No Turning Back Now
I know your gaps. I know your struggles. I know your coach couldn’t coach his way out of a wet paper bag. I know your QB is unproven. I know your running back gets injured more than your average 93 year old resident of the Rose Blumpkin home out on in Millard. I know Mo Purify is a great talent but has a serious issue handling the bright lights and paparazzi of Lincoln, NE. I know Kevin Cosgrove is still running your defense. I know your freshman kicker apparently can’t hit the side of the stadium if he was standing 10 feet away in the parking lot. I know you’re a national joke for handing down a one game press pass for a guy who attacked a bouncer, punched a girl and got a DUI…all in 3 weeks. I know 6 of the teams on your schedule have more talent, more skill, better coaching and are not fueled by 2.1 million delusional hayseeds who have future rival stars printed on the photos of their grandkids.
The problem is…you don’t.
If you’ve been around this blog for a couple of years, you know that every year before the season there is a short lull…a ceremonial calm before the storm. The hits go down, I change the subject quickly to things like a trip to Branson or how the Cubs will piss down their leg yet again this season. But this year…despite the tap of new material running dry…despite the fact that no Husker has been arrested in several weeks, I think this year will be different.
Under the surface of this off-season is a sense of desperation and blind faith that I’ve never before seen living here. Oh sure, hick fans are always confident, but they’ve never been so defensive, so assertive and so hell bent on telling the rest of you how great they are. I know this seems like further vile text spewing from the keyboard of a bitter troll with semi-respectable creative writing skills…but trust me when I say, it’s there. Anybody who has spent more than 3 days in this state can tell you that arguments that used to end in statistics and scores…now end in rival stars and returning starters from two years ago who somehow are magically going to be just as fast as they were before their knee was nearly destroyed. This is the world we’re living in today. No more 550 yards of offense. No more fierce defenses causing turnovers. No more slow and steady progress down the field, as thousands of elderly polygrip users quietly golf-clapped from the North Stadium.
Today, fake punts, “fluke” losses, key fumbles, “amazing rehabs”, inflated stats, recruiting visits, striped turf, moral victories and Rival star generated hype is your world. (Along with shirtless pictures of incoming recruits with the caption of “Martin Rucker better fear THIS”. Seriously, somebody sent that to me once.)
You may not like the next two weeks. You may get bored quickly. You may bitch and moan, as you often do that I’ve run out of material. You may be right, but let the fact show I hate you unlike any moment in our 20 year relationship. I wish you a slow and painful demise more than ever. I’m looking forward to your identity, your entire lives (for some of you) completely destroyed in front of overall wearing fans and the glare of the ABC regional cameras. I can’t wait for Callahan’s first failed fake punt, Keller’s first costly interception, Purify’s first drop, McKeon’s first stupid sack dance after a shoestring tackle at the line of scrimmage, the first time Larry Asante gets burned like Crème brûlée . I’m waiting breathlessly for Callahan’s stupid nod after every question, when reporters grill him after losing to perennial “loser” Wake Forest. I’m going out of my mind waiting for the USC game, where I can laugh hysterically as you try and chase down one of the Trojan’s 50 offensive weapons like a greased pig at the Shelby County fair.
Do not lose faith these last two weeks, for there is very little left to say. There are new and exciting changes for this blog that are coming that I think you’ll enjoy. We’ll breakdown each Husker loss and undeserved victory. We’ll call out the ignorant for being so. We’ll roll our eyes as Corey McKeon tries to say something funny, and reporters laugh way to hard at a guy who wouldn’t have hung out with them in high school in 10 million years. But most of all…we’ll point out each and every time I say I told you so..if we can keep track of them.
13 days to go until the most anticipated Husker implosion of all time.
Enjoy the ride with me.