From Sad to Pathetic

So... like you, I watched KU completely humiliate the defense formerly known as “blackshirts” with ease and disdain usually saved for 1-AA teams. (And usually not administered by fraudulent teams such as Kansas). As the game began, I saw Joe Ganz battling, I saw Mo Purify actually making some great catches, and appear to actually want to be there. I saw players who apparently were highly touted in high school, make some plays and battle back against a superior, yet incredibly overrated football team.

But then adversity reared it's ugly head. Watching the next 3+ hours, you would think I would feel sorry or pity for a team and a fan base that has been so good for so long. Despite my hatred for all things red, this season my hatred for all things red and blue (and that stupid yellow..who the hell throws yellow in there?) is even hotter. Even so, didn't you find it the slightest bit sad to see people who care that much, get beat so badly?

So on Saturday, what does Nebraska do? So what do the Huskers do this ONE time in 20+ years where for three measly hours, I am silently rooting for a Husker win? (to help out my own team, who is rolling) What happens when I become a Husker fan for three hours when I need you the most? What happens the ONE time I need you to come through?

You all quit.

When all this started, it was kinda sad. As much as I hate to admit it...even I felt a bit sadness and pity for NU fans and players, as they obviously lost their way in mid October. You could see the hurt in players eyes, you could see the coaches actually attempting to try and rectify things…all of the things you would think a “traditional power” would do in times of adversity. But beyond even my wildest forecast, you people have done something in scale and mass unparalled in college football history. You have given up, on the field and off. You have completely conceded the season without a shred of dignity..a shred of respect or even a shred self-worth.

Thanks a hell of a lot.

Before this made me kinda sad and indifferent. Now it’s really pissing me off.

You are now the French army of college football. If this sport was warfare, you would have thrown your hands up, laid down your weapons and walked yourself to the POW camp before the battle even started. If Memorial Stadium was the Champs Elysees, enemy teams would be waltzing through the west stadium football offices, taking staplers, pictures and pretty much anything they wanted, as Husker employees, coaches and fans hid in the closets, hoping not to get caught.

This is what happens when you don’t face a shred of adversity in 40 years. This is what happens when you politely clap for visiting teams, and brag to anyone with a notepad or camera about how gracious you are. You cowards and your team have the battle-tested will of a miniature poodle. You frogs have the spunk and fire of a Cub Scout den mother in Des Moines. I have never in my life…in 30+ years of watching and following sports seen a team, a program and a fan base quit and give up faster than you people. And no, whining about your coach does not make you care. Selling out your shitty grey stadium just to leave in the second quarter and complain to the fat bastard next to you whom you’ve sat with for 25 years does not make you a great fan.

It makes you a quitter, plain and simple.

If you had even a spec of human decency…if you had even an ounce of wills, all 1.8 million of you would be camped out at Tom Osborne’s door with a pen and a briefcase full of cash. What’s that? You don’t think the fans have anything to do with it? You think the coaches are solely responsible for their players quitting? My ass they are. YOU have created this holier-than-thou environment over the past four decades. YOU are the ones who fire coaches for going 9-3. YOU are the ones who call “suffering” a 30 point loss to Georgia Tech in 1992. Boo flippin hoo. This is as much your fault as anybody’s. You win as one, you die as one. And in this case, you throw down your weapons and cry like a little girl as one.

And I haven’t even MENTIONED the embarrassment you’ve bestowed upon other teams. A 41-6 assblasting of NU last month now actually HURTS Missouri because they didn’t beat you worse. The entire conference strength of schedule rating has plummeted because you and your sorry coaches don’t care enough to even try anymore. Teams like Texas A&M and Oklahoma State who were actually happy that they beat you in Lincoln, now only shrug weakly at the accomplishment you have taken from them.

Trust me on this. You taunt me and others like me for following a shitty team for the past 30 years. But what you don’t realize is that all of those tough seasons have made me appreciate magical seasons like the one Missouri is having right now. I know what’s it’s like to lose 77-0. I know what it’s like to listen to my team get throttled on the radio by 50. I know what it’s like to go into a game knowing you have absolutely no shot in hell of winning a game.

But at least I didn’t quit. Even when I have every right and reason to shut this blog down forever and declare victory, I know deep down that we’ll be right back here in a few months, because you don’t know any better.

All of those years my team played the Mighty Huskers, I still sparred with my co-workers, because I knew that despite being out gunned and out manned, my team would at least never quit. I knew that if the stars aligned the right way and the moon suddenly turned red…that my team may have a shot. Even though they came up short time and time again, I never lost faith that some day…some magical season within my lifetime…my team would take me from the sewer to a great season. And when that happened, I would enjoy every second of it, because I know what it’s like to suck. This has now happened, and I’m doing just that…all thanks to decades of toughing it out and being proud of supporting a team I call my own.

You on the other hand have no idea how to act. Tom Shatel is screaming every other day about a different person who needs to be fired. The local news is doing stories on how nobody wants to go to Husker Hounds anymore an by red t-shirts. Boo hoo, ratings are down for the NU broadcasts. Every single person I talk to says the same thing, “I don’t care anymore. They suck”. Hell, look at some of the most venomous fans who leave comments on this blog? Where are many of them now? Deer hunting? Watching DVD’s?

Sports are defined by competition, rivalry and character. You ask any coach on earth, in any sport and they’ll all tell you the same thing, “I can teach my team more after a loss than I ever could after a win.” That principle is exactly why you have gone from sad to absolutely pathetic.

And yes…if this column doesn’t piss you off to no end, then you’re even worse off than I thought. Most of you probably really won’t care anyway…as long as the current coaching staff is employed and the current cast of losers is taking the field in your uniforms. When that happens, you'll be right back where you were, blowing it off as bad luck and not learning a G*d damn thing from the opportunity that losing has provided.

I feel sorry for you no more.

Enjoy the pain ya quitters.



(Photo thanks, Lincoln Journal Star and some crappy Lawerence rag)

All Quiet on the Nebraska Front

Seriously.

I know I mention this stuff constantly…I know I kid around about wanting you to fail miserably and to catch a wide variety of sexually transmitted diseases….but holy hell..I didn’t think it would be this bad. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that the Husker hating movement would go so far as to have no enemy. Never in my greatest imagination did I think I would be able to walk the streets of Omaha..wear my Mizzou shirt proudly, and smirk at the 80 year old hags that waltz by me in the mall with their red sweaters. My team is pretty good. Real good in fact.

Regardless of that, it’s like wishing for something for Christmas…praying to God every night that Santa will come and bring it to you. You throw pennies in every well, you wish upon every star. Every day for a solid year you close your eyes tight, and dream of the moment Santa comes through.

And then…he does.

Then what?
What do I do now?
What do you wish for next?

More importantly, how can you kick a man when he’s down, when he’s already been run over by a tank?

I’m not going to lie to you…I hate your guts. I hate every core and fiber of your being. It makes me tingly to see you in pain and agony…I wear a smile a mile wide when you fail. But at this point…I’m at a loss.

The worst part is, so are you. The Channel 6 news at 6 O’Clock tonight ran TWO Husker highlights. (Both Texas A&M touchdowns.) No interviews. No live shots. No commentary. It was just about the same amount of coverage the Omaha Royals get when they drop a day-night doubleheader to Sacramento. At work Friday there was no red. Not a single Husker shirt...pretty much anywhere. Hell, even talk about Texas A&M was hard to come by. Talk is now of a man (Osborne), not a team. I’m almost convinced that you’re so far gone, even a new coach won’t save you from your fate.

It’s pathetic.
It’s sad.
It’s almost too much.

In 1929, a German author named Erich Maria Remarque wrote a book entitled, “All Quiet on the Western Front.” Later, the book was made into a movie staring that JohnBoy guy from the Walton’s. Anyhow, your predicament reminds me of a very memorable scene in the movie. Paul Baumer has suffered intense mental stress under heavy bombardment during World War 1. Paul goes from an innocent young man, to an animal, caught in the hell of war within a matter of days. Following the bombardment, he finds himself pinned down in a trench with a severely wounded enemy soldier.

The enemy soldier is half-dead and wheezing from mustard gas poisoning. Paul spends nearly a chapter discussing his inner helplessness and thankfulness, as he listens to the enemy soldier gasp, wheeze and literally suffocate to death…slowly..over the period of an entire afternoon. After several hours, Paul nearly goes mad. Although the dying soldier is his enemy, he feels the most basic level of compassion. His thoughts are not to save the dying man, but to figure out somehow..someway to make him stop. To put him out of that misery.

I feel like Paul Baumer in a way. I know you are the enemy. I know you should suffer. I know you deserve exactly what you’re getting…but being witness to a slow and agonizing death is painful and somewhat disturbing. Gone is my desire to watch you suffer. In fact, I don’t even want Texas to beat you next weekend. In fact, if I had one wish for next week..it would be for Harvey Pullman to call another press conference on Monday and say, “Fuck it. We’re pulling the plug.”

Please God, make it stop.

I have no idea where I’m going to go from here. You have zero chance of even winning another game. And after the year is over...even when you finally do get a new coach, it will be years before you even sniff a winning season again. I'm in my mid-30's, I can't just sit here and wait for you to get good again. Don’t get me wrong, there is no sadness in my words. But your pain and suffering is really more annoying, sad and pathetic than humorous and joyous.

If anybody has any good jokes or funny photos they’d like me to post, please send them to me. I’ll be happy to do so. If you would like for me to answer questions or perhaps see how many famous names we can find in the Omaha phone book, we can do that too. Anything I can do to pass the time within this blog site.

However, before we do anything like that, somebody needs to grab a gun and put this creature out of it’s misery.

I can’t stand it anymore. The wheezing is driving me crazy.

(Photo thanks: Lincoln Journal-Star and Some WWI website)