Honky Tonk Woman

                Tawna's file on 'The Girl' was pretty thin, which  I guess was appropriate since the girl was thin, and pretty. The name they had on her was Cynthia Thomas. Occupation, actress/entertainer, which could mean she was an actress or it could be a euphemism. Age, 25, not a student and a bit unusual for one of the  guys on the team to be connected with an 'older' woman. The address they had on her was in a decent part of town. The vehicle she drove was a dark blue Mustang, not new, but not a clunker, either.

            The pics in her file showed her with Ray at some team event. A couple of goofy photo booth snaps and a few surveillance shots that were about as incriminating as admitting that you had a library card. I spread the photos out on my desk and really looked at them. There was just something about them that kept slipping up to me and slipping away again just as I was about to grasp it. It wasn't a sense of instant, surprising recognition, like watching an episode of 'Rockford Files' and realizing the bad guy is Ed Harris. It was more like seeing someone out of context, knowing, just knowing that you have seen the person before, but in a different setting, or with completely different lighting, or in black and white instead of color.

            I pushed back in my chair and assessed my next move. It was pretty clear that I had to track down the girl and see what connection she had besides girlfriend.  I had to find out if it was a serious thing, or just a bit of fun. There was no mention of any kid in the dossier, so I don't know if Tawna was messing with me or if she just didn't have the info. There had to be a deeper connection than the one on the surface. If the relationship made Tawna itchy, I had to take notice.

            The easiest, and most obvious step was to roll out to the address listed and see if she was home and have a little chin-wag. I got the car and started rolling south. I had the radio on the local sports station and got to hear news about seven defensive players becoming Blackshirts. Good job. Kind of different than recent years but a big morale booster for a young defense about to get tested in a couple of days. I rolled through  the neighborhoods that were populated by Chevy Malibus and Toyota Corollas. I passed into more recent developments where SUV's and minivans stood poised to make supply runs to Hy Vee to get a week's worth of groceries that the pioneers could have stretched into three months. I turned a last corner and eased down a street where Mercs, Jags, and Lexi kept on eye on things. The trees whispered the presence of an outsider to each other and the front lawns entered greenness competitions. I pulled into the right driveway.

            No car, but she might keep it in the garage. The house was nice, and yes, I had to say it was too nice for an actress/entertainer that had yet to make her break. Lincoln wasn't exactly a hub in film industry. It looked like it was a three to four bedroom job on two floors and a basement. Big house to live in alone. In this part of town, the property taxes would pay for a teacher for at least a semester.

            I figured a direct-ish approach would be best. I reached into my glove box and selected one of my business cards. I went up to the door and rang the bell. How's that for direct? The door was opened by a sleepy looking young woman wearing a fuzzy robe over a pink t-shirt with the word 'pink' in black lettering. Clever that. She was pretty, small, thin build, and the look she had was one of late nights, ETOH and not enough coffee, yet. I love the noon hour in college towns.

            She focused her gaze on me and asked, "what is it?" while stifling a yawn.

            Show time. "Hi. My name is Sam Hawkins and I'm an agent for Blackhawk Productions. A friend of mine sent me video of one of Cynthia's performances. We were quite impressed and would love to chat with her about an upcoming television role." I held my card out to her held between my first two fingers. She took the card, read it over and woke up all at once.

            "Come on in. She's not here, right now, but let me see if I can get a hold of her for you." I followed her into the house. The decor was spare if not spartan. One couch in front of a decent sized flat-screen on the wall in the living room. The sink had collected dishes from the several days ago and didn't look like it was in any mood to get started on them. There were notes and a dry-erase board on the fridge that had contact numbers and sectors with the names Cynthia, Natasha, Jordan and Emily printed in neat, precise handwriting.

            She went to a line of phones charging on the counter and picked one up. A few tippity taps and then we waited. I kept scanning the room, while the girl scanned me. She had that look like she didn't quite believe my schtick. That meant that she was  at least a little bit smart.

            "Hey, Cynthia. This is Natasha," she said to the phone in a sing-song tone. "There's a guy here, who says he's got a gig that he thinks your perfect for. He's from Blackhawk Productions. The number is 402-555-2368. Bye-eee." She ended the call and looked up at me. "She didn't pick up, so I left a voice-mail. But that is kinda weird."

            "What's weird?" I asked.

            "That she's off the grid. She almost always picks up. At the very least to text back if she's too busy to talk, or working or stuff like that."

            "When was the last time you talked to her, or heard from her at all?"

            "Last night. She was heading out as I was coming home." Natasha had a concerned look, and kept chewing at her lip.

            "Are you okey," I asked. Her stance was telling me that something was vibing her as very hinkey.

            "Yeah, I'm fine." She brightened a bit and added a smile that never made it to her eyes. "It's just that she never stays out all night. Never. She might get home at 5 in the morning, sometimes, but she always comes home. This is not like her."

            "Where was she going?"

            "She had just got back from dinner with Ray. It was early because he was tired from practice. Then she was going to a party, downtown."

            "What kind of party? Frat, kegger, something like that?" I asked.

            Natasha smiled. "No, sooo not her thing. When Cynthia says she's going to a party, it's one of those high class deals where guys with too much money and too much to drink try to look down her dress while she laughs at their lame jokes."

            "That sounds political," I said. "Or financial. Like investments and land deals, that sort of thing."

            Natasha shifted gears on me, maybe realizing she had said more than she intended. "I'm not sure. It's her life, and she always seems to have a good time. Who am I to judge?" she shrugged off some other thoughts.

            I refocused on my role. "Well, when she gets in, have her call me. You have my card. I was hoping to meet her, today. It's a pretty good role I'd like her to audition for, but I'm sure I can find another cute blondie to take the gig." I started moving to the door. "You said Ray had to practice. What is he, in a band or something?"

            Natasha really laughed this time. "No. He's on the football team. Football practice." She shook her head.

            "What is it?" I asked.

            There was a hint of a smile left. "He's funny. He thinks he's going to cash in on the NFL in a couple of years."

            "You don't think he will?"

            "I have no idea. My dad says he's a back-up, who hasn't gotten enough playing time to prove himself. Without cracking the starting line-up, he'll be lucky to get a try-out in Canada...whatever that means." She looked up at me with an earnest expression of concern. "I'll call you if I hear anything, too."

            "Great," I said. "You do that. Time is money, you know." I waved a little salute at her and headed for the car.

            I started heading back to the office while the sports guys started tossing predictions for the Wyoming game around. I listened and weighed what was being said. If push came to shove, I was thinking Nebraska would take Wyoming, 52-24. The offense is going to roll, maybe the best in the Conference. The defense was young, inexperienced, and talented, but might give up a few big plays.

            That sounded familiar.

Country Tonk

                I stepped out of my cool, serene shelter and into a classic Nebraska summer day. The kind of day that feels like a large, wet dog has propped himself on your shoulders and is panting in your face.

            I headed for the office, hoping that the bills and junk-mail hadn't made too much of mess in my absence and dialed up Lloyd on the phone, or communicator as he insisted on calling it. He picked up, interrupting the Star Trek theme on his callback tone. "Ellroy, here."

            "Lloyd. I need to meet with you. I've got a case and I have a feeling I'm going to need your expertise," I said.

            "Audio, visual, or both?"

            "Both. I'm getting expenses on this one, so bring your whole Felix bag."

            "I got a new FLIR imager. Can I bring it?" he asked. The note in his voice told me that if I said no, he'd be like the kid who got socks instead of action figures for Christmas.

            "Lloyd, my man. You are a sub-contractor. You can bring anything you want, itemize the usage and submit a bill. You don't need my permission."

            "Right...I knew that. It's just..."

            I stopped walking, leaned against a wall, and rubbed the space between my eyes. "You know I will try to keep you as far away from the bad guys, as possible. I don't want a repeat of the last time, either."

            "I know. I just...you know...freak out every now and then. Still."

            "I get it, Lloyd. I should have never put you in that position. You're the best surveillance and tech guy in town. I think this case is going to be mostly old-school, but since everyone has cell phones and computers, I will probably need someone with the skills to access that kind of stuff."

            He paused for a bit longer than I was hoping for, but he eventually replied. "Okey, I'm in."

            "Great," I said. "Meet me tonight at the office tonight at 7, and we'll set up the preliminaries. I don't even know what my first move is."

            "You're used to that, I'm sure. Ellroy out."

            Lloyd can be kind of mean, sometimes. Although I guess I deserved it.

            I checked the office and saw that the bills had made gains on the junk mail. The plastic fern needed water and the desk bottle was running a bit low. I checked to make sure all my pens worked and that there was more than enough room on the legal pad for plenty of doodles when the office door opened up.

            He was a young guy, mid twenties, maybe. Clean cut, good shape, polo shirt and khakis. Nikes and white socks. Still learning to dress. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, and looked like he could be a grad student. But he wasn't.

            "Excuse me, sir. Are you Sam Hawkins?" he asked, pointing at the painted letters on the glass door.

            "Either that, or Lon Chaney is even better than he used to be," I replied, trying to look serious.

            The kid fished around in his backpack, and brought out a large manila envelope that was nearly sweating with the effort to stay closed. He nodded blankly. The joke had gone completely over his head. He held the envelope out to me, "Ms. Brixton told me to deliver this to you--well, a Mr. Hawkins, anyway."

            "Yeah, that's me. Thanks. I'd toss you a quarter for a tip, but I'd be afraid you'd just blow it on jawbreakers and red-hots down at the candy store."

            He shouldered his backpack and gave me a once over. "Ms. Brixton warned me, that you might be--"

            "A jerk?"

            "Challenging, she said. Before we get in deeper than either of us want, I need to tell you that she wants me to be the go-between on this one."

            "This one, what?"

            "This case. She said I was to liaison between your organization and our office. She said it would make more sense and be safer if anyone monitoring her movements were to see her coming in and out of your," he paused a second as he scanned the office, "establishment."

            "Ah, I see. So, employee or intern?" I asked.

            "Intern. What does that--"

            "What's your major?"

            "History. With an emphasis on Mili--"

            "Great. That's just great," I said, plastering on my big, cheesy smile. "You got a name, kid?"

            "Richard. Richard White," he answered, his eyes narrowing as he tried to see what care instructions for my shirt were.

            "Richie, we'll get along just fine, I think." The used car salesman smile made my jaw ache.

            Richie's jaw tightened a little bit, and he wasn't looking very happy. "I prefer Richard, thank you."

            "You're polite, too. Tawna must love that. I get it, Richie, but I think first impressions are important. To me you look more like a Richie...unless you think Dick is better."

            Richie's face reddened. I knew he had heard the gag a million times and probably hated his parents every time he did. He shifted his weight on his feet, pulled his backpack a little tighter on his shoulder. "First impressions are important. Trust me, I know a dick when I see one." He turned on his heel and was out the door. I did have the good taste to not let him see me smile.

            Well done, lad, I thought to myself. I'm going to like this kid.

            I pulled my letter opener out of my desk and sliced open the envelope. I had just a few days before the first game, with Wyoming coming to town and I wanted to get a handle on the situation as quickly as I could.

            I had been turning a hypothesis around in my head, that whoever was behind the threats was going to make their move at a critical point in the season. If that was the case, there were only a few games which were considered critical. UCLA, Northwestern and Michigan State in Lincoln, and Michigan on the road. If the Huskers were successful in those, then there was the conference championship against Ohio State, most likely.

            I know that coaches like to take it, 'one game at a time' and not 'overlook any opponent' but I've always thought that was just coachspeak to keep the fishwrap fillers from inciting the other side. I didn't want to think that Wyoming could be overlooked, but hey, If the Cowboys were to walk in to Lincoln and get the win, the problems would be much bigger than the one I had to deal with.

            The first sheet I took out was a photo taken for the media guide. Doyle, Ray stared back at me. 21 years old. Mom dad and siblings living in Johnson City, Tennessee. Scholarship recruit three years ago, worked his way up from scout team fodder to second string db. I was having a hard time getting my head around the idea of him being the link that could be critical in any big game, but when the evidence doesn't support the hypothesis, change the hypothesis.

            Tawna had sent academic records. Decent grades as a Exercise and Physical Education major. He had been involved in a slight legal issue as a freshman, he got Mipped, but clean since then, nothing anyone could use as leverage. He was involved in the community service stuff the team usually does, visiting sick kids in hospitals and stay in school stuff, so nothing there.

            The girlfriend's picture was next. She was cute, early 20's, blonde and blue and her face blipped my memory radar. Not a huge blip, like I knew her personally, but a background blip. I knew her, but couldn't quite place from where.   

The Girl With Faraway Eyes

                Kicking off the 2013 season a little differently. So much analysis, predictions, prognostications, etc. are out there. This is a story, that will play out over the course of the season, with Nebraska football as the background. I'm not going to get into depth charts, recruiting and play calling so much. What I will do, is tell my tale with significant plot points being derived from the games. I Hope you enjoy it.

 

 

      I loved getting here before anyone else. The staff knows me. Ryan, specifically, knew how I liked my drinks. The cool and the dark is always as refreshing as long pull of ice cold pop after a night of too many ghosts.

            The stool was at the perfect level for me to keep an eye on the guy directly across from me. We were surrounded by hundreds of enemy soldiers in browns, greens and the occasional blue. Their cheerful labels and whimsical names did little to belie their menace or potential to initiate a banzai charge. I nodded at the other guy and raised my glass. He returned the salute and I knew we would go down together if the attack was launched. We couldn't win, but we'd take as many bastards with us as we could.

            Business is lousy. Divorce gigs aren't what they used to be. Back in the Cretaceous Period, you needed to have some sort of proof if you wanted to appear before a judge and dissolve. Now, it's usually a case of, "You wanna?"

"Yep."

"3K, a short wait, and we're outta here."

            There was still the occasional contested issue where one side would want dirt on the other and needed to find some muck-raking, garbage-diving low-life to provide the goods. That's what my cards read... on the back. Throw in a fidelity test and a background check or two for a blue blood and I managed to get the rent paid and the cat fed.

            I smelled her before I saw her. The scent of L'air de Temps pushed through the other smells like a bodyguard clearing a path for a starlet through the paparazzi. I nodded at Ryan, made the 'two' sign and indicated the seat to my right. Ryan poured two glasses of bourbon and placed one in front of me and the other in front of Tawna as she sat next to me.

            "Hey, there, Kitten," I said. "What's a girl like you doing in  place like this?" I always wanted to say that.

            "Can, the crap, Sam. I'm here on business." She tossed the bourbon back in one smooth motion.

One of the many things I dug about Tawna, she could drink with the big boys. "Something must be brewing," I said. "You wouldn't be saying hello to the only reason we keep Kentucky in the union before sundown unless it was important."

"It is." The bourbon was already beginning to work its magic. I could see the tension beginning to unwind. A bit. You had to know where to look and you couldn't look directly. I had the guy opposite look for me.

            She emptied her glass, took a deep breath and turned to me. "We have a situation." She had my attention, for real, now. "There have been some threats made to one of the football players. Not him, directly, but this girlfriend-slash-hookup-slash-possible baby mama that he is involved with."

            I smiled. I laughed a little bit. Mistake.

            "What?!", Tawna demanded.

            "Nothing. I'm just amused by you using the term, 'baby mama'." After shrugging off the daggers her eyes shot at me, I waited a beat and rejoined.  "Okey. Kid's got girl problems. How do you and the Security Detail get involved? And more importantly, why has it got your Vicky's Secret unmentionables bunched up like the old dudes at Grandmothers on free pudding night?"

            "We can't get involved, directly. The girl isn't a student, so we can't even go talk to her, really. The player is the only one suggesting there have been threats, and he won't go to the police, since it would be a 'distraction'. The coaches care, but they know they can't make him do anything not related to football or class. So I'm stuck, not able to do what I know needs to be done and my hiphuggers are right where they're supposed to be." She motioned at Ryan to bring two more.

            "Fine. Why tell me all this?", I asked.

            "Are you going to actually make me say it?"

            "Say what? You got a tough nut to crack and your hands are tied. Normally, you're not into that sort of thing, so you're doubly pissed off. I would be, too."

 

            She gripped her glass a little tighter. I was hitting all the points I knew I shouldn't. I was having fun, though.

            "What I need," she said. "Is someone I can...trust...to check this out and see if it's a legitimate threat. I need to get it resolved and kept out of the public view, too. I'm tap-dancing in a mine field here, Sam."

That did it. She used my name. This was serious. I tossed back the rest of my bourbon and looked at the guy across from me. He looked me in the eye and reminded me that I owed her. "All right", I said, pushing my hat back. Give me the particulars. Let me know the no-go zones, too."

            "Would that matter?"

            "I'm wounded by that crack. I only break the rules when absolutely necessary."

            "Necessary being as often as possible."

            "Hey. I'm helping you out, remember."

            "You're helping me out because you need the gig, and it involves football. If the kid were on the gymnastics team, you wouldn't care."

            "That's true," I nodded. "But neither would anyone else. And you wouldn't be all hot and bothered about keeping it under the rug."

            It was her turn to toss back the bourbon.

            "Let me have my tech guy, Lloyd to work the case, too," I said.

            She looked me over, thought a minute, "Agreed."

            "Good, because without him, my idea of a wire tap is adding an extra piece of string to the tin-can line." That actually got a hint of a smile. "So, what, exactly, do you want me to find out?"

            "You need to find out exactly what the nature of the relationship is. Determine if there is a threat, the nature of the threat and determine what the motivation is. You get all that, I can get your fees, plus expenses."

            "Where's that going to come from?"

            "I'm consulting with you," she said. Then she winked.

            With that, she spun off the stool and sauntered to the door. Her hiphuggers were in the right place. I caught the guy across from me looking.

            I took stock of my situation. I had to locate and deal with a threat to a football player, without knowing the exact origin or nature of the threat. The first game was only a week away. I started listing off all the characters that might have an interest in how well a player performs. Fans, business owners, the 'O' Street bookmakers, opposing fans, the Vegas bookies, local and national media, the students, the team, the coaches, the athletic department and the U in general.

            Easy, right?

            I had to get in touch with Lloyd and make a few calls. I needed Tawna to provide the name of the player and his girlfriend...or whatever.

            I pulled the schedule out of my wallet, along with a couple of bills for Ryan. Wyoming was the first game. In Lincoln. I didn't have a whole lot of time to dwell on it, but I do know they are called the Cowboys, and it was time to saddle up and ride.

Going Back to Ohio

     It may not look like much on the scoreboard, but a rally from a 17 point deficit to a 3 point win is pretty impressive. The swing from last year was a whopping 34 points. Big difference: no Russell Wilson for the Stinking Badgers. Not as big difference, the new and improved Taylor Martinez.
     You always hear how the game is won in the trenches, usually spoken by guys who's only idea of trench warfare is the assorted 22 minutes or so from Downton Abby. If true, then the Husker front four drove the mastodons from UW even closer to extinction. Extra props to the linebackers, too. All made impressive plays, 'Zo Whaley, Sean Fisher and Will Compton stood out at key moments. Compton reminds me of a classic throwback '60's linebacker, except fast.
     I think the ground game has a recipe for long term success. Wave after wave of Burkhead and Abdullah. You could see it starting to take shape in the second half. Sprinkle in a little T-Magic and this offense looks like it might be unstoppable by anyone, save themselves. Dropping 45 points a game on opponents is tough to counter.
     On to the next gig. All the way to Columbus, Ohio. Lloyd and I loaded up the van with lads and began the odyssey all the way to the Arch City...wonder if that's because of Archie Griffen? I could see it. "Groping in the Dark" was booked for a place called 'The Worst Bar in Columbus'. I'm sure the competition was fierce, but that is the actual name of the place. I sought out the owner or manager or bartender who looked like he was in charge in order to get sorted out.
     I wonder if Bo will have any chance to enjoy his homecoming.
     Rod was a decent sort, all things considered. He only looked at us like we were noisy tourists talking too loudly in a cathedral. More tolerant than I expected. I anticipated him looking at us like enemy agents trying to slip by his border post undetected. Yes, he knew where we were from.
     He came sauntering up as Nigel struggled to fit his synthesizer onto the tiny stage with all the other gear. "You know you're going to lose on Saturday, don'cha?"
     Figuring that Nigel had no idea about what Rod was talking about, I intervened. "Lose at what?" I asked, putting on my best confused look. That one is easy, I'm confused a lot.
     "The Buckeyes are going to destroy Nebraska, ol' Braxton will run circles around them."
     "What is a Buckeye and who or What is a Braxton?", I asked, not rising to the bait.
     "The Buckeyes, you know, the football team from THE Ohio State University."
     I always hated that extra emphasis on 'The' that OSU players and fans coughed out.
     "Braxton Miller is the quarterback that will make those Cornhumpers look silly", Rod continued.
     "Oh, ok," I nodded. "You still haven't told me what a Buckeye is, though."
     "Awe, hell, it's a tree. The Ohio Buckeye, a type of chestnut."
     "Why name your team after a tree?"
     "It's not just the team. It's the State, the people. Ohio is the Buckeye State."
     Chas chimed in, "You mean like conkers?"
     "What?"
     "Conkers. You put the conkers, or horse chestnuts, on a bit of string and whack the hell out of them in turn, until one breaks," he explained.
     Rod looked at him as if he had grown a second head, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
     "Yanks," he scoffed and went back to setting up.
     I had a feeling that Chas was on to something, though. I started thinking that the game would be like a game of conkers. Each side is going to take a whack at the other until one breaks. Both offenses are just a bit better than the defenses they will face.
     Nebraska was the more diverse attack, and will force OSU to play honestly all game. The main weapon is Taylor Martinez, who has been making key passes as well as plays with his running. Rex and Ameer are the best running back tandem in the B1G. Kenny, Quincey and Kyler are effective downfield weapons.
     OSU has Braxton Miller. He does the same job as the entire Nebraska backfield. He is the key to the game. He is just a good enough passer to hurt the defense. He won't sit back in the pocket and pick the D apart, he'll do it while running, drawing defenders up and hitting receivers that get left open.
     The band brought me out of my reverie as they sound checked with Blondie's 'One Way or Another'. Seems to fit to me. A huge dude wearing khaki shorts and an Ohio State sweatshirt ambled up to me. The shirt was so badly stretched over his massive gut, that the type 'O' looked more like an ellipse. "Are you Sam?" he wheezed.
     "Yeah," I said. Who wants to know?
     "Susan said to give you this," he said, pressing a folded piece of paper to my hand.
     I opened it right there. It read 'Meet me at midnight at a place called Hang Over Easy -- S'
     That meant I could hang out, catch the game, and still hit the meeting. Finally, a break.
     I settled in to bide my time and watch the track meet that was about to unfold.
     A track meet that I expect the Huskers to win, 38-35.
     Husk-husk and on the qb.

New Blood on the search

     I finally caught up to Non-Stop John at Brewsky's. He had notebooks, a pitcher of beer, a plate of nachos and two cell phones arrayed in front of him. He seemed to be trying to watch all 15 screens on the wall at once. Neat trick when you can manage it.
     "John," I said, "Or if you prefer 'Non-Stop', I've got a couple of questions to ask you."
     He motioned for me to sit, and gave me a quick glance over his shades. "You can ask. Don't know if I'll have any answers, though. And if it's betting tips, you can go away, now."
     "I don't need betting tips. I've got a missing person and was told that you may have heard something about her."
     John leaned back in his chair. He placed his hands behind his head in an obvious attempt at looking unconcerned. "Why are you coming to me with this?"
     "I need help and I'm stumped. You came highly recommended, but if you don't want to help..."
     "I'm not linked to this chick?"
     "No."
     "Who recommended me?"
     "Preacherman."
     He relaxed. "You should have said so, earlier. Preach and I go way back. What are the particulars?" he asked pulling one of his notebooks toward him.
     I told him about Susan, ''Groping in the Dark" and the trip to L.A. with the tip from Mickey. I told him how Lloyd and I had taken over the management of the band and how we needed to find things to keep them busy. He nodded, took a few notes and asked a few clarifying questions. "I can connect with some people, but if it starts involving a lot of leg-work..."
     "I know. If you get into this for me, I will get you my agency's standard fee for an investigator, assuming you're bonded and licensed, of course," I said, doubtfully.
     "Licensed, bonded, never use it. Just in case kind of thing."
     We shook on the agreement and I nodded toward the screens. "Do you think the Huskers will get their revenge, on Saturday?"
     "Against the Stinking Badgers," he said like the bandito at the end of Treasure of the Sierra Madre. "If they use their speed advantage. It's not like last year where they can load up the box and dare Martinez to throw. They will have to play their defense straight-up, which means that Martinez can check down to plays that will take advantage of what the defense is showing. The speed factor comes in if Beck makes the defense run after them on every play. Tosses, pitches, screens, jailbreaks, that sort of thing. The Huskers are so deep at receiver, they can spread the field all night long, stretch them both horizontally and vertically."
     "How about the ground game?"
     "Nebraska has four backs, three should get a decent number of carries. I hope that Beck uses them in waves, maybe Cross comes in in short yardage situations. Burkhead is back, Abdullah has proven himself and Heard is decent, too. I don't think the Badgers defense will be able to take the pounding for a full four quarters. But that might not even matter. Nebraska has gotten off to a fast start in every game this year."
     "Big question, now. Will the defense be able to handle the behemoths? They have been chasing spread-option offenses all year. Can they change it up and play a team that is committed to a ground game, especially if Montee Ball plays?"
     "If Huskers do to UW what they did to Martinez, last year. Load the box with 8 defenders, dare them to pass and double team Jared  Abredeis in passing situations. Half of Stave's completions went to Abredeis and he has 40% of their receiving yards for the year. They do not have the weapons they had last year. Remember last year when Wilson made the defense look silly? That guy is starting in the NFL this year. Stave is not a pro prospect, yet. The defense needs to take advantage of that difference."
     "What about special teams?"
     "The Huskers have had their ups and downs, I don't expect it to be a big difference maker."
     "Any score predictions?" I asked
     "Nebraska will get out to an early lead, putting even more pressure on the Wisconsin passing game. If Nebraska can get up by two possessions, Pooch will be pinning the ears back and turning the pass rush loose. Every possession Nebraska has with a sizable lead will be run heavy, to quicken the game and take time away from any potential come back. Hostile crowd, emotional weight to the game. I expect a 17-3 Nebraska lead to finish up as a 31-10 grab the conference by the throat game."
    "One last question. Why do they call you 'Non-Stop'?"
    "That," he said with a wry smile. "Is a secret."
    Husk-husk and on the qb.

LA Noire Shirts

     Los Angeles was everything I hoped it would be. Loud, sprawling, cheap, oppressive, glittery and dismal, all wrapped in an enormous ball of confused anxiety about what it was and what if anything, existed beyond whatever borders happened to define it.
     The LA of Chandler was gone, pushed aside by wave after wave of broken dreams that had dashed themselves along Hollywoods fabled shores, lured by the sirens of easy fame and success.
     The LA of Ellroy still showed signs of peaking out from where it had been pushed. One still saw bits and pieces of that LA. The LA that still made appearances in scratchy newsreels shown in retro theaters and might be reflected in the eyes of the dispossessed, who may have, at one time starred alongside Joan Blondell or Joel McRea.
     The LA of Jack Webb had never existed, but you could see the possibilities of the shiny, modern, just, city that yearned to stand front and center. Only wishful thinking could create a world where just the facts were enough and just a few bad apples could be turned around by a strong hand that would make everything ok.
     The LA of the Rockford Files was still there, but fading down the stretch like a distance runner who had rabbitted at the start of the race and was now succumbing to the smog and the lack of training. The bodegas and dive bars; the bail bonds and badasses on the corner were in abundance. Even then, you hoped that somewhere there was a kind hearted-hero that would take on on overwhelming case that he knows deep down that he'll never get paid for.
     Right now LA is somewhere between Bacchanalian city state and ultra-modern Dystopia. Read Joseph Wambaugh and Phillip K. Dick on the same night and your dreams will display 21st century Los Angeles.
     It is into this city, or rather, this League of Extraordinary Contrasts that the Huskers play in, today. There have been several significant games between UCLA and Nebraska in the 'modern' era. In 1972, UCLA ended Nebraska's 32-game unbeaten streak, behind the foot of a short, fat, soccer style kicker named Efren Herrera and the passing of that dude from NCIS. In 1973, Dr. O got his first win, but that was in Lincoln. In 1983, Mike Rozier ran for 102 yards on a 6 yard scoring play that helped propel him to a Heisman. In 1984, No. 1 Nebraska destroyed 8th ranked UCLA the week before the wheels fell off at Syracuse. In 1987 Steve Taylor went 10-15 with five TD's, connecting with Tom Banderas for three of those. Banderas's kid will be a Husker next year. In 1988, Troy Aikman got his revenge, in LA, as the Huskers looked hapless and helpless against a future NFL hall of famer. Mark Blazek returned an INT for a TD in what was one of the worst officiating calls that helped Nebraska. He fell down, got up and ran to the endzone. No whistle. In 1993, Nebraska escaped LA with a 14-13 win. UCLA had scored a TD on a huge run, but a holding call negated it. In 1994, the Huskers pounded the Bruins 49-21 as the chant of 'over-rated'  washed over the 13th ranked Bruins in a game that wasn't as close as the scoreboard indicated.
     This week, the Huskers roll into town with some momentum, but quite possibly without the services of I-Backasaurus Rex. Taylor is returning home, kind of. Corona is East of East LA and less than 50 miles from the Rose Bowl. The kid is hot and UCLA will actually have to prepare for him. I think he has finally reached the skill level where teams can't load up eight defenders in the box and dare Taylor to pass. They have to play honestly, which will free up the running game. Ameer, Braylon and Imani look more than capable of filling in for ROAR Burkhead. Depth is a problem for the Bruins, so Beck's up-tempo offense should be yielding positive results early. UCLA might be dead weight by halftime. It was good to see so many different receivers get touches last week. With Marlowe out (it saddens me that Marlowe has to miss a game in LA), Jamaal Turner will get his opportunity to prove that his habits have improved since last year. The offense has so many weapons that there will be no way that UCLA will be able to take everything away.
     On the defensive side, the Blackshirts will have to contain a mobile quarterback. UCLA runs the spread offense that Bo solved years ago. Expect to see a lot of nickle defense with only two backers, today. Today is also the debut of Mohammed Seisay, Hoping to get Huskerfan to adopt the British Paratrooper battle-cry of 'Whoa Mohammed' whenever he makes a big play. The D-line has got to make strides this week, Southern Miss had some decent players on the o-line. UCLA has some talent and scored on several big plays last week. But that was Rice.
    The whole big picture thing is that this entire week lacks any really interesting games. Nebraska should win this one going away. The final score might even be a little misleading. I expect Nebraska to be able to score at least 42. I think the game will be firmly in hand when UCLA gets a couple of late scores. Going to call it a 42-24 win for Nebraska.
     The rest of the B1G is similarly underwhelming.
     Lloyd's Power Ratings for the B1G and this week's games.
     Leaders
     Ohio State -- 11, vs. Central Florida; Ohio State 45-17
     Purdue  --  9, at Notre Dame, Notre Dame, 34-24
     11. Wisconsin  -- 7, at Oregon State, Wisconsin 31-17
     Illinois -- 5, at Arizona State, ASU 28-24
     Penn State -- 2, at Virginia, Cavs 28-10
     Indiana -- 2, at Massachusetts, Indiana 17-14
     Legends
     Michigan State -- 9, at Central Michigan, MSU 27-10
     10. Nebraska -- 8, at UCLA, Nebraska 42-24
     Northwestern -- 5, vs. Vanderbilt, Northwestern 28-27
     Iowa -- 4, vs. Iowa State, Cyclones 21-16.
     13. Michigan -- 3, vs. Air Force, Michigan 35-21
     Minnesota -- 3, vs. New Hampshire, Gophers 31-3
     The new Top 13 isn't even involved in a whole lot of interesting games. 1. Alabama vs. Western Kentucky, 2. USC at Syracuse, 3. LSU vs. Washington, 4. Georgia vs. Missouri, 5. Oklahoma vs. Florida A&M, 6. Florida State vs. Savannah State, 7. Oregon vs. Fresno State, 8. West Virginia idle, 9. South Carolina vs. East Carolina, 12. Clemson vs. Ball State. LSU and Washington is kind of interesting. Georgia and Missouri might be intriguing to see how Georgia handles the spread. Florida State is favored by 70 1/2 over Savannah. Bet the dog, that's a big number.
      Got the lads straightened out for their gig, tonight at Club 1984. Lloyd convinced them to record the shows on tour, and put out a cd, and make the songs available to download. The lads are interested and want to call it 'The Terror Wolf Incident". No idea what that means, but has a very '80's feel to it.
     I need to do some leg work, find out if anyone here remembers Susan, or remembers what she might have been up to. The Lads are opening up for a band called 'Book and the Guinea Pigs'. What I really want is for the crowd to remember 'Groping in the Dark'.
     Gathering up my Star Maps and list of LA contacts, ok, that's Marcus. Hopefully I can find his store. He is a quite successful new-age books and spiritually accessories store. He drives a Lexus, but keeps his orange 1968 VW bus parked out front. To the casual observer the Birkenstocks and pony tail are all they need to see to confirm his modern hippy status. Too bad they don't notice that the jeans are Diesel, the flannel shirt by Scotch and Soda, and the watch by Fossil.
     Appearance is everything.
     Hope I can make some headway before my gas money runs out. In LA, that could be a BIG problem.
     Husk-husk and on the qb.

On championships and coaches

     Cassandra and I were having a little chat in the office. Mr. Davison was still in a coma, and Lt. Moore was on the lam. Things had been a bit quiet, so we were occupying ourselves with the annual soap opera, 'As the Coaches Turn'.
     "Before we get started on the self-indulgent, gratuitous speculation that comes with tracking coaching changes, let me know what our friends and allies have picked for the championship games, this weekend," I said.
     Cassandra sighed at me as she finished adding peppermint coffee-mate to her brew. "Leroix is picking LSU in what has got to be the shock of the year."
     "Has he named a score?" I asked, trying really hard to imagine Leroix taking anyone but LSU for any reason, and not being able to do it.
     "He said he's a little concerned with them 'tightening up' in Atlanta, and that Les Miles hasn't had his annual act of craziness, yet. He's worried that LSU will win, but by less than 10 points, he said Les Tigres 23-Ugas 14."
     "How about Clemson and V-Tech?"
     "Leroix said I should handle that one. V-Tech is hot, Clemson is not. The Hokies should avenge their only loss and make their way to the Orange bowl. I'm going to say VTU 28, Tigres l'Orange 10."
     "How is Bubba handling the Big 12 not-championship?"
     "In spite of all evidence, he's sticking with OU. He's putting his money on Stoops out-coaching Gundy, again. I told him he was nuts and the players on the field decide the game, and too many of OU's weapons have tape, bandages and braces on to win, this year."
      "We have to make it official," I said. "What is the pick?"
     "Bubba says OU 56, Cow Rapers 49."
     "Let's head out west. Did you even call Marcus?"
     "No. No point. Oregon is playing UCLA. The Little Bears lost to USC by 50. Oregon almost came back to beat USC. If Oregon doesn't win this by 35, it's by personal choice."
     "Prediction?"
     "Quackers 49-10, lots of work for the scrubs."
     "Now for the big one. Whisky or Sparty."
     "Granny Gunn is picking U-dub, of course. They have been hot for the past month and are looking for revenge. I asked Lloyd to make a case for the Thpartans and he just mumbled something about them getting lucky like they did last time."
     "Based on that, what do you think?"
     "Stinking Badgers should own them, 35-17."
     "What are your bowl projections?"
     "LSU-'Bama in the NGC. Oregon-Wisconsin in the Rose. Virginia Tech-Big East schlub of the week (West Virginia). If Bubba is right, OU-Stanford in the Fiesta, which would set up a Okie Lite-Houston game for the Sugar."
     "Tell me about the coaching shuffle," I said.
     "There have been 18 head-coaching changes. Three in the B1G, Ohio State, Illinois and Penn State. Urban Meyer has landed the gig in Columbus, and the rest of the B1G is worried. On the upside for NU, it means that Bo's dream job is off the market for the next 5 years or so."
     "There were eight other BCS AQ schools that changed coaches. Texas A&M, Kansas, Mississippi and North Carolina. The interesting one is Mike Sherman getting fired from A&M. He's got NFL ties and Pelini ties from their Green Bay days. Turner Gill got a raw deal from Kansas. He got a big, fat buyout, so he can chill for awhile, but I expect to see him back at the NU athletic department offices in the next six months. Not as a coach, though. I'm betting on recruiting coordinator."
     "What's that leave us with?"
     "The Pac-12 had a coaching bloodbath. Wazzu, UCLA and both Arizona schools fired their coaches. Mike Leach landed the Wazzu gig. He was able to succeed in Lubbock, with leftover Texas talent. The fans will love his style of swashbuckling offense and no-one in the Pac-12 plays defense, anyway, so he could make them a contender, quickly."
     "What else was there?"
     "Skippy Neuheisel is out at UCLA, expect to see him on TV, next year. Arizona State booted Dennis Erickson, and they'll have to go big-time, big name hire like, I don't know, Kevin Sumlin from Houston."
     "OK, tell me again about your Youngstown Connection chain."
     "Carl Pelini is all set to take over the Florida Atlantic, job. This frees up a DC slot at Nebraska. Mike Stoops got canned at Arizona. He and Bo worked together as co-DC's at OU when Bo didn't get the gig here, the first time. They have the Youngstown connection, are good buddies, and Mike was over his head as an HC, but DC, here, could be a sweet destination gig. He already knows how Bo thinks, and would allow him to maintain his position as Chief-football-officer of Nebraska, Inc."
     Lots to chew on.
     Husk-husk and on the qb.  

Nothing to do

     This time of year is always kind of a drag.
     For the first time in three years, the Huskers aren't preparing to challenge a behemoth from south of Kansas for a conference title and 'shake up' the BCS. They are chilling, waiting for the bowl possibilities to be revealed and resting up, healing, or maybe playing some X-Box.
     The conference championships range from the sublime to the ridiculous. The best to watch should be the B1G Championship, and that is said without bias. Sure, neither team is in the Top 10, and it is a re-match, which everyone hates, right? It is easily the closest match-up of any championship game and Whisky wants to avenge their heartbreaker loss to Sparty. If Whisky wins, they get to make amends for their egg-laying in the Rose Bowl, last year. If Sparty wins, they get to go to the Rose Bowl for the first time since 1988. Wow.
     The most important championship game is the SEC's. LSU has to win in order to go to the NCG, but could still get in with a close loss. Georgia has a puncher's chance, but if LSU plays at the level they have all year, then it should be pretty cut-and-dry. This could very well be the best LSU team, ever. Even when they won the NC in 2007 (Bo was DC), they lost two games. If they beat Georgia, and then Alabama (again) they will be 14-0, coming out of the toughest conference in the country. I have been hearing that they might even be better, next year.
     The Big 12 has a de facto championship game with the 'Bedlam' game between Okie and Okie light. Their should be over 100 points scored between these two. Both have high-octane offenses, OU's is like 87-test and OSU's is 98, but since neither team defends the pass, the game will be a basketball score.
     Out on the left coast, the Pac-12 'championship' needs to remain in quotes. From the North, you have Oregon, who lost one conference game, to USC. From the South, you have UCLA, who is there with a 5-4 record, and a 50-0 loss to the aforementioned USC (who is ineligible for post-season play). Add to that that their coach, Skippy Neuheisel, will coach the game despite having been fired. If Oregon doesn't win this by half-a-hunnert, it's only because Coach Kelly doesn't want his starters getting hurt.
     Over in the ACC, Virginia Tech is set for revenge against Clemson, their only loss on the year. VTU is playing lights-out, right now and Clemson has lost three of their last four. If VTU wins, they are the only team that I can make a strong case for facing LSU, rather than Alabama in the NCG. If VTU wins, they will have avenged their only loss of the season, and played an extra game. 'Bama's only loss was to LSU, at home, and the old arguments that hounded Nebraska in 2001 should re-surface. They couldn't win their division, how can they play for the National Championship?
     I submit that the case for Alabama is still strong. Over the course of the year, Alabama and LSU have been the best two teams. Both defeated every opponent by 30 points a game, except when they played each other, and that went into overtime. Alabama has the best defense in the country, LSU, the second. If you simply want the best game for the NC, can you honestly say that a Virginia Tech-LSU game in New Orleans would be better than an SEC revenge game?
     As for Nebraska, it could be the Capitol One ($4.6m), Outback ($3.5m), or Gator ($2.7m) bowl. All in Florida, and all against an SEC team. The projections have Arkansas, Auburn and South Carolina as potential opponents. Ideally, Nebraska gets the Capitol one against South Carolina, but I think it will be Outback against Arkansas.
 Husk-husk and on the qb.

Post Iowa and a few picks

     Watching the Nebraska-Iowa game, yesterday, was like watching two exhausted boxers in the 12th round of a fight. No belts on the line, a decent undercard, but not a main event. Yesterday was no Ali-Frazier, it was more like Jerry Quarry v. Jimmy Ellis.
     It also had an old-school feel to it that I dig. I-Backasaurus Rex led an attack that was like five-yards-and-a-cloud-of-rubber, but I like that. I actually do enjoy watching the offense grind away at a team, at any moment a play could pop for a huge gain, but the steady erosive nature of the attack did wonders for a defense that was probably still trying to recover from last week.
     Speaking of the I-Backasaurus, he gets my nod for offensive MVP. The team MVP is obviously Lavonte David, but Rex has been the go-to guy all year long. Excellent story to emerge from the game; Rex had tied the school record for carries in a game with 37 (again), the o-line convinced him to come out and take the last snap in 'victory' formation so he would get one more official carry, and the record. I have heard that it was Yoshi that convinced him to do it, saying that the o-line wanted him to get it, and that they wanted to be a part of it. Pretty cool, huh?

(It's unclear what T. Rex's exact speed was, but it could run down all other animals in its ecosystem)

     Taylor had a pretty decent game, and passed Tommie Frazier on the passing yards list. He tweaked an ankle, early in the game, which limited the playbook for him. He did get lucky on one pass that should have been picked, and had a couple of attempts that went off of defenders faces at the line. All in all, a decent game. Kenny Bell looked like he has shaken off his issues of the past couple of games, and really stepped up. Jamal Turner got into the game, which shows some improvement for him. Kyler Reed finally got a touchdown reception.

     Let's hear it for the o-line. A battered, beat-up bunch of dudes who gave a gutsy performance when they really needed to. Speaking of o-line, Mike Caputo must have jilted the umpires daughter or something, two clipping/crack-back block penalties against a guy who has had zero all year, neither of which should have drawn a flag. Caputo, Yoshi, Jones, Choi, Long gave Rex the room he needed to do what he does. Let's also hear it for Sirles, who came in when Jones went down and filled in, nicely. I think there is a pipeline getting built in Nebraska, and it doesn't end in XL.

     The Blackshirts did what was expected of them. They shut down the run, and Alfonzo took their best receiver out of the game, again. Lavonte David was here, there, and everywhere; hitting dudes, covering the tight end, getting a sack and stripping a fumble. I still want to see that holding penalty in the end-zone, again. The series that Iowa scored on was one of the weirdest I've seen. I don't think the Iowa receiver caught the ball in-bounds at the three, and no-one sought to review it. I hate to play the fake injury thing, (that's not true, I loved it when Joe Nash, and his bum knee, did it to Cincinnati back in '88) but we should have a flopper to buy more time to get plays reviewed. It took Iowa four plays and three penalties to get into the endzone after a first and goal from the three, to take away the shutout.

(Carl just wanted me to tell you thanks for keeping him employed)

     Just wanted to drop a few quick notes and picks for yesterday and today.

     Leroix picked LSU, trust me. He also has Alabama in the Iron Bowl, and Virginia Tech over Virginia. Bubba is Enjoying the week off. Marcus says Stanford should beat Notre Dame.

     Lloyd says Ohio State will beat Michigan, making Huskerfan say 'Whaaaaa'? Northwestern will play Sparty tough, but not tough enough. Illinois will lose to Minnesota, costing Ron Zook his job.

     Granny is taking whisky, and is picking the Stinking Badgers to beat Penn State. Indiana and Purdue are playing for the 'Old Oaken Bucket', proof that some of these B1G trophies are just stupid. Purdue will win.

     Time to kick back, relax, and get healed up for the bowl game. It appears to be either the Insight.com Bowl or the Outback Bowl. Insight.com pays $6.7m and the Outback $7m, so we're in for some decent cash. I've seen one projection that puts us in the Outback with South Carolina. It would be nice to take on pickle-puss Steve Superior, again.

     Husk-husk and on the qb.















Nebraska, Iowa and Corn

     The atmosphere at "Our Lady" was somber for a gameday. Distraction seemed to be the pervading theme. Fans distracted by the madness that consumed the "Black Friday" shoppers that besieged low-end retailers like a horde of ravenous zombies. The girls, distracted by the early start time and the patrons that wandered in like refugees, seeking shelter from the madness or just coming down from the L. tryptophan overdose.
     The four of us were distracted by the heavy events of the day before. To be fair, Lloyd didn't seem any more distracted than usual. Lloyd, Cassandra, Preacherman and I had gathered for the season finale. This year it is the rivalry game that almost seems forced. Like laughing at a boss's joke, even though you've not only heard it three times already, but watched the show he got it from.
     This whole Iowa thing as our chief rival just doesn't seem to work for me. I get all the reasons why we get told that it works; geography, corn, lifestyle, corn, Omaha v. Des Moines, corn...did I say corn? I still would like to suggest that instead of a lame trophy, that the loser of this annual battle be forced to administer Council Bluffs. 'Heroes' game just sounds so contrived. Anything else would be contrived, too, but Corn Trophy or Corn Cup or Giant Golden Cob are worse so I guess we're stuck. I wouldn't mind the Kinnick Trophy, Iowa's only Heisman winner who was from Omaha would be fine with me.
     "Lloyd. How is the offense going to do against these Hawkeyes?" I asked.
     "They should be OK, I think," he replied. "The huskers should be able to move the ball pretty well on the ground. Iowa's defense isn't anything to write home about. They also won't have the luxury of keying on one guy, now that Taylor has developed into an efficient, if not scary weapon. Burkhead should get back into his groove. The O-line needs to establish its nastiness early and help propel the offense to an early lead."
     I nodded, not really surprised, and not really hearing anything I didn't expect. "Preacherman. How about the defense?" I had to kind of shout since Preach was a little distracted.
     "They got to stop the run. Marcus Coker is averaging over 100 yards a game, and is a big, physical running back. They need to stop the run, but need to do it without loading up the box. Vandenburg is a good enough quarterback to hurt a defense if they try to bring a safety up in run support. They were embarrassed last week, and wrung out. Those guys were on the field all day long, I hope they bounce back after a short week and I hope the offense lets them spend a lot of time on the sideline."
     I turned to Cassandra. "How do you think special teams will do?"
    She rolled her eyes. "The Law of Averages would suggest that they have to do better than last week. That was literally the worst half of special teams play I have ever seen. This week has to be better. It's probably good that Iowa isn't known for their special teams threats, either on returns or blocking kicks."
     "Intangibles?" I asked the assembly.
     "Senior Day," said Lloyd. There are 21 seniors who are playing their last home game for the Huskers. Guys like Austin Cassidy, Mike Caputo and LaVonte David. They will step up and be the vocal leaders the Huskers will need today for that last, final push to a decent bowl."
     "Bounce-back," added Preach. "After the other two losses this year, the defense has responded with a really good game. I think today will be no different.
     "Home cookin'," Cassandra added. "I don't mean the officiating, 'cause we never get the right calls at home, either. I mean getting to sleep in your own bed, do your own thing with your own comfort level. Both of Nebraska's big losses came on the second weeks of consecutive road games. Iowa is in that situation this week, and had to deal with a short week. Nebraska did too, but has been doing it for years with the Colorado game. They have a schedule in place."
     I sat back and watched one of the dancers listlessly maneuver through a set with 'If you want Blood' by AC/DC. I pondered what I though the final score would be. Lloyd was furiously tapping at his screen as I pronounced "24-14, Huskers."
     Lloyd looked up from his toys. "I just got a text from a buddy in LPD. it read 'John Doe shot yesterday. Coma."
     Comatose. That means even if they bring charges against Lt. Moore, which will be hard to stick, Mr. Alan Davison is still alive, and if he wakes up, he will be able to offer his testimony. "Moore can't let that happen, but he won't be able to do anything about it. Or will he?"
     The four of us watched the clock edge closer to game time. Kickoff should give us at least a temporary respite. I hope the Huskers win.
     Husk-husk and on the qb.

Into the Big House

     We couldn't get away for the game. The whole Lt. Moore thing had us pretty much tethered to town. I was bummed, but it would have been tough to get tickets, anyway, I don't have the contacts in the D-Town area like I do in the major metros of the Big 12. Did I just say major metros and Big 12 in the same sentence? Wow, talk about a shift in perspective.
     Additionally, Cassandra had called to say that she had a lead, but it would take some time to sort out. She said she didn't want to overplay her hand, so to wait for her while she tidied things up.
     Lloyd was looking distraught. It was almost as if he couldn't get any bars on any of his devices. "What's your deal," I asked him, not exactly pleasantly.
     "This game. There are so many elements to it that don't play to the Huskers' advantage, that it makes me nervous, jumpy even," he almost twitched out the last sentence.
     "Break it down for me. We've got nothing to do but chill while we find out why Cassandra wanted us here."
     "Shoelaces."
     "Shoelaces?" I repeated, wondering if he had finally gone off the deep end."
     "Dennard Robinson. Shoelaces is his nickname, he never ties them in the game. Anyway, he is the kind of mobile quarterback that Nebraska tends to have a hard time containing."
     "I get that, but how's his passing?" I asked. "It's not just the mobile quarterbacks, it's mobile quarterbacks who can throw well."
     "That's his big flaw," Lloyd conceded. "It's almost like we'll have to dare him to throw the ball, in order to take away his big play ability. He can go yard at any time."
     "Who has beaten Michigan, this year?"
     "Michigan State handled them, and Iowa, but both were on the road, and Michigan beat Northwestern."
     "I'm not too worried about playing in the Big House," I said. "Nebraska has got a good road warrior mentality, and they got a nice rehearsal last week, dealing with a huge crowd in a much crazier situation."
     "Michigan's defense allows fewer than sixteen points a game. They are not the inept defense that we've seen over the past three years."
     "That's a padded stat," I said, dismissively. "They gave up 20+ points to four teams, only one of which is currently ranked. Most of their low-scoring points allowed games cam against lesser quality opponents. There are two directional Michigan schools and San Diego State in there. They gave up 31 to Notre Dame, and quality opponents have been able to score on them."
     "So I guess I'm worried about nothing, huh?"
     "Not at all. Be worried, but I think that Martinez has developed enough into a versatile quarterback that defenses have to respect his passing. It's almost to the point where defenses can't just load up the box to stop the run, and challenging him to throw it. If the receivers had avoided the dropsies, Martinez would have even better numbers."
     "How are the Blackshirts going to stop Robinson?"
     "If Carl is smart, and I'm pretty sure he is, he'll look at how Michigan State did it, and how Iowa did it. Michigan State got a huge assist from the wind, which Robinson can't throw in, and I hear it is windy in Ann Arbor. One other thing, Robinson's wrist is hurt, I'm willing to bet that they don't risk further injury with a lot of designed runs for him. The Blackshirts need to seize control of the ground game and stop Toussaint, who has gouged opponents over the last three weeks. Hmm, sounds like we heard the same thing about Silas Redd, last week."
     "Trench warfare, again?" Lloyd asked expectantly.
     "Yep, the fuglies on both sides of the ball win this one. Maybe with an assist from Maher on tilting the field position with his punting."
     "Ok, let's have it. What do you think the final score will be, because despite your attempts at re-assuring me, I'm thinking Michigan will win it, 27-24."
     "I think this is going to be another 'build up the lead and hold on' game," I said. Maybe kind of tight at the half, 17-7, a couple of scores after the break, Michigan pulls Robinson, and they make it interesting in the fourth quarter. Nebraska 27-21 over Wolverhampton."
     Lloyd was at least attempting to relax.
     Cassandra came hustling into the room. "I found her!"
     "Who?"
     "The model for the doll that got sent to Lt. Moore."
     "Well, template more than model. She had no idea about the doll, or that Moore is trying to cover his ass."
     "How do you know it was her?"
     "I tailed Moore and his cronies one night. As he made his rounds, he stopped to 'chat' with this girl. She looked like the doll. After they left I asked her if she'd like to get out from under his thumb. I told her we could pull it off. She's way out on a limb, here."
     "Ok, I get it. But what's the connection."
     "You'll love this. She told me she had this weird John take her to a nice hotel. He dressed her in clothes like the ones on the doll, and took a bunch of pictures."
     "Not too weird, considering her line of work," Lloyd chimed in.
     "That's not the weird part. The weird part is that he didn't even want sex, and after about an hour he broke down in tears, sobbing about how no-one called him on 9/11, even though he was a pilot, and that he had insight, and on and on."
      Goody, I thought. Mr. Davison is back. He's really starting to irritate me, getting me mixed up with Lt. Moore.
     "Anybody up for a double reversal take-down?" I asked.
     Lloyd and Cassandra's hands both shot up.
     Husk-husk and on the qb.