Latest news with #Stillwater


Tom's Guide
7 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Tom's Guide
New on Apple TV Plus in August 2025 — all the shows and movies to watch
Summer is just flying by, and a new month is almost here. That means Apple TV Plus (along with the rest of the best streaming services) is rolling out a new selection of movies and TV shows to celebrate the beginning of August. This month brings several high-profile returning favorites to the streamer, like the explosive third season of sci-fi drama "Invasion" and the beloved comedy series "Platonic" starring two of Hollywood's most likable comedic talents, Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne. That being said, there's also an epic new historical drama starring Jason Momoa that looks like a must-watch for fans of "Game of Thrones" and Shogun." Whether you're looking for family-friendly entertainment or want to put on something made strictly for adults, Apple TV Plus has plenty of options arriving this month. You can find more info about all the new Apple TV Plus releases coming your way in August 2025 below. Billed as a "passion project" for co-creators Jason Momoa and Thomas Pa'a Sibbett (who share native Hawaiian heritage), "Chief of War" tells the real-life-inspired story of Hawaii's unification on the cusp of the 19th century, during a period of looming colonization. It promises to be an epic historical drama that sheds light on a chapter of history often overlooked by Western media. Told from an indigenous perspective, the series centers on Kaʻiana (Momoa), a fierce warrior and noble, who returns home only to get swept into a brutal campaign to unite the islands against the foreign threat. The cast is predominantly Polynesian, and much of the dialogue is in 'Ōlelo Hawai'i, lending the show a level of cultural authenticity rarely seen in historical dramas. Following its two-episode premiere on August 1, "Chief of War' will release every Friday through September 19. Watch on Apple TV Plus from August 1 Get instant access to breaking news, the hottest reviews, great deals and helpful tips. "Stillwater," Apple's animated series based on children's author Jon J. Muth's acclaimed "Zen" books, is back to teach kids more important lessons about mindfulness. Each episode blends everyday childhood challenges with mindfulness practices, breathing exercises, and calm storytelling — an approach that has earned the series both a Peabody and a Daytime Emmy Award. "Stillwater" follows the titular wise panda (voiced by James Sie), who teaches three young siblings, Addy (Eva Ariel Binder), Michael (Tucker Chandler), and Karl (Judah Mackey), how to navigate everyday challenges and better understand their emotions. Through his example, stories, and gentle humor, Stillwater offers children tools to grow with empathy and resilience. Watch on Apple TV Plus from August 1 "Platonic's" first season earned this hit character-driven comedy a spot on our best Apple TV Plus shows list. Season 2 promises more laugh-out-loud moments with two of Hollywood's most effortlessly charming comedic talents, Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne. It follows two long-estranged besties, Sylvia (Byrne) and Will (Rogen), who reconnect over their shared midlife crises — much to the discomfort of everyone around them. After his messy divorce in season 1, Will enters a new relationship that threatens to throw the duo's already-fragile dynamic off balance. Determined not to let their friendship derail this time, they attempt to reel in their chaos and start doing more "normal" adult activities. Of course, for these two codependent idiots, that's easier said than done. Watch on Apple TV Plus from August 6 Apple's expansive sci-fi drama "Invasion" returns for season 3 this month, and war has officially arrived. It's all been leading up to this. Previous seasons showed an alien invasion unfold through the perspectives of ordinary people across the globe, each scrambling to survive as society unravels. In season 3, those perspectives collide for the first time as full-scale war erupts. Humanity's only hope to repel the alien threat is if everyone comes together. The international cast of characters we've met thus far pool their expertise to unite as an elite incursion unit on a high-stakes mission to infiltrate the looming alien mothership. As new bonds are formed and relationships tested, the survivors must learn to work as a team before time runs out or humanity's doomed. Watch on Apple TV Plus from August 22 Another show for the little ones, the award-winning"Shape Island" returns with more imaginative adventures in season 2. Based on the beloved books "Shapes" picture book trilogy by Mac Barnett and Jon Klassen, this stop-motion animated series follows the aptly named Square, Triangle, and Circle. The trio embarks on adventures, solves puzzles, and builds their friendship — all while learning to understand and appreciate each other's differences. Because, as we all know, friendship comes in every shape and size. Season two features the returning voices of Yvette Nicole Brown ('Frog and Toad') as the narrator, Harvey Guillén ('Puss in Boots: The Last Wish') as Square, Scott Adsit ('Big Hero 6') as Triangle, and Gideon Adlon ('Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths') as Circle. Watch on Apple TV Plus from August 29 Follow Tom's Guide on Google News to get our up-to-date news, how-tos, and reviews in your feeds. Make sure to click the Follow button.


The Advertiser
a day ago
- General
- The Advertiser
Confessions of an accidental crime writer with imposter syndrome
If you'd asked me five years ago if I intended to write crime fiction, I would have either laughed awkwardly or given you a suspicious side-eye. Me, write crime? I'm a GP with special interests in mental health and education, not a detective or criminologist. The old adage of "write what you know" would suggest I write medical dramas or literary fiction about meaty philosophical topics. But sometimes, life has other ideas. I started a professional writing and editing course during the COVID-19 pandemic as an antidote to the chaos, an attempt to find some peace as the world lost its collective marbles. I'd always wanted to study writing, but the time was never right. It was pushed aside as I focused on a "real" career and family. After working in a respiratory clinic - swabbing noses in a drive-through marquee in the carpark, taking on the role of (mostly metaphorical) punching bag for a stressed and angry public - I took a time-out from medicine. I was burnt out and ready for a break. The course gave me crucial structure, and importantly for someone with my neurotype, it gave me deadlines. For the first time in my writing career, others read my words and offered feedback, which was humbling and wonderful. I felt the first glimmer of being a real writer. In medicine, there is often a defining moment where the role and identity of "doctor" clunks into place. For me, it was when I started training in general practice, after several years of floating around sub-specialties trying to find a fit. A patient with complex medical issues had returned for a follow-up appointment and made the off-hand comment that I was now her doctor. She was my patient. She was like a mirror, and my identity was a reflection of hers, an inverse dance. I was the doctor to her patient. A symbiosis. Similarly, I was not able to identify as a writer until I had readers to reflect that image. This is not to say that writing for yourself, in private, is without worth; anyone who writes is a writer. But for years, I struggled to use the word for myself, and if I did, I would qualify it with various adjectives - aspiring, closet, amateur - in an attempt to express my humility, my impostor syndrome, my Australian self-deprecation. One of my assessment tasks was a character study. The protagonist for Stillwater came to me fully formed, complete with backstory, flaws, needs and wants and goals. He was inspired by a discussion I had with a patient about how every person you meet is hiding something. Everyone has secrets; there are very few people who show their entire self to the world. For another class, I was asked to outline a novel. I took my complex character and wrote out his story; I wrote summaries of the chapters and thought that was that. And then the work started. Because, obviously, no plan survives contact with the enemy. My ambitious outline lasted as long as it took me to write the first chapter, which was eventually scrapped. As anyone who has ever tried to write a novel will attest, the first three to six chapters are often a warm up; the real story starts later than you think. It turns out that I am not a planner. I had to write the story to know what it was. My characters were disobedient and wouldn't stick to the script. This meant several rounds of iterative drafting and re-drafting as I realised what was working and what wasn't. Eventually, I wrote THE END and thought I was done. I got some feedback, changed a few things, and then thought, what now? I was lucky enough to send my manuscript to the right agent at the right time, and guess what - more feedback. So then, the work really started. There is a quote - Seneca, I believe - that a gem cannot be polished without friction. This is the most apt description of the editing process I've ever heard. Editing is all about cutting out what doesn't work to expose that which does, and then buffing it to make it shine. For a writer, there is definitely friction in this. It's hard to see shards of your story on the cutting-room floor. One of the biggest questions I had to answer was about genre. This was a rookie dilemma, one I should have put more thought into earlier. What was it that I'd written? It was a novel, but where did it fit in? Was it contemporary fiction? A coming-of-age story? A book needs a comfortable home on a shelf in a bookshop, alongside its family, in order to find the right reader. It came as a minor revelation to me that what I'd written fit best on the crime shelf. Yes, many of the characters are criminals. And there is maybe a murder. But I'd always thought of crime fiction as police procedural or cosy mystery, which Stillwater is not. In conversations since, many have asked why I chose to write crime, and my answer is: I didn't. It came about through experimentation, through following a story through to its logical conclusion and understanding the characters and their motivations - and it turns out that "write what you know" is still appropriate. The skills I've learned as a GP and counsellor translate well to crime: pattern recognition and analytical thinking, knowledge of the human body and psyche - not to mention a level of comfort with blood, gore and death. So while it was not my intention to write crime, that is indeed what I've done. I'm very happy to add another identity, as a crime writer, to my list - no awkward laughs or suspicious side-eye needed. If you'd asked me five years ago if I intended to write crime fiction, I would have either laughed awkwardly or given you a suspicious side-eye. Me, write crime? I'm a GP with special interests in mental health and education, not a detective or criminologist. The old adage of "write what you know" would suggest I write medical dramas or literary fiction about meaty philosophical topics. But sometimes, life has other ideas. I started a professional writing and editing course during the COVID-19 pandemic as an antidote to the chaos, an attempt to find some peace as the world lost its collective marbles. I'd always wanted to study writing, but the time was never right. It was pushed aside as I focused on a "real" career and family. After working in a respiratory clinic - swabbing noses in a drive-through marquee in the carpark, taking on the role of (mostly metaphorical) punching bag for a stressed and angry public - I took a time-out from medicine. I was burnt out and ready for a break. The course gave me crucial structure, and importantly for someone with my neurotype, it gave me deadlines. For the first time in my writing career, others read my words and offered feedback, which was humbling and wonderful. I felt the first glimmer of being a real writer. In medicine, there is often a defining moment where the role and identity of "doctor" clunks into place. For me, it was when I started training in general practice, after several years of floating around sub-specialties trying to find a fit. A patient with complex medical issues had returned for a follow-up appointment and made the off-hand comment that I was now her doctor. She was my patient. She was like a mirror, and my identity was a reflection of hers, an inverse dance. I was the doctor to her patient. A symbiosis. Similarly, I was not able to identify as a writer until I had readers to reflect that image. This is not to say that writing for yourself, in private, is without worth; anyone who writes is a writer. But for years, I struggled to use the word for myself, and if I did, I would qualify it with various adjectives - aspiring, closet, amateur - in an attempt to express my humility, my impostor syndrome, my Australian self-deprecation. One of my assessment tasks was a character study. The protagonist for Stillwater came to me fully formed, complete with backstory, flaws, needs and wants and goals. He was inspired by a discussion I had with a patient about how every person you meet is hiding something. Everyone has secrets; there are very few people who show their entire self to the world. For another class, I was asked to outline a novel. I took my complex character and wrote out his story; I wrote summaries of the chapters and thought that was that. And then the work started. Because, obviously, no plan survives contact with the enemy. My ambitious outline lasted as long as it took me to write the first chapter, which was eventually scrapped. As anyone who has ever tried to write a novel will attest, the first three to six chapters are often a warm up; the real story starts later than you think. It turns out that I am not a planner. I had to write the story to know what it was. My characters were disobedient and wouldn't stick to the script. This meant several rounds of iterative drafting and re-drafting as I realised what was working and what wasn't. Eventually, I wrote THE END and thought I was done. I got some feedback, changed a few things, and then thought, what now? I was lucky enough to send my manuscript to the right agent at the right time, and guess what - more feedback. So then, the work really started. There is a quote - Seneca, I believe - that a gem cannot be polished without friction. This is the most apt description of the editing process I've ever heard. Editing is all about cutting out what doesn't work to expose that which does, and then buffing it to make it shine. For a writer, there is definitely friction in this. It's hard to see shards of your story on the cutting-room floor. One of the biggest questions I had to answer was about genre. This was a rookie dilemma, one I should have put more thought into earlier. What was it that I'd written? It was a novel, but where did it fit in? Was it contemporary fiction? A coming-of-age story? A book needs a comfortable home on a shelf in a bookshop, alongside its family, in order to find the right reader. It came as a minor revelation to me that what I'd written fit best on the crime shelf. Yes, many of the characters are criminals. And there is maybe a murder. But I'd always thought of crime fiction as police procedural or cosy mystery, which Stillwater is not. In conversations since, many have asked why I chose to write crime, and my answer is: I didn't. It came about through experimentation, through following a story through to its logical conclusion and understanding the characters and their motivations - and it turns out that "write what you know" is still appropriate. The skills I've learned as a GP and counsellor translate well to crime: pattern recognition and analytical thinking, knowledge of the human body and psyche - not to mention a level of comfort with blood, gore and death. So while it was not my intention to write crime, that is indeed what I've done. I'm very happy to add another identity, as a crime writer, to my list - no awkward laughs or suspicious side-eye needed. If you'd asked me five years ago if I intended to write crime fiction, I would have either laughed awkwardly or given you a suspicious side-eye. Me, write crime? I'm a GP with special interests in mental health and education, not a detective or criminologist. The old adage of "write what you know" would suggest I write medical dramas or literary fiction about meaty philosophical topics. But sometimes, life has other ideas. I started a professional writing and editing course during the COVID-19 pandemic as an antidote to the chaos, an attempt to find some peace as the world lost its collective marbles. I'd always wanted to study writing, but the time was never right. It was pushed aside as I focused on a "real" career and family. After working in a respiratory clinic - swabbing noses in a drive-through marquee in the carpark, taking on the role of (mostly metaphorical) punching bag for a stressed and angry public - I took a time-out from medicine. I was burnt out and ready for a break. The course gave me crucial structure, and importantly for someone with my neurotype, it gave me deadlines. For the first time in my writing career, others read my words and offered feedback, which was humbling and wonderful. I felt the first glimmer of being a real writer. In medicine, there is often a defining moment where the role and identity of "doctor" clunks into place. For me, it was when I started training in general practice, after several years of floating around sub-specialties trying to find a fit. A patient with complex medical issues had returned for a follow-up appointment and made the off-hand comment that I was now her doctor. She was my patient. She was like a mirror, and my identity was a reflection of hers, an inverse dance. I was the doctor to her patient. A symbiosis. Similarly, I was not able to identify as a writer until I had readers to reflect that image. This is not to say that writing for yourself, in private, is without worth; anyone who writes is a writer. But for years, I struggled to use the word for myself, and if I did, I would qualify it with various adjectives - aspiring, closet, amateur - in an attempt to express my humility, my impostor syndrome, my Australian self-deprecation. One of my assessment tasks was a character study. The protagonist for Stillwater came to me fully formed, complete with backstory, flaws, needs and wants and goals. He was inspired by a discussion I had with a patient about how every person you meet is hiding something. Everyone has secrets; there are very few people who show their entire self to the world. For another class, I was asked to outline a novel. I took my complex character and wrote out his story; I wrote summaries of the chapters and thought that was that. And then the work started. Because, obviously, no plan survives contact with the enemy. My ambitious outline lasted as long as it took me to write the first chapter, which was eventually scrapped. As anyone who has ever tried to write a novel will attest, the first three to six chapters are often a warm up; the real story starts later than you think. It turns out that I am not a planner. I had to write the story to know what it was. My characters were disobedient and wouldn't stick to the script. This meant several rounds of iterative drafting and re-drafting as I realised what was working and what wasn't. Eventually, I wrote THE END and thought I was done. I got some feedback, changed a few things, and then thought, what now? I was lucky enough to send my manuscript to the right agent at the right time, and guess what - more feedback. So then, the work really started. There is a quote - Seneca, I believe - that a gem cannot be polished without friction. This is the most apt description of the editing process I've ever heard. Editing is all about cutting out what doesn't work to expose that which does, and then buffing it to make it shine. For a writer, there is definitely friction in this. It's hard to see shards of your story on the cutting-room floor. One of the biggest questions I had to answer was about genre. This was a rookie dilemma, one I should have put more thought into earlier. What was it that I'd written? It was a novel, but where did it fit in? Was it contemporary fiction? A coming-of-age story? A book needs a comfortable home on a shelf in a bookshop, alongside its family, in order to find the right reader. It came as a minor revelation to me that what I'd written fit best on the crime shelf. Yes, many of the characters are criminals. And there is maybe a murder. But I'd always thought of crime fiction as police procedural or cosy mystery, which Stillwater is not. In conversations since, many have asked why I chose to write crime, and my answer is: I didn't. It came about through experimentation, through following a story through to its logical conclusion and understanding the characters and their motivations - and it turns out that "write what you know" is still appropriate. The skills I've learned as a GP and counsellor translate well to crime: pattern recognition and analytical thinking, knowledge of the human body and psyche - not to mention a level of comfort with blood, gore and death. So while it was not my intention to write crime, that is indeed what I've done. I'm very happy to add another identity, as a crime writer, to my list - no awkward laughs or suspicious side-eye needed. If you'd asked me five years ago if I intended to write crime fiction, I would have either laughed awkwardly or given you a suspicious side-eye. Me, write crime? I'm a GP with special interests in mental health and education, not a detective or criminologist. The old adage of "write what you know" would suggest I write medical dramas or literary fiction about meaty philosophical topics. But sometimes, life has other ideas. I started a professional writing and editing course during the COVID-19 pandemic as an antidote to the chaos, an attempt to find some peace as the world lost its collective marbles. I'd always wanted to study writing, but the time was never right. It was pushed aside as I focused on a "real" career and family. After working in a respiratory clinic - swabbing noses in a drive-through marquee in the carpark, taking on the role of (mostly metaphorical) punching bag for a stressed and angry public - I took a time-out from medicine. I was burnt out and ready for a break. The course gave me crucial structure, and importantly for someone with my neurotype, it gave me deadlines. For the first time in my writing career, others read my words and offered feedback, which was humbling and wonderful. I felt the first glimmer of being a real writer. In medicine, there is often a defining moment where the role and identity of "doctor" clunks into place. For me, it was when I started training in general practice, after several years of floating around sub-specialties trying to find a fit. A patient with complex medical issues had returned for a follow-up appointment and made the off-hand comment that I was now her doctor. She was my patient. She was like a mirror, and my identity was a reflection of hers, an inverse dance. I was the doctor to her patient. A symbiosis. Similarly, I was not able to identify as a writer until I had readers to reflect that image. This is not to say that writing for yourself, in private, is without worth; anyone who writes is a writer. But for years, I struggled to use the word for myself, and if I did, I would qualify it with various adjectives - aspiring, closet, amateur - in an attempt to express my humility, my impostor syndrome, my Australian self-deprecation. One of my assessment tasks was a character study. The protagonist for Stillwater came to me fully formed, complete with backstory, flaws, needs and wants and goals. He was inspired by a discussion I had with a patient about how every person you meet is hiding something. Everyone has secrets; there are very few people who show their entire self to the world. For another class, I was asked to outline a novel. I took my complex character and wrote out his story; I wrote summaries of the chapters and thought that was that. And then the work started. Because, obviously, no plan survives contact with the enemy. My ambitious outline lasted as long as it took me to write the first chapter, which was eventually scrapped. As anyone who has ever tried to write a novel will attest, the first three to six chapters are often a warm up; the real story starts later than you think. It turns out that I am not a planner. I had to write the story to know what it was. My characters were disobedient and wouldn't stick to the script. This meant several rounds of iterative drafting and re-drafting as I realised what was working and what wasn't. Eventually, I wrote THE END and thought I was done. I got some feedback, changed a few things, and then thought, what now? I was lucky enough to send my manuscript to the right agent at the right time, and guess what - more feedback. So then, the work really started. There is a quote - Seneca, I believe - that a gem cannot be polished without friction. This is the most apt description of the editing process I've ever heard. Editing is all about cutting out what doesn't work to expose that which does, and then buffing it to make it shine. For a writer, there is definitely friction in this. It's hard to see shards of your story on the cutting-room floor. One of the biggest questions I had to answer was about genre. This was a rookie dilemma, one I should have put more thought into earlier. What was it that I'd written? It was a novel, but where did it fit in? Was it contemporary fiction? A coming-of-age story? A book needs a comfortable home on a shelf in a bookshop, alongside its family, in order to find the right reader. It came as a minor revelation to me that what I'd written fit best on the crime shelf. Yes, many of the characters are criminals. And there is maybe a murder. But I'd always thought of crime fiction as police procedural or cosy mystery, which Stillwater is not. In conversations since, many have asked why I chose to write crime, and my answer is: I didn't. It came about through experimentation, through following a story through to its logical conclusion and understanding the characters and their motivations - and it turns out that "write what you know" is still appropriate. The skills I've learned as a GP and counsellor translate well to crime: pattern recognition and analytical thinking, knowledge of the human body and psyche - not to mention a level of comfort with blood, gore and death. So while it was not my intention to write crime, that is indeed what I've done. I'm very happy to add another identity, as a crime writer, to my list - no awkward laughs or suspicious side-eye needed.
Yahoo
22-07-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
BYU football adds Stillwater DL Nehemiah Kolone to 2026 recruiting class
Stillwater defensive lineman Nehemiah Kolone announced his commitment to BYU's 2026 recruiting class Monday night. A three-star prospect according to 247Sports, the 6-foot-4 and 260-pound Kolone had three hats — BYU, Michigan State and Oklahoma State — on his table during his commitment ceremony at his high school. After a quick speech, Kolone announced he'll be a Cougar. Kolone missed the first part of his junior season but played in nine games, finishing with 35 tackles, six tackles for loss and a forced fumble as Stillwater made it to the Class 6A-II semifinals. Kolone was named the Central Oklahoma Athletic Conference Defensive Lineman of the Year and was even more productive as a sophomore, recording 73½ tackles, nine tackles for loss and 6½ sacks. More: Vote: Which Oklahoma high school football team has the best helmet? Nick Sardis covers high school sports for The Oklahoman. Have a story idea for Nick? He can be reached at nsardis@ or on Twitter at@nicksardis. Sign up forThe Varsity Club newsletter to access more high school coverage. Support Nick's work and that of other Oklahoman journalists by purchasing adigital subscription today at This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: BYU football adds DL Nehemiah Kolone to 2026 recruiting class

Yahoo
22-07-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Stillwater: Community development director is hired
Jason Zimmerman, interim community development director in Stillwater, is dropping the 'interim' from his title. Zimmerman, who has served as the city's part-time interim community development director since February, has been hired for the permanent position. He will be transitioning to the new position during the rest of July and August and will start full-time Sept. 2. His salary will be $158,538. Zimmerman, 52, of Minneapolis, has worked as a planner for HKGi since January 2024. He previously worked as the planning manager and as a planner for Golden Valley. Stillwater City Administrator Joe Kohlmann said Zimmerman impressed officials with his 'can-do attitude' and ability to 'address issues head-on.' 'Jason is an articulate professional who has demonstrated a strong commitment to the betterment of Stillwater,' Kohlmann said. 'He gets along very well with coworkers, elected officials, and members of the public.' Zimmerman grew up in Waconia, Minn., a rural community west of Minneapolis, and said 'Stillwater has that same small-town feel, but with an oversized impact on the surrounding area due to its history and draw for visitors.' 'I'm looking forward to helping capture that enthusiasm and sense of pride as we work to update and improve policies, procedures, and a shared vision for the future,' he said. 'Stillwater seems poised to cement itself as a premiere city, and I'm excited to be a part of that.' Zimmerman has a master's degree in city planning from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and a bachelor's degree in economics from Carleton College. In his spare time, he enjoys running ultra-marathons — '50 miles, 100 miles and even some that are over 100 miles,' he said. 'The longest distance I've ever run at one time is 180 miles. That was in Moab, Utah. That took a little more than four days. There was some sleep sprinkled in there.' He and his wife, Amie DeHarpporte, have four children and numerous household pets. Tim Gladhill, who previously held the position, left Stillwater in August 2024 to become community development director in Brooklyn Park. Danette Parr, the community development director in Maplewood, was hired in November to do the job; she resigned effective Dec. 31. Parr, who returned to her job in Maplewood, said Monday that Stillwater 'wasn't the fit (she) was looking for and, unfortunately, sometimes you just don't know that until you get there.' Related Articles Stillwater cracks down on use of e-moto bikes on city trails After spending decades as an actor, Reed Sigmund tries his hand at directing Stillwater installs cameras, license-plate readers to deter crime Stillwater: Silver Sobriety marks 10 years with new location, new executive director St. Croix River bridge inspection underway; delays expected Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
13-07-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
Oklahoma DL prospect Nehemiah Kolone commits to BYU
BYU assistant coach Sione Po'uha instructs players during a practice before the 2024 Alamo Bowl. | Jaren Wilkey/BYU BYU just picked up a commitment out of the backyard of another Big 12 school. 3-star defensive lineman Nehemiah Kolone has committed to the Cougars, he announced Monday via social media. Kolone hails from Stillwater, Oklahoma, playing his high school ball less than a mile away from Oklahoma State's campus. Advertisement Over the past two seasons at Stillwater High, Kolone has recorded 99 total tackles — 14 for loss — and five sacks in 21 games. Based on 247 Sports composite score, the 6-foot-4, 255 pound Kolone is ranked as the No. 19 prospect from Oklahoma and the No. 104 defensive lineman in the country. He chose BYU over other offers from Oklahoma State, Michigan State, Arizona, Baylor and Kansas State, among a number of other programs. What BYU's 2026 recruiting class currently looks like