Lloyd and I had cruised up to Minneapolis to catch the Huskers and watch the obliteration of the Golden Rodents of the University of Minnesota. Minnesota has a long and storied history of football success. Most of it happening before any of us had televisions.
On the way Lloyd kept giggling at one of his favorite lines from 'Caddy Shack'.
Sandy: "Carl, I need for you to kill every gopher on the course."
Carl: "Sandy, correct me if I'm wrong, but if I kill every golfer on the course, they're gonna lock me up and throw away the key."
Sandy: "Not golfers. GOPHERS!"
I know. It's funnier when Bill Murray does it.
I had bought Lloyd a gift card for a place at the Mall of America that I thought he'd like. For 36 bucks he'd get a pre-flight briefing and 30 minutes behind the yoke of a P-51 Mustang simulator at a place called A.C.E.S.
On the way, we did actually discuss the upcoming game, not that there was a whole lot to discuss. "What do you think the offense needs to do, Lloyd?" I asked.
"Power run game. I-backasaurus Rex should go for a minimum of 100 yards, today. We can use this game to preserve Taylor's legs and minimize his risk, especially since a large number of Huskerfans seem to think he's going to break down at some point."
"Does he need to throw the ball, much?"
"Maybe some play-action stuff for a big play to demoralize the defense. I think that Beck might mix in some short passes to the backs and tight ends to keep the Gophers honest on D, make them pay if they load up eight or nine guys in the box to stop the run. If they do that I expect to see Kenny Bell all alone behind a Gopher corner. All-in-all, I think that this game is on the shoulders of the o-line, erode the defense's ability in the trenches and watch as three and four yard gains become seven and eight yard gains. Pop a few big plays and this game is over by half-time."
As we waited for Lloyd's turn at the simulator, I could see he was envisioning himself as Don Blakeslee, Robin Olds or Chuck Yeager, taking it to the dirty Krauts in their 'Butcher Birds' and Messerschmitts. Even though they had an F4U Corsair simulator that he could use to re-enact 'Baa Baa Black Sheep' scenes, it was the Mustang I knew he would choose.
After his briefing, he suited up and got into the simulator. Shortly he was cruising over the Ruhr Valley when he spotted a formation of Me-109's in a loose 'finger-four' about 10,000 feet below him. He kicked the Mustang into a dive and set his sights on the tail-end Charlie.
As the 109 filled his gun-sight, he pressed the trigger and the six fifty-caliber machine guns barks a short burst. The German plane fell apart under his assault as he flashed by. He pulled back on the yoke and pulled up under the second target before they could react. Another short burst from the fifties smoked his second 109 as he gained altitude and traded speed for height.
He was in a little bit of trouble now, he had knocked the odds down to a 2-to-1 fight, but it was still a 2-to-1 fight. Lloyd pushed the stick forward and dove toward the 109's, that were climbing up at him, they blended into the ground while Lloyd was silhouetted against the sky. He kicked his rudder to skid a bit and jinked to throw off their aim. In a great anticipation move, Lloyd unloaded a burst just before the Messerschmitts flashed by. He rolled the Mustang through a 180-degree roll and hauled back on the stick. one of the 'Schmitts was smoking and breaking off from the other, making it a one-on-one fight. The remaining 109 continued over on its back and looped over to dive inverted for the ground. Lloyd followed it over. The remaining 109 flew for the deck and started twisting and turning, trying to throw Lloyd's aim off. Lloyd opened the throttle and slowly closed in on the 109. They were barreling along on the deck, hopping over houses between buildings as Lloyd closed in for the kill. He closed the range to less than 200 yards, letting the Me-109 fill his sight as Lloyd pulled the throttle back and matched speed and kept up maneuver for maneuver with the last target.
When he finally had had enough, Lloyd let loose with a long burst from his six guns. The 109 fell apart and crashed while Lloyd threw the throttle forward and pulled up into a zoom climb followed by a hard right stick that sent him spiraling upward.
When he climbed out of the simulator, he had an enormous grin on his face.
"If the defense plays like that," he said. "Swarming to the ball, taking on all blockers, regardless of the odds, and knocking down everything that comes their way, they can seriously talk about getting their Blackshirts."
As we left, I noticed a maintenance guy checking out the Mustang simulator, shaking his head. I think Lloyd might have broken it.
"I don't care if MarQueis Gray is a 'mobile' quarterback or not. This is the game where the defense shows whether or not the quantum leap they have made since halftime of the Ohio State game is real or illusory. Stanley Jean-Baptiste is starting at corner. I don't like the nickname of SJB, so I will call him 'Sting'. We'll see if that sticks," Lloyd said.
"Who replaces Crick?" I asked.
"The Crick injury may actually help these guys. I think Chase Rome will get the start, with Terence Moore getting a lot of playing time, too. The injury may help by giving these guys a rallying point. They see what Jared gave up, he could have been cashing big, fat checks for playing on Sundays, but he came back for the team. Each and every one of those guys can see an example of giving it your all for the greater good of the team, and can try to live up to that example by showing it on the field."
"Stop thinking, just play your asses off," I said.
"Exactly. Let's go find someplace that serves pints of bitter. We need to celebrate another successful return from the continent."
"It'd be awesome if the D picked off four passes like your four kills," I said.
"That would be awesome, especially if it led to a blowout."
"How does 56-17 sound?"
Lloyd nodded. "Tally-ho, baby."
Husk-husk and on the qb.
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