said she felt a little bit of pressure after watching Arthur win the Big East title with a throw of 68 feet, 3 1/4 inches at the indoor championships in Akron on Feb. 17. Though they say they're not really competitive with each other, they're still athletes. Besides, she didn't want to be the one in the house who didn't win a conference championship.

"You're a little nervous at first," she said. "But being nervous to a certain degree helps. You're excited, it gets your adrenaline going if you can channel it."

It helps when your best friend happens to be right there. On her third throw, Emily launched the weight 66-0 1/2 for the biggest win of her career.

During the medal ceremony, the presenter asked if she was Arthur's sister. When the answer came back they were married, the presenter decided something had to be done to commemorate the occasion.

Medals draped around their necks, Team Turland was brought back to the medal stand, where their unusual feat was announced as they blushed and gave it their usual "aw shucks" treatment. Their celebration consisted of a wrestling match in the snow at a rest stop on their way back to campus following the meet.

They have a picture of the moment on the awards stand somewhere in their off-campus apartment, the one where Arthur does most of the cooking and Emily reminds her husband there's such a thing as too many dirty clothes lying in the hallway.

One day _ a couple years after Emily graduates with a double major in accounting and equine administration _ they'll do something with the photo, just to prove to their future children that Mom and Dad used to be cool.

That's a long way off, though both admit their parents have already started asking about when the grandchildren are coming. The kids will have to wait. There's weights to lift and degrees to earn and meets to win.

"We're in no hurry," Emily said with a laugh. "We don't even have time to have a dog yet."

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