Let's Play Global Thermonuclear War

I have failed you.

One of the comments on the previous posts nailed me...I've come what I hate. Over the past few days, I've let the fan in me take over. I've broken down the games in my head...I've checked out the matchups. I've looked at stats. I've through out scenarios in my head. I've read articles. I've listened to talk radio. I've done every single little thing a fan does before his team goes into a big game.

What a fool I've been.

I have failed you, because I've barely scratched the surface of what tomorrow's game is all about. I've always prided myself on looking at the big picture...and thanks to hype and semi-decent Mizzou team....I've narrowed this down to just one game, played between four white lines. This game is not about 60 minutes of football played between four white lines. This game is about life or death.

Not life or death as some of you may think...but truly life and death of an entire football program. This is life and death of a lifestyle, a self-indulgent, self-focused, back-patting-til-your-arm-breaks culture practiced by 2.1 million people who don't have anything better to fucking do. I've been tempted too much to focus on the actual game...and not the impending doom that is about to become of one fo college football's most storied programs.

My good friend Husker Mike and I have gone back and fourth on this subject of "must wins" for Bill Callahan and the Nebraska program. Although he sees it as obviously a big game...I see it as much much more. Should the Missouri Tigers walk off of Tom Osborne Field tomorrow victorious...this state will sink into the valley of death, as the four horsemen descend from the heavens. A giant swarm of locusts will rise up out of Salt Creek, and a wall of fire will cascade down up on the citizens of a once thriving football metropolis. Nuclear winter. The End of the World as we Know it. Armageddon dressed in black and gold.

The great thing is, you all know I'm right. You sit back and judge me...thinking about my tin foil hat and how I can possibly get internet connection in my mom's basement. But the fact of the matter is...you've always known I'm right. It's OK to admit it. It's OK to give in.

One might also think that I'm happy about the possibility of the Husker football program LITERALLY being destroyed in a 3 hour timespan. The truth is, I'm actually quite sad about it. I'm sad, because nuclear a nuclear blast brings a quick and painless suffering. It's like catching Osama Bin Laden...sentencing him to death and then have him die of an infected splinter in his cell the night before he walks the green mile. You don't deserve a quick and painful death of Husker football. You deserve to suffer. Ask Kansas State fan if you should suffer. Ask Colorado fan if you should suffer. Ask Iowa State or Kansas fan...they'll all say the same thing: When Goliath is hit in the eye with the slingshot and falls to the ground...you don't walk away and wonder how it ended. You jump on...take your shots....and bludgeon him until there is no pulse.

I cannot say this enough, you arrogant, pompous, self-righteous assholes: You deserve to suffer for what your football program has become over the last 40 years. You deserve to sit back and watch a bunch of toothless hicks give a pity clap for you after they beat you 63-6 in a meaningless November game. You motherfuckers deserve to suffer the humiliation of having some skinny, no-talent, Nebraska bred, shitass wide receiver catch a kicked ball out of mid-fucking air against you. You deserve 40 years of Georgia Tech vs. Cumberland.

You people deserve a lesson of what it's really like to be a fan. Not this "We all drive RV's to games and wear the same sweatshirt so now we're 'great' fans" bullshit. I'm talking living and dying with your team. I'm talking getting kicked in the fucking gut over and over and over again...only to have you so used to it, that eventually you crave it. You deserve to have your stadium taken over by an army of inbreed hillbilies who strut through your town, DARING you to breathe the same air as they.

Regardless of the outcome of tomorrow's game...nuclear armageddon is inevitable. (of course it's probably much worse if MY team was flying the Enola Gay, but I digress) For those of you not paying attention...(and judging by the idiotic denial dripping from my radio every afternoon...you aren't) there is no stopping the bomb from hitting. Harvey Pearlman, Steve Pederson and Bill Callahan have completely fucked your program. Even if you beat Missouri, will the slide stop there? Even if they find themselves at Arrowhead on December 2nd, does that mean "Order" has been restored? (Will Pederson print up t-shirts for another moral victory?) The answer is a resounding "no". Beating Missouri will not stop the nuclear blast...only delay it.

I've waited over 20 years for even the possibility of this day. I've waited years upon years to watch witness this program crash to the ground. I've waited two decades to see you reap what you sew.

You audacious assholes. You pretentious and egotistic fucks. If fate does find your team tomorrow I hope you think of me. I hope as you're watching your "order" being restored as you fall to another 7-5 season you remember that I was right all along. As your defense is giving up another long touchdown pass, as your achromic defensive backs are gasping for air after getting torched for another TD...in all your pain and suffering...just as you're about to drop your head in shame...I want your last sane thought to be of me...applauding your return to glory. I will enjoy it...and I will enjoy it thoroughly. With, or even without a loss tomorrow...

Your program.
Your team
Your lifestyle
Your prestige
Your identity
Your hope
Your dreams

And most of all....
Your precious fucking "Order"

Gone. All gone, in a flash with one simple loss.

I hope you pricks rot in hell. Somebody press the red button and get this fucking over with.

Boom

**DISCLAIMER* *

Yes, the previous piece of prose was purely a sports metaphor. The author of this blog does not condone nuclear war of any kind or the detonation of a hazardous material not performed by a professional in controlled conditions. It's a shame I have to make this disclaimer, but I know how some of you are. It's just a football game. Jeez