From the files of Lloyd.
18 Oct., 2014
Chicago, IL
The Kirkwood Bar.
There is a really cool bar, in North Chicago. They proudly display their Husker pride with flags, drink specials, and lots of fans. If you're in the area, stay in Chicago to watch the game. Evanston is a nice, quaint little town, grafted onto the north end of a major metropolis like an experiment gone awry. Snooty, smarty pants, rich kids go to Northwestern, surrounded by a town that that prides itself on its blue collar history and attitude. Chicagoans feel that Northwestern doesn't quite fit in, doesn't quite make the cut. Northwestern has soft hands from counting money all its life.
Except when it comes to football. NU is way better than Illinois. Northern Illinois has had some recent success, but the bandwagoners are far too obvious. So, for a few months each year, Chicago puts aside its issues with the smart kids, the tax-free status of lakefront property, and enjoys some decent football.
Northwestern looks at Chicago like the dude trying desperately to fit in. He's trying, but a clip-on tie and short-sleeved button-down shirt does not belie sophistication and urbanity.
1800
The game is about to start. It has been a long day of waiting. I got to the bar when it opened in order to get a good seat. I've been pacing myself and I have a deal with Jenny, the waitress, that she will stand guard over my table when I have to go pee. She indulges me. The extra dollar I give her whenever she brings my drink is a small inducement, but inducement, nonetheless.
1835
Kickoff, finally. Ryan field is about half-red. The other half is purple, so it looks like some old ladies' book club gathering, but not as loud.
Huskers get the ball first. Northwestern loads the box to stop Ameer, just like MSU. Tommy connects with Kenny a couple of times. Drive sputters, a couple of drops kills it. Foltz puts the punt inside the 20. Lets see what the defense can do.
I'm starting to think we need to make a deal with opposing teams. We spot you seven points and in return we get the ball twice and run 3:00 off the clock. Had them on their initial third down. Missed a tackle, leaky yards. Northwestern has a freshman, Justin Jackson, that will be awesome in a couple of years. He's good, now, but bulk him up a little bit and get him some experience and he will be a threat. The Wildcats go 89 yards in 15 plays, converting twice on 3rd down.
Huskers get the ball back. Ameer is still struggling to get going. Wet grass, that may have been left to get a bit longer seems to be bothering Nebraska more than Northwestern. Decent drive, 8 plays, 47 yards, but Kenny whiffed on a third down pass. Field goal has the distance but is wide. Still 7-0 and game is beginning to feel like MSU part deux.
After an exchange of 3 & Outs, Northwestern almost seized control of the game. Husker pressure forced Siemien out of the pocket, he tried to slide under Zaire. Zaire lowered his head. No flag. Next play, make-up call. Nathan Gerry gets flag for a ticky-tack unnecessary roughness call. It wouldn't have drawn a flag if Northwestern had man-sized receivers. Northwestern goes for the kill. Deep throw into triple coverage, Gerry comes up with the pick in the end zone. Crisis averted. The offense needs to find a spark.
Local boy, Jordan Westerkamp, sparks the drive, 23 yard reception. Ameer gets going. A penalty helps, Tommy takes it down to the one. Ameer surges in. After the kick. New game, please.
The punters duel for the next four possessions. Huskers keep getting the ball in good field position, but cant do anything. Wildcats get the ball in bad field position and ipso-ipso.
Justin Jackson goes off. Wildcats do everything right. Jackson has runs of 11, 11, 12 and 5 yards. The 5-yarder goes into the endzone with a spin move that MItchell is still trying to figure out. NU up 14-7. Just over two minutes left in the half.
De'Mornay Pierson-El goes to Texas. Tommy throws to P-El for 46 yards. Then Tommy throws to Ameer for 11. On first down, Tommy gets the 'Texas' call. Tommy hands to Newby, who sweeps left while P-El, reverses right. Newby pitches to P-El. P-El lofts a floater to a wide open Tommy, who catches it, and dances into the end zone. 14-up. New game, again.
Northwestern isn't quite finished, yet. Passes and penalties bring the Cats inside the 20. The defense makes a stand, forces a field goal. Wildcats up 17-14 as capering Pat Fitzgerald cheerleads his team into the locker room.
The murmuring. The hushed tones. Funerary atmosphere. 'We've always been a second half team'. 'I hope the coaches can adjust'. 'After a bye week. Really?' 'Didn't we used to blow teams like this out?'
Patience, Huskerfan, patience. Old Man Lloyd, here has seen a lot of Husker ball games. He can cite numerous examples of a first half not quite living to expectations. Halftime is when the coaches do adjust and have done so. The other team adjusts, too, though. A team 'like this'. What does that even mean? If we're talking Northwestern circa 1983, when the students had a cheer that went, 'that's all right, that's ok, you will work for us one day,' every time the opposition scored, then yes. This Northwestern isn't that Northwestern, and hasn't been for about 20 years. The Northwestern coach, Pat Fitzgerald, played in a Rose Bowl, while at Northwestern. We're 2-1 against them since joining the B1G. All three of those games coming down to the last minute. They're a good opponent, don't kid yourself.
18 Oct. 2014
2045
The second half gets going.
The defense finds its groove. More pressure. Better pursuit. Justin Jackson not finding as much room. Wildcats go 3 & Out. Nebraska moves. Tommy throws a near pick that the DB drops. Instead Huskers get to punt. Cats still lead 17-14. Time is slipping away.
Another 3 & Out for the D. Tommy gets it going. 55 yard drive on eleven plays. Three third down conversions, all with Tommy in the mix. Two passes on third and long and a run to pick up the first down when no-one was open. Ameer punches it in from the one. Huskers lead for the first time 21-17. Ryan field gets a bit quieter. History has shown that it is far from over. We should have a wild finish.
The Wildcats try to respond. They get a first down and get to midfield before the door gets slammed, again. Another punt, the third of the quarter, sets up the final act.
Moral crusher. Back breaker. Life stealer. 77 yards in seven plays will do that. The big one has Ameer breaking free for a 50-yard run. He punches it in on the next play. The Wildcat defense has been unhinged, worn down, eroded. it is now 28-17, in the fourth. Northwestern must respond or it is over.
They don't. Another 3 & Out and The Huskers get the ball back before the Wildcat defense has a chance to catch it's breath. It shows. Nebraska goes old school. Nine plays, 55 yards. All on the ground. Tommy leaping from the five and getting the ball across the plane. The refs disagree. They want to see Ameer score his fourth TD, instead. 35-17. It is done, but time remains.
Another 3 & O for the Cats. A punt and P-El returns it to the 19. A less than stellar drive results in a field goal. Huskers up 38-17.
The clock winds down in garbage time. Nebraska gets backups in. Pat Fitzgerald looks sad. Ryan field is half empty. The half full crowd is chanting 'Go Big Red' over and over. A tough win and a good win for Nebraska. The bad taste of the MSU loss kind of wiped away. 6-1, now.
Looking ahead, Nebraska has to play Rutgers, Purdue, Wisconsin, Minnesota and Iowa. None of them a particularly scary. None are exactly pushovers, either. All are winnable. Wisconsin has the best threat in Melvin Gordon, but Northwestern held them to 14 points. Minnesota is on a roll, but they have to come to Lincoln and won a squeaker with Purdue. The stage is set for a re-match with MSU, so I have to go for Sparta to win out, too.
Time to melt into the night before things start to freeze.
Showing posts with label Bo Pelini. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bo Pelini. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
MIchigan State, part 1 (of 2?)
From the Files of Lloyd.
4 Oct. 2014
Hyped for this one. This is the biggest game of the year. Win this one, and Nebraska can stake a claim for the top 10. Win this one, and maybe some of those voices about 'mediocrity' and 'lack talent' and 'average' shut the hell up.
The weather is not conducive. It is raining with a howling wind. Cross-fire hurricane. Cold, but not too cold, just cold enough to be another distraction for a team trying to find itself. One team knows what it is. There are cool trophies that there are color pictures of. OK, that's not fair. One team has pictures of trophies that they didn't have to send off to the Foto-Hut to develop.
I'm sitting in a 'Blues' bar in East Lansing. I have no idea why they call themselves a blues bar. There aren't even pictures on the wall of any of the biggies. No Muddy, no Lightning, no Blind Lemon, no Mr. Wolf. The game is on, but on a screen mounted above the bar. I'm trying to watch but some shit-ass cover band called Avon Bomb is on stage, torturing animals. Not accurate. Torturing the fools who came in here expecting a good live act.
Two guys and two girls who just refuse to give up that dream of pop stardom. You just keep reaching, kids. Kids? All four are pushing 40 and denial in a death grip around the throat. Keep playing. Keep singing. Maybe an A&R man will just happen to be in Lansing on a bet or a dare. Yes, the Love Shack is where it's at. Do what you did to 'Shook Me All Night Long' to 'Jumpin' Jack Flash' you'll have a gas-gas-gas all over your ass-ass-ass.
Anyway, the sound track enhances my overall disposition toward barely controlled homicidal rage. Brilliant start to the game. RG4 snags a tipped ball for an INT. Then bupkus. The wind howling into Drews face is enough to make Bo think twice. Punt instead of FG attempt. Um, ok. Gain what, 15 yards of field position with the wind at their backs. OK. That's why your pulling down the 7-figures. Next possession. Defense holds, forces a punt. Very well. What the Fuck call of the night #1. Pierson-El is back to receive the punt. It's coming in hot, P-El is calling off the dogs. Peterpeterpeter, waving his arms in front of him. The ball bounces, seeks love and affection from P-El, nestles into his arms like a forever home. P-El starts to run, he has a lane, if he lights the jets, he will run so fast into the wind, he will achieve lift.
Whistle whistle whistle. Ref: We thought he was calling for a fair catch. Really? Then where's the flag. It is a penalty to signal a fair catch and then run with it. Quite unsportsman-like. Don't worry MSU, the offense has your back. We'll only move the ball a little bit, and then commit a stupid penalty. We're young. We're raw, this is only our 50th game since middle school.
Spartans treating Ameer like Xerxes.
Then the little niggly-ass nit-noy little things that decide games kicks in. Starting corner, Daniel Davie, gets hurt. These things happen. Sparty has a smart coaching staff. Sparty smells blood. Sparty calls a 'go' route right at the newbie who is in for his first play. He has probably heard the coaches tell him, 'they will test you' and 'be ready'. He probably heard them, he probably even listened and comprehended the sage advice of his leaders. It didn't help. Cook throws one of his satellite-guided small-diameter bombs over the top and it's big play city. 7-0 Sparta.
The Huskers get the ball back. Ameer still being treated like Xerxes. Huskers attack the perimeter. Husker move well. Good drive going. Hey, lets use play-action to keep Sparty honest. Good idea. Let's have Tommy throw a deep sideline pattern into the wind. Are we sure about this? What could go wrong? Tommy throws a pick. Not so terribly surprised.
Connor Cook, the Sparty QB, needs to pretend that every down is third down. Most of the night, he looks terrible, but on 3rd down, he channels Joe Montana. He's probably got better arm strength than Montana. Time and again he hits tough passes on third down. The defense is there, but Cook keeps hitting.
Big plays are the difference. Sparty gets a 30-yrd touchdown run. The only decent run of the night. Ameer is stymied. A cool pass to Ameer out of the diamond formation nets 12 yards. Only time we see the diamond all night. Tommy is harassed by the Sparty D, every time he drops back, the Sparty D-ends are on him. One kid, appropriately named Rush beats both Sterrup and Lewis like cheap, garage sale drums. The wind is nullifying his passing game. Then when it cant seem to get any worse, the center, the coach's nephew, decides that his climb from the depths of walk-on drudgery to starting center, must not have any more rungs on the ladder. He's missing line-calls, he's snapping before Tommy is ready, he's falling victim to alleged shenanigans of Sparty clapping to induce movement before the snap. On a night where the entire o-line looked like death on a hot day, Marky-P stood out. Not in a good way.
At the half, Sparta leads 17-0. Opportunities squandered, Ameer checked, Tommy looking wild-eyed, Kenny on the sideline after crushing his nuts. Second half should be better, right? Right?
Defense plays ok, then gives up a big play. The big one in the third is a touchdown on a double reverse that is executed perfectly by Sparta. Textbook. Almost military drill precision.
Weird play #2 happens in the third. Tommy drops back, Tommy gets hit while throwing. Ball hits the ground, Smart Spartan scoops it and starts to run. Whistle whistle whistle. Play is dead. Incomplete. Let's review, shall, we, lads. Conference. Upon further review, our bad, actually a fumble, MSU ball. What fresh hell is this? Defense stands, forces a field goal.
Huskers get a field goal to preserve their dignity and hide their shame. 27-3 at the end of three. Stadium starts emptying out. There is hot food, burning booze and scorching women, elsewhere.
Fourth quarter. Gut-check time. Tommy the gunslinger steps out. Tommy throws it all over. Life appears. Tommy gets it close. Ameer goes in for the score. Marky P screws up the snap on the 2-PAT. 27-9 less disgusting. Defense holds. P-El almost breaks one. Huskers drive. Tommy gets hurt. Ryker Fife, the walk-on from G.I. gets some time. He fires high, adrenaline. Gets close, again, Ameer, again. Failed 2-PAT, again. 27-15. Is there hope? Yes, there, is. Remaining crowd begins to murmur.
Huskers kick. Sparty has about four minutes to kill. Huskers have three time outs. Sparty runs and Bo stops clock three times. Sparty has to punt. The punt to P-El. P-El makes a man miss. P-El finds a lane. P-El kicks in the afterburner, torches the punter. Kick the PAT. 27-22, time for the onside kick.
Sparty covers the kick. Sparty tries to kill clock. On third down, Sparty runs out of bounds. Bad move. Field goal attempt wouldn't quite put the game out of reach, but would make it tougher. Field goal is up, field goal goes clang-clang-clang off the upright. Still 27-22 with enough time to complete the most epic comeback in Husker history. Tommy starts big. Hits Alonzo Moore down the sideline. Big gain. Huskerfan is up and psyched. Sparta is nervous. Oh, no, not again nervous. Tommy throws a pass that should have been a pick, but somehow gets through to Westerkamp. Under a minute. Husker ball at the Sparty 36. Tommy drops back. Tommy heaves it. He's got a receiver in the end zone. Zo, again. Zo has it. Zo goes to the ground. Zo is sliding on his back. Zo must maintain control through the completion of the action. Don't we all? Zo can't. Ball pops out. So close, Zo.
Still time. Get a little closer, spike it. Three beats to the end-zone bar and let fortune decide your fate. Tommy drops back. Receivers get tangled up on a crossing pattern. It's a timing play and the timing is off. Tommy throws one final pick.
Sparta is relieved. They get to return with their shields. Huskers defeated, but not beaten. The thoughts of could-haves and should haves as numerous as the raindrops that keep coming down.
Re-match in December, indoors, at a neutral site, bitches.
4 Oct. 2014
Hyped for this one. This is the biggest game of the year. Win this one, and Nebraska can stake a claim for the top 10. Win this one, and maybe some of those voices about 'mediocrity' and 'lack talent' and 'average' shut the hell up.
The weather is not conducive. It is raining with a howling wind. Cross-fire hurricane. Cold, but not too cold, just cold enough to be another distraction for a team trying to find itself. One team knows what it is. There are cool trophies that there are color pictures of. OK, that's not fair. One team has pictures of trophies that they didn't have to send off to the Foto-Hut to develop.
I'm sitting in a 'Blues' bar in East Lansing. I have no idea why they call themselves a blues bar. There aren't even pictures on the wall of any of the biggies. No Muddy, no Lightning, no Blind Lemon, no Mr. Wolf. The game is on, but on a screen mounted above the bar. I'm trying to watch but some shit-ass cover band called Avon Bomb is on stage, torturing animals. Not accurate. Torturing the fools who came in here expecting a good live act.
Two guys and two girls who just refuse to give up that dream of pop stardom. You just keep reaching, kids. Kids? All four are pushing 40 and denial in a death grip around the throat. Keep playing. Keep singing. Maybe an A&R man will just happen to be in Lansing on a bet or a dare. Yes, the Love Shack is where it's at. Do what you did to 'Shook Me All Night Long' to 'Jumpin' Jack Flash' you'll have a gas-gas-gas all over your ass-ass-ass.
Anyway, the sound track enhances my overall disposition toward barely controlled homicidal rage. Brilliant start to the game. RG4 snags a tipped ball for an INT. Then bupkus. The wind howling into Drews face is enough to make Bo think twice. Punt instead of FG attempt. Um, ok. Gain what, 15 yards of field position with the wind at their backs. OK. That's why your pulling down the 7-figures. Next possession. Defense holds, forces a punt. Very well. What the Fuck call of the night #1. Pierson-El is back to receive the punt. It's coming in hot, P-El is calling off the dogs. Peterpeterpeter, waving his arms in front of him. The ball bounces, seeks love and affection from P-El, nestles into his arms like a forever home. P-El starts to run, he has a lane, if he lights the jets, he will run so fast into the wind, he will achieve lift.
Whistle whistle whistle. Ref: We thought he was calling for a fair catch. Really? Then where's the flag. It is a penalty to signal a fair catch and then run with it. Quite unsportsman-like. Don't worry MSU, the offense has your back. We'll only move the ball a little bit, and then commit a stupid penalty. We're young. We're raw, this is only our 50th game since middle school.
Spartans treating Ameer like Xerxes.
Then the little niggly-ass nit-noy little things that decide games kicks in. Starting corner, Daniel Davie, gets hurt. These things happen. Sparty has a smart coaching staff. Sparty smells blood. Sparty calls a 'go' route right at the newbie who is in for his first play. He has probably heard the coaches tell him, 'they will test you' and 'be ready'. He probably heard them, he probably even listened and comprehended the sage advice of his leaders. It didn't help. Cook throws one of his satellite-guided small-diameter bombs over the top and it's big play city. 7-0 Sparta.
The Huskers get the ball back. Ameer still being treated like Xerxes. Huskers attack the perimeter. Husker move well. Good drive going. Hey, lets use play-action to keep Sparty honest. Good idea. Let's have Tommy throw a deep sideline pattern into the wind. Are we sure about this? What could go wrong? Tommy throws a pick. Not so terribly surprised.
Connor Cook, the Sparty QB, needs to pretend that every down is third down. Most of the night, he looks terrible, but on 3rd down, he channels Joe Montana. He's probably got better arm strength than Montana. Time and again he hits tough passes on third down. The defense is there, but Cook keeps hitting.
Big plays are the difference. Sparty gets a 30-yrd touchdown run. The only decent run of the night. Ameer is stymied. A cool pass to Ameer out of the diamond formation nets 12 yards. Only time we see the diamond all night. Tommy is harassed by the Sparty D, every time he drops back, the Sparty D-ends are on him. One kid, appropriately named Rush beats both Sterrup and Lewis like cheap, garage sale drums. The wind is nullifying his passing game. Then when it cant seem to get any worse, the center, the coach's nephew, decides that his climb from the depths of walk-on drudgery to starting center, must not have any more rungs on the ladder. He's missing line-calls, he's snapping before Tommy is ready, he's falling victim to alleged shenanigans of Sparty clapping to induce movement before the snap. On a night where the entire o-line looked like death on a hot day, Marky-P stood out. Not in a good way.
At the half, Sparta leads 17-0. Opportunities squandered, Ameer checked, Tommy looking wild-eyed, Kenny on the sideline after crushing his nuts. Second half should be better, right? Right?
Defense plays ok, then gives up a big play. The big one in the third is a touchdown on a double reverse that is executed perfectly by Sparta. Textbook. Almost military drill precision.
Weird play #2 happens in the third. Tommy drops back, Tommy gets hit while throwing. Ball hits the ground, Smart Spartan scoops it and starts to run. Whistle whistle whistle. Play is dead. Incomplete. Let's review, shall, we, lads. Conference. Upon further review, our bad, actually a fumble, MSU ball. What fresh hell is this? Defense stands, forces a field goal.
Huskers get a field goal to preserve their dignity and hide their shame. 27-3 at the end of three. Stadium starts emptying out. There is hot food, burning booze and scorching women, elsewhere.
Fourth quarter. Gut-check time. Tommy the gunslinger steps out. Tommy throws it all over. Life appears. Tommy gets it close. Ameer goes in for the score. Marky P screws up the snap on the 2-PAT. 27-9 less disgusting. Defense holds. P-El almost breaks one. Huskers drive. Tommy gets hurt. Ryker Fife, the walk-on from G.I. gets some time. He fires high, adrenaline. Gets close, again, Ameer, again. Failed 2-PAT, again. 27-15. Is there hope? Yes, there, is. Remaining crowd begins to murmur.
Huskers kick. Sparty has about four minutes to kill. Huskers have three time outs. Sparty runs and Bo stops clock three times. Sparty has to punt. The punt to P-El. P-El makes a man miss. P-El finds a lane. P-El kicks in the afterburner, torches the punter. Kick the PAT. 27-22, time for the onside kick.
Sparty covers the kick. Sparty tries to kill clock. On third down, Sparty runs out of bounds. Bad move. Field goal attempt wouldn't quite put the game out of reach, but would make it tougher. Field goal is up, field goal goes clang-clang-clang off the upright. Still 27-22 with enough time to complete the most epic comeback in Husker history. Tommy starts big. Hits Alonzo Moore down the sideline. Big gain. Huskerfan is up and psyched. Sparta is nervous. Oh, no, not again nervous. Tommy throws a pass that should have been a pick, but somehow gets through to Westerkamp. Under a minute. Husker ball at the Sparty 36. Tommy drops back. Tommy heaves it. He's got a receiver in the end zone. Zo, again. Zo has it. Zo goes to the ground. Zo is sliding on his back. Zo must maintain control through the completion of the action. Don't we all? Zo can't. Ball pops out. So close, Zo.
Still time. Get a little closer, spike it. Three beats to the end-zone bar and let fortune decide your fate. Tommy drops back. Receivers get tangled up on a crossing pattern. It's a timing play and the timing is off. Tommy throws one final pick.
Sparta is relieved. They get to return with their shields. Huskers defeated, but not beaten. The thoughts of could-haves and should haves as numerous as the raindrops that keep coming down.
Re-match in December, indoors, at a neutral site, bitches.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Nebraska 45, Illinois 14
From the files of Lloyd.
Game five. Illinois (IL) at Nebraska (NE).
27 Sep. 2014 0636
The talk all week has been a litany of otherwise in-tuned and dialed-in Huskerfan imitating Admiral Ackbar, 'It's a Trap!' Theory: It's just to give the peeps something to jaw about in order to bleed off the impending Michigan State excitement. No one wants to say it, but this game is just a glorified practice. McNeese State be damned.
27 Sep 2014 1458
The pre-gaming is more sedate than last wee. The booze is flowing and the hot, young, girlies are still trying their best to look like some sort of football-themed hookers. One I saw had a too-small t-shirt that looked like it read, 'Hus ers', but the rip down the middle, revealing an embarrassing amount of decollatage. Her too-tight jean shorts and too-tall heels completed the look. A look that said, 'name your price' way before it said Go Big Red.
Not that the lads were much better. Too many douchey hats and douchey sunglasses hung jauntily behind the head. Douchey flip-flops with basketball shorts. Almost preferable to desperately hanging on to youth guy in his replica jersey that fit really well when he was in college. Add 20 years and 40 pounds, the 11 on the chest looks like an 0, straining to complete itself.
27 Sep. 2014 1814
Trying to get into the mood. Just can't. Not sure what the deal is. Maybe it's the foregone conclusion nature of this game, in my mind. I do want to see how it unfolds, but it almost feels like I know how the movie ends, the book's final chapter. Maybe I'm getting too old to be wandering around through the pre-game masses. The mass among the masses. Extreme unction for the visitors granted before the last breath has left. The Host consumed by the hosts in the weekly ritual. The Host being brats and burgers. Drink of my blood, for it has ethyl alcohol. Community communion.
27 Sep. 2014 2006
Finally. The wait for this kickoff has been a grind. I dig that it's prime-time, but it's not, really. It's only on the BTN and even then, most of the country is getting other games. Who are we kidding? Most of the country really doesn't care about this game. Maybe a few Heisman voters want to peep in and see how FearAmeer does, but beyond that, this is really a private grudge match between a fan base that I smelling a return to glory and a fan base that is smelling the same old unwashed socks.
27 Sep. 2014 2147
First half is done. FearAmeer is a force to fear. 21 carries, almost 200 yards. The line is just destroying their assignments. If you thought what they did to Miami was impressive, what they did to (IL) was text-book. Chapter 1, 'How to Run-block'. Every time Ameer touches the ball, it seems like he could break it. FearAmeer opens the scoring. Weapons of environmental lethality launched. After one quarter, 127 yards rushing. Leave him in for the whole game, and he'll finish with 500+. Tommy had a rough start, 0-2 and a pick is not how you want to get things going. The pick was a bad one, too. Tommy was rolling right, keeping his eyes downfield, so far, so good, pursuit getting to him, sideline approaching, Tommy stops, plants, throws back across his body, and into a stiff wind. Linebacker picks it off. Tommy still suffers from tunnel vision, at times. He still blocks out defenders from his vision. The Illini continued the tradition of visitors scoring on their opening drive. 41-yard burst right up the gut. MIKE got lost. Cooper got juked. IL makes it 7-7. After Tommy's pick, IL moved right on down the field, again, the D finally holds inside the 10, and snatches a pick back. Huskers drive, again, but Imani Cross fumbles at the end of a play. I say he got face-masked, but what I say doesn't matter. End of one, score is 7-7. Huskers not quite hitting on all cylinders. Illini gaming it, letting it all hang out.
Second quarter. Boom. Illinois ran 15 plays. One was a big pass for a touchdown. Other than that, IL gains 23 yards on 14 plays. Boom number one, FearAmeer from 8 yards out. 14-7, NE. IL throws another pick, which sets up boom number two. FearAmeer from 2 yards out, 21-7 NE. A 3&O sets up Boom number three. 63 yards strike to Kenny, a thing of beauty. First and 10 from their own 37. Tommy fakes the handoff, sets up in the pocket, waits, waits, waits, pressure coming, uncork that big right arm. It looks too long. Wait. What? A quarterback can overthrow a receiver. Yes. but not this time. Right on the numbers. Afrothunder80 for the TD. Message to IL, we can hit this any time we want. 28-7, NE. IL hits their big play, making it 28-14, and Husker fan is still nervous. A made field goal and a missed field goal that had the range but not the accuracy, closes the book on the first half. 31-14. IL wants to go home. Bo won't let them.
27 Sep. 2014 2349
The second half, becomes a battle against topor on offense. Ameer got his 200 and is sitting. Imani plays most of the second half. Imani is a good back. Imani is bigger. Imani is no Ameer. yet. The defense is keeping things fresh, though. Playing with seven defensive backs in 'Dollar" set. It's fun. Illini QB, O'Toole cant solve it. O'Toole tries to read it, but it's like Sanskrit. O'Toole scrambles, O'Toole meets RG4 a couple times. Illini shut out for the second half. Defense figuring it out? For all the fear and loathing of an 'average' defense, they have only given up 8 touchdowns when a game was still in doubt.
Somehow, the fourth quarter is slightly more interesting. Get to see guys that you've never heard of. Ryker Fife getting some experience. Jordy Nelson trying to show why he deserves to move from 4th to 3rd on the depth chart. The defense rolling over the Illini offense like a Labrador that found a dead squirrel in the back yard. Just to finish things, and to prevent another garbage touchdown in the final minute. Pooch turns the dogs loose. Zaire blasts O'Toole on the final play. Game over.
28 Sep 2014 0013
The walk home is soothing. 5-0 soothing. I don't want to think about the 300. Nebraska still won't get any love. Doesn't really deserve any until after Thermopylae, anyway. Just a hunch, but I think that this might just be the first half of a double-header. The sound of 6-0 is almost enough to make one giddy.
Game five. Illinois (IL) at Nebraska (NE).
27 Sep. 2014 0636
The talk all week has been a litany of otherwise in-tuned and dialed-in Huskerfan imitating Admiral Ackbar, 'It's a Trap!' Theory: It's just to give the peeps something to jaw about in order to bleed off the impending Michigan State excitement. No one wants to say it, but this game is just a glorified practice. McNeese State be damned.
27 Sep 2014 1458
The pre-gaming is more sedate than last wee. The booze is flowing and the hot, young, girlies are still trying their best to look like some sort of football-themed hookers. One I saw had a too-small t-shirt that looked like it read, 'Hus ers', but the rip down the middle, revealing an embarrassing amount of decollatage. Her too-tight jean shorts and too-tall heels completed the look. A look that said, 'name your price' way before it said Go Big Red.
Not that the lads were much better. Too many douchey hats and douchey sunglasses hung jauntily behind the head. Douchey flip-flops with basketball shorts. Almost preferable to desperately hanging on to youth guy in his replica jersey that fit really well when he was in college. Add 20 years and 40 pounds, the 11 on the chest looks like an 0, straining to complete itself.
27 Sep. 2014 1814
Trying to get into the mood. Just can't. Not sure what the deal is. Maybe it's the foregone conclusion nature of this game, in my mind. I do want to see how it unfolds, but it almost feels like I know how the movie ends, the book's final chapter. Maybe I'm getting too old to be wandering around through the pre-game masses. The mass among the masses. Extreme unction for the visitors granted before the last breath has left. The Host consumed by the hosts in the weekly ritual. The Host being brats and burgers. Drink of my blood, for it has ethyl alcohol. Community communion.
27 Sep. 2014 2006
Finally. The wait for this kickoff has been a grind. I dig that it's prime-time, but it's not, really. It's only on the BTN and even then, most of the country is getting other games. Who are we kidding? Most of the country really doesn't care about this game. Maybe a few Heisman voters want to peep in and see how FearAmeer does, but beyond that, this is really a private grudge match between a fan base that I smelling a return to glory and a fan base that is smelling the same old unwashed socks.
27 Sep. 2014 2147
First half is done. FearAmeer is a force to fear. 21 carries, almost 200 yards. The line is just destroying their assignments. If you thought what they did to Miami was impressive, what they did to (IL) was text-book. Chapter 1, 'How to Run-block'. Every time Ameer touches the ball, it seems like he could break it. FearAmeer opens the scoring. Weapons of environmental lethality launched. After one quarter, 127 yards rushing. Leave him in for the whole game, and he'll finish with 500+. Tommy had a rough start, 0-2 and a pick is not how you want to get things going. The pick was a bad one, too. Tommy was rolling right, keeping his eyes downfield, so far, so good, pursuit getting to him, sideline approaching, Tommy stops, plants, throws back across his body, and into a stiff wind. Linebacker picks it off. Tommy still suffers from tunnel vision, at times. He still blocks out defenders from his vision. The Illini continued the tradition of visitors scoring on their opening drive. 41-yard burst right up the gut. MIKE got lost. Cooper got juked. IL makes it 7-7. After Tommy's pick, IL moved right on down the field, again, the D finally holds inside the 10, and snatches a pick back. Huskers drive, again, but Imani Cross fumbles at the end of a play. I say he got face-masked, but what I say doesn't matter. End of one, score is 7-7. Huskers not quite hitting on all cylinders. Illini gaming it, letting it all hang out.
Second quarter. Boom. Illinois ran 15 plays. One was a big pass for a touchdown. Other than that, IL gains 23 yards on 14 plays. Boom number one, FearAmeer from 8 yards out. 14-7, NE. IL throws another pick, which sets up boom number two. FearAmeer from 2 yards out, 21-7 NE. A 3&O sets up Boom number three. 63 yards strike to Kenny, a thing of beauty. First and 10 from their own 37. Tommy fakes the handoff, sets up in the pocket, waits, waits, waits, pressure coming, uncork that big right arm. It looks too long. Wait. What? A quarterback can overthrow a receiver. Yes. but not this time. Right on the numbers. Afrothunder80 for the TD. Message to IL, we can hit this any time we want. 28-7, NE. IL hits their big play, making it 28-14, and Husker fan is still nervous. A made field goal and a missed field goal that had the range but not the accuracy, closes the book on the first half. 31-14. IL wants to go home. Bo won't let them.
27 Sep. 2014 2349
The second half, becomes a battle against topor on offense. Ameer got his 200 and is sitting. Imani plays most of the second half. Imani is a good back. Imani is bigger. Imani is no Ameer. yet. The defense is keeping things fresh, though. Playing with seven defensive backs in 'Dollar" set. It's fun. Illini QB, O'Toole cant solve it. O'Toole tries to read it, but it's like Sanskrit. O'Toole scrambles, O'Toole meets RG4 a couple times. Illini shut out for the second half. Defense figuring it out? For all the fear and loathing of an 'average' defense, they have only given up 8 touchdowns when a game was still in doubt.
Somehow, the fourth quarter is slightly more interesting. Get to see guys that you've never heard of. Ryker Fife getting some experience. Jordy Nelson trying to show why he deserves to move from 4th to 3rd on the depth chart. The defense rolling over the Illini offense like a Labrador that found a dead squirrel in the back yard. Just to finish things, and to prevent another garbage touchdown in the final minute. Pooch turns the dogs loose. Zaire blasts O'Toole on the final play. Game over.
28 Sep 2014 0013
The walk home is soothing. 5-0 soothing. I don't want to think about the 300. Nebraska still won't get any love. Doesn't really deserve any until after Thermopylae, anyway. Just a hunch, but I think that this might just be the first half of a double-header. The sound of 6-0 is almost enough to make one giddy.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Nebraska 41, Miami 31
From the files of Lloyd.
Game four. Miami, (Fla.) (MiaF) at Nebraska (NE).
20 Sep. 2014 0535
Huskerfan is jacked. Jacked, man. The Hurricanes blew into town with all their brashness and bravado and bullshit. These cats are not the cats of yesteryear. It's not Michael Irvin and Warren Sapp and Vinny Testaverde. These are not the dudes you grew up hating because not only did they act like assholes on the field, they had the audacity to back their shit up with their play. No, these weren't the fearsome tigers of the 80s and 90s; these guys were more like bocats or lynx, still dangerous, but not nearly as much as their progenitors.
I hate discussing games as duels between opposing players of the same position. It doesn't matter if Brad Kaaya will play Better than Tommy Armstrong. It makes no difference if Duke Johnson outduels Ameer Abdullah (as if). The matchups are how Kaaya will handle the noise of the 91,000 people baying for his blood How will Ameer keep moving the chains against a fast, athletic defense?
Those are the kinds of things I seek answers to. Those are the things I hope to gain insight to.
20 Sep. 2014 1347
The crowd downtown is well on their way. The red beer (tomato juice and beer) is flowing in quantities that remind one of a slaughterhouse. Middle aged-moms and pops are tippling their wines. The young and single are tossing brewskies as they flirt and mingle. Hot girls in next to nothing are tossing back shots and petitioning the Lord with prayers of 'Ohmigaw'. Fierce, young laddies are in pursuit, posing and displaying, crushing defenseless aluminum into lifeless, drained recyclable slag. At this rate, the crowd will be at full roar. Maybe volume setting 9. Not 12. Never 12. Seattle is 12 and the old gal on 10th street never gets to Seattle level.
20 Sep. 2014 1905
The was a near riot at the Indian Center. 3,000 drunk kids squared of with some tour buses. Cops got called. City cops, County cops, Statie cops. Inter-agency differences set aside in order to present united front and ride to the rescue. Crowd got restless, crowd got stupid. Too much booze? Ya think? One cop caught a can off her noggin, sent to the Krankenhaus. There's one dude looking at serious offense, Felony Assault on an Officer. Probably best throw of his life. Now he wants it back. Yes, drunken bacchanal at the Indian Center. Irony lost only on those there.
20 Sep. 2014 2014
First half is done. The NE o-line seems to be grind-grind-grinding the MiaF front into a fine powder. Not done yet, but they will break by the third. Ameer to the left, Ameer to the right, Ameer right up the gut, between the tackles. MiaF has no answer. They hit him high, he spins away, the hit him low and he balances for extra yards as he falls. He's smiling. He's feeling it. Ameer is crushing it. It didn't start out so comfortable. MiaF went right down the field to open the scoring. Three straight first downs. Yet another game of the defense looking at each other with 'whatthefuck' faces on the opening drive, again. NE answered. Lightning strike to AfroThunder from 40 yards out. MiaF stopped on an INT. Despite that, Kaaya looks poised. Things got sloppy after that. Both sides traded punts, and Tommy pulled a Taylor and fumbled on the run. MiaF moves at will, goes up by a touchdown. Ameer responds. Touchdown back. Huskers forced a 3&O. More Ameer. Have to settle for a field goal. Since MiaF scored last, Huskers outgained Canes 129-(-1). 25 plays to 3. TOP 12:43-1:109.
20 Sep. 2014 2238
The second half started where the first left off. More Ameer. The mere mention of Ameer has the MiaF d-line cringing. The NE o-line is looking magnificent, standing the tired 'Cane d-lineman up and driving them back. MiaF d-backs getting a workout making all the tackles. Long grinding drives traded. NE jumps out 24-14, about to put the dagger in, but Kaaya and company responds. Steals a march and is right back in it 24-21. Tommy and Ameer are driving back to push lead back out when Tommy throws a pick. Bad pick. Slap you in the helmet bad pick. Mighty Mouse saves the day. Crushes Hurricane hearts. Trevor Roach, filling in for scuffling Josh Banderas, forces the Duke to fumble. Josh Mitchell, all 5-9 and 175 pounds of him scoops and scores. Dagger in the heart.
Canes not quite done, yet. They have to throw, now. Kaaya throws a pick to Nathan Gerry, good return, flags fly. Canes throwning down, scuffle edging on ruckus brewing. Bullshit call on Valentine for roughing the passer. More bullshit as unsportsmanlike penalties offset. Bo turns red. Bo yells. Bo points for emphasis. Bo gets nowhere. Field goal traded for a field goal. 34-24, at this point. Must hold until relieved. Kalu gets a pick. Miami starts shit. Brawling and jawing near the sideline, 'there there there, boys' turns into 'get the fuck back to the sidelines'. Miami imploding, Hurricane force winds only coming from their mouths. The team is a summer breeze. Ameer from 10 yards out Head on a stake. Mount that bitch on the wall.
Game over. Late Miami score. Meaningless. Cosmetic. A slag in Maybelline is still a slag. MiaF is broken, defeated, but they won't shut up. Still talking trash. Husker doesn't know enough to point at the scoreboard and illuminate the Canes. Canes depart. Canes don't shake hands. Canes give crowd the finger. Crowd gives boos back. Crowd sings 'Na Na, hey hey, goodbye'. Crowd full of hatred. Crowd full of vindication. Huskerfan feels that this makes up for the failed two-point conversion when Reagan watched the Orange Bowl from 1600. It doesn't. It's just the next step to 4-0, which hasn't happened since 2011.
20 Sep 2014 2159
Streets are quieting. Bars are rocking. Lads and lasses calling plays, trying to score. Inside trap works well. Passing game needs work. Channel your inner Ameer, lads, and nothing can stop you.
Game four. Miami, (Fla.) (MiaF) at Nebraska (NE).
20 Sep. 2014 0535
Huskerfan is jacked. Jacked, man. The Hurricanes blew into town with all their brashness and bravado and bullshit. These cats are not the cats of yesteryear. It's not Michael Irvin and Warren Sapp and Vinny Testaverde. These are not the dudes you grew up hating because not only did they act like assholes on the field, they had the audacity to back their shit up with their play. No, these weren't the fearsome tigers of the 80s and 90s; these guys were more like bocats or lynx, still dangerous, but not nearly as much as their progenitors.
I hate discussing games as duels between opposing players of the same position. It doesn't matter if Brad Kaaya will play Better than Tommy Armstrong. It makes no difference if Duke Johnson outduels Ameer Abdullah (as if). The matchups are how Kaaya will handle the noise of the 91,000 people baying for his blood How will Ameer keep moving the chains against a fast, athletic defense?
Those are the kinds of things I seek answers to. Those are the things I hope to gain insight to.
20 Sep. 2014 1347
The crowd downtown is well on their way. The red beer (tomato juice and beer) is flowing in quantities that remind one of a slaughterhouse. Middle aged-moms and pops are tippling their wines. The young and single are tossing brewskies as they flirt and mingle. Hot girls in next to nothing are tossing back shots and petitioning the Lord with prayers of 'Ohmigaw'. Fierce, young laddies are in pursuit, posing and displaying, crushing defenseless aluminum into lifeless, drained recyclable slag. At this rate, the crowd will be at full roar. Maybe volume setting 9. Not 12. Never 12. Seattle is 12 and the old gal on 10th street never gets to Seattle level.
20 Sep. 2014 1905
The was a near riot at the Indian Center. 3,000 drunk kids squared of with some tour buses. Cops got called. City cops, County cops, Statie cops. Inter-agency differences set aside in order to present united front and ride to the rescue. Crowd got restless, crowd got stupid. Too much booze? Ya think? One cop caught a can off her noggin, sent to the Krankenhaus. There's one dude looking at serious offense, Felony Assault on an Officer. Probably best throw of his life. Now he wants it back. Yes, drunken bacchanal at the Indian Center. Irony lost only on those there.
20 Sep. 2014 2014
First half is done. The NE o-line seems to be grind-grind-grinding the MiaF front into a fine powder. Not done yet, but they will break by the third. Ameer to the left, Ameer to the right, Ameer right up the gut, between the tackles. MiaF has no answer. They hit him high, he spins away, the hit him low and he balances for extra yards as he falls. He's smiling. He's feeling it. Ameer is crushing it. It didn't start out so comfortable. MiaF went right down the field to open the scoring. Three straight first downs. Yet another game of the defense looking at each other with 'whatthefuck' faces on the opening drive, again. NE answered. Lightning strike to AfroThunder from 40 yards out. MiaF stopped on an INT. Despite that, Kaaya looks poised. Things got sloppy after that. Both sides traded punts, and Tommy pulled a Taylor and fumbled on the run. MiaF moves at will, goes up by a touchdown. Ameer responds. Touchdown back. Huskers forced a 3&O. More Ameer. Have to settle for a field goal. Since MiaF scored last, Huskers outgained Canes 129-(-1). 25 plays to 3. TOP 12:43-1:109.
20 Sep. 2014 2238
The second half started where the first left off. More Ameer. The mere mention of Ameer has the MiaF d-line cringing. The NE o-line is looking magnificent, standing the tired 'Cane d-lineman up and driving them back. MiaF d-backs getting a workout making all the tackles. Long grinding drives traded. NE jumps out 24-14, about to put the dagger in, but Kaaya and company responds. Steals a march and is right back in it 24-21. Tommy and Ameer are driving back to push lead back out when Tommy throws a pick. Bad pick. Slap you in the helmet bad pick. Mighty Mouse saves the day. Crushes Hurricane hearts. Trevor Roach, filling in for scuffling Josh Banderas, forces the Duke to fumble. Josh Mitchell, all 5-9 and 175 pounds of him scoops and scores. Dagger in the heart.
Canes not quite done, yet. They have to throw, now. Kaaya throws a pick to Nathan Gerry, good return, flags fly. Canes throwning down, scuffle edging on ruckus brewing. Bullshit call on Valentine for roughing the passer. More bullshit as unsportsmanlike penalties offset. Bo turns red. Bo yells. Bo points for emphasis. Bo gets nowhere. Field goal traded for a field goal. 34-24, at this point. Must hold until relieved. Kalu gets a pick. Miami starts shit. Brawling and jawing near the sideline, 'there there there, boys' turns into 'get the fuck back to the sidelines'. Miami imploding, Hurricane force winds only coming from their mouths. The team is a summer breeze. Ameer from 10 yards out Head on a stake. Mount that bitch on the wall.
Game over. Late Miami score. Meaningless. Cosmetic. A slag in Maybelline is still a slag. MiaF is broken, defeated, but they won't shut up. Still talking trash. Husker doesn't know enough to point at the scoreboard and illuminate the Canes. Canes depart. Canes don't shake hands. Canes give crowd the finger. Crowd gives boos back. Crowd sings 'Na Na, hey hey, goodbye'. Crowd full of hatred. Crowd full of vindication. Huskerfan feels that this makes up for the failed two-point conversion when Reagan watched the Orange Bowl from 1600. It doesn't. It's just the next step to 4-0, which hasn't happened since 2011.
20 Sep 2014 2159
Streets are quieting. Bars are rocking. Lads and lasses calling plays, trying to score. Inside trap works well. Passing game needs work. Channel your inner Ameer, lads, and nothing can stop you.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
The rain had been pelting down for some time. I was trying to ignore the yelling dude in the next booth, over. I couldn't tell what he was yelling about, he needed his volume controlled. I wanted to walk up to him, get in his face and whisper 'indoor voice', but decided he was doing a good enough job embarrassing himself in front of the young ladies trying oh so hard to look savvy and sophisticated. He didn't need my help.
Side-bar. If you're trying to look sophisticated and grown-up, don't tuck a t-shirt into your skirt, girly.
The traffic lights were glowing in little pools on the streets. Bikes in their racks were preparing to give their owners wet butt on the way home. Refuse from the streets washed into the storm drain while the human refuse hunched closer to their buildings, embracing cornerstones.
A gust of wind rattled the window as Lloyd blew in.
"Lloyd, my man," I called to him. "Come on over grab a seat and let me buy you something to warm your very core."
He squished into the booth opposite me. Droplets of rain stowing away on his coat. "I'll take some Devil's Cut and a Coke to chase it," he said, a bit distractedly.
"You've been processing, haven't you?" I asked. He had all the usual signs. Hands in his pockets, head slightly down, leaning forward, brow furrowed. He hadn't even wiped the rain from his glasses.
"Yep," he answered, slightly defensively. "I have been looking at the data and a bit at the games and there is one thing that has me worried."
"And that is....."
"Speed, man, speed," he intoned. "I'm not talking about Bennies or Dexys, I'm talking about the raw ability of one player to go faster than another."
"Did you see something you didn't like?"
"AND THEN I WAS LIKE, 'DUDE' YOU ARE SO GOING TO PAY FOR THAT," from the next booth, Loud Guy was slapping the table for emphasis while blond wine drinking girl next to him looked nervous.
Lloyd took a breath and carried on. "Their receiver, Phillip Dorsett has some wheels. He had over 200 yards in receptions last week."
"But that was Arkansas State. I'm betting they don't have anyone on their track team that has that kind of speed. Plus, he's only 5-10, so Mitchell will be on a guy who doesn't have a huge height advantage, for once."
Lloyd nodded, sipping his whiskey. It is interesting stuff, it is made from the alcohol extracted from the barrel. The alcohol that evaporated in the aging process is called the 'Angel's Share', the alcohol absorbed by the wood, the 'Devil's Cut'. "Duke Johnson is a good running back," he resumed. "He is slightly heavier than Ameer, same height, better take-off speed, but not as shifty, and I'm not sure he's as durable as Ameer. He can stretch a defense on eat-west runs and cut back."
"I AM SOOOO FUCKING PSYCHED FOR THIS WEEKEND. THIS GAME IS HUUUUUUGE." The PBR in front of him sweated along with the rest of his booth denizens. It wasn't hot.
Lloyd took a swig of the whiskey and a chased it with his Coke like RG4 on an outside blitz. "Their quarterback is the key to the game," he said, thoughtfully. "He is a drop-back passer, the kind that the Bo-fense usually does really well against. He won't hurt you with his legs, though, which is good. He's a Freshman and has never been in a setting with 91,000 fans baying for blood. I know history is irrelevant to the players, but the crowd will focus their hatred and resentment for all those Orange Bowl losses on the field. They remember the failed two-point conversion. They remember the beat-down in the Rose Bowl. They remember seeing the option get throttled by speed."
"Hopefully they'll remember Cory Schlesinger and the trap dive," I retorted, just a little playfully. "And Warren Sapp kneeling on the sideline after getting punched in the balls--at least, that's his story."
"Yep, he's a talented quarterback, but I'm betting there have been cover schemes and blitz packages that JP has been keeping under wraps, just for this game," Lloyd said, repeating his whiskey and Coke maneuver. "Randy will be his worst nightmare."
"And Randy will elevate the play of the whole d-line against the fat, slow, Miami, o-line. They are not athletic," I contributed. I like adding my bit, every now and then. "What about the Miami defense?"
"They are quick, too," Lloyd said. "I have a feeling Nebraska will have to wear them down. I have a feeling we wont see many 'explosive' plays. No 70-yard touchdown passes on a third-and-eight play. Tommy will have to be patient, and the running backs will have to attack in waves. Two and three and four yard drives by Ameer, Imani and Terrence in the first half, will be six and seven and eight yard gashes in the fourth quarter."
"I LOVE BOOBIES," Loud Guy, yet again. "THEY ARE MY FAVORITE THING. NOT TOO BIG, NOT TOO SMALL. BOOBIES!"
Three girls in the booth. Two flushed. I couldn't see the face of the third. For as loud as Loud Guy was, the girls were piercingly silent.
Lloyd took a long draw of the whiskey. He didn't chase it down. I could see the glow set in.
"Do you think special teams will be a big factor?" I asked.
"I think De'Morney Pierson-El will have at least one big return," Lloyd replied. "It may not go all the way, but it will set up a short field in a key possession."
"So, big picture," I said. What will the outcome be, after processing all your data?"
"The latest line has Nebraska by 7.5," he said. "I think that is about right. It will be hard to make a decision on that point-five. I think it will be 24-17, or 28-21, something like that. It will tick me off if I take Miami, and Nebraska wins 28-20. Not really. The win will allow me to cheerfully watch the cash go away."
"So, Huskers win?" I asked. "Just to be clear."
"Yes. Final score, 24-17."
"SHOW ME YOUR TITS. I LOVE YOUR TITS. TITS ARE AWESOME," Loud Guy, yet again.
Lloyd had had enough. He got up, walked right over to loud guy, bent down and whispered right into his ear. No yelling. It didn't take that long, either. Loud Guy turned white. The blood drained from his face like an elevator with a cut cable. Lloyd pivoted and walked out the door, into the rain. He stood on the sidewalk, letting the rain bead up on his coat. Loud Guy unsteadily got to his feet, dropped a couple bills on the table, and headed for the other door. The one Lloyd was not standing by. He drifted off into the sopping night, nearly stumbled over one of the refugees and disappeared into the darkness.
I have no idea what Lloyd said. I never ask. I can only handle my own monsters, I don't want to get a glimpse of his.
Side-bar. If you're trying to look sophisticated and grown-up, don't tuck a t-shirt into your skirt, girly.
The traffic lights were glowing in little pools on the streets. Bikes in their racks were preparing to give their owners wet butt on the way home. Refuse from the streets washed into the storm drain while the human refuse hunched closer to their buildings, embracing cornerstones.
A gust of wind rattled the window as Lloyd blew in.
"Lloyd, my man," I called to him. "Come on over grab a seat and let me buy you something to warm your very core."
He squished into the booth opposite me. Droplets of rain stowing away on his coat. "I'll take some Devil's Cut and a Coke to chase it," he said, a bit distractedly.
"You've been processing, haven't you?" I asked. He had all the usual signs. Hands in his pockets, head slightly down, leaning forward, brow furrowed. He hadn't even wiped the rain from his glasses.
"Yep," he answered, slightly defensively. "I have been looking at the data and a bit at the games and there is one thing that has me worried."
"And that is....."
"Speed, man, speed," he intoned. "I'm not talking about Bennies or Dexys, I'm talking about the raw ability of one player to go faster than another."
"Did you see something you didn't like?"
"AND THEN I WAS LIKE, 'DUDE' YOU ARE SO GOING TO PAY FOR THAT," from the next booth, Loud Guy was slapping the table for emphasis while blond wine drinking girl next to him looked nervous.
Lloyd took a breath and carried on. "Their receiver, Phillip Dorsett has some wheels. He had over 200 yards in receptions last week."
"But that was Arkansas State. I'm betting they don't have anyone on their track team that has that kind of speed. Plus, he's only 5-10, so Mitchell will be on a guy who doesn't have a huge height advantage, for once."
Lloyd nodded, sipping his whiskey. It is interesting stuff, it is made from the alcohol extracted from the barrel. The alcohol that evaporated in the aging process is called the 'Angel's Share', the alcohol absorbed by the wood, the 'Devil's Cut'. "Duke Johnson is a good running back," he resumed. "He is slightly heavier than Ameer, same height, better take-off speed, but not as shifty, and I'm not sure he's as durable as Ameer. He can stretch a defense on eat-west runs and cut back."
"I AM SOOOO FUCKING PSYCHED FOR THIS WEEKEND. THIS GAME IS HUUUUUUGE." The PBR in front of him sweated along with the rest of his booth denizens. It wasn't hot.
Lloyd took a swig of the whiskey and a chased it with his Coke like RG4 on an outside blitz. "Their quarterback is the key to the game," he said, thoughtfully. "He is a drop-back passer, the kind that the Bo-fense usually does really well against. He won't hurt you with his legs, though, which is good. He's a Freshman and has never been in a setting with 91,000 fans baying for blood. I know history is irrelevant to the players, but the crowd will focus their hatred and resentment for all those Orange Bowl losses on the field. They remember the failed two-point conversion. They remember the beat-down in the Rose Bowl. They remember seeing the option get throttled by speed."
"Hopefully they'll remember Cory Schlesinger and the trap dive," I retorted, just a little playfully. "And Warren Sapp kneeling on the sideline after getting punched in the balls--at least, that's his story."
"Yep, he's a talented quarterback, but I'm betting there have been cover schemes and blitz packages that JP has been keeping under wraps, just for this game," Lloyd said, repeating his whiskey and Coke maneuver. "Randy will be his worst nightmare."
"And Randy will elevate the play of the whole d-line against the fat, slow, Miami, o-line. They are not athletic," I contributed. I like adding my bit, every now and then. "What about the Miami defense?"
"They are quick, too," Lloyd said. "I have a feeling Nebraska will have to wear them down. I have a feeling we wont see many 'explosive' plays. No 70-yard touchdown passes on a third-and-eight play. Tommy will have to be patient, and the running backs will have to attack in waves. Two and three and four yard drives by Ameer, Imani and Terrence in the first half, will be six and seven and eight yard gashes in the fourth quarter."
"I LOVE BOOBIES," Loud Guy, yet again. "THEY ARE MY FAVORITE THING. NOT TOO BIG, NOT TOO SMALL. BOOBIES!"
Three girls in the booth. Two flushed. I couldn't see the face of the third. For as loud as Loud Guy was, the girls were piercingly silent.
Lloyd took a long draw of the whiskey. He didn't chase it down. I could see the glow set in.
"Do you think special teams will be a big factor?" I asked.
"I think De'Morney Pierson-El will have at least one big return," Lloyd replied. "It may not go all the way, but it will set up a short field in a key possession."
"So, big picture," I said. What will the outcome be, after processing all your data?"
"The latest line has Nebraska by 7.5," he said. "I think that is about right. It will be hard to make a decision on that point-five. I think it will be 24-17, or 28-21, something like that. It will tick me off if I take Miami, and Nebraska wins 28-20. Not really. The win will allow me to cheerfully watch the cash go away."
"So, Huskers win?" I asked. "Just to be clear."
"Yes. Final score, 24-17."
"SHOW ME YOUR TITS. I LOVE YOUR TITS. TITS ARE AWESOME," Loud Guy, yet again.
Lloyd had had enough. He got up, walked right over to loud guy, bent down and whispered right into his ear. No yelling. It didn't take that long, either. Loud Guy turned white. The blood drained from his face like an elevator with a cut cable. Lloyd pivoted and walked out the door, into the rain. He stood on the sidewalk, letting the rain bead up on his coat. Loud Guy unsteadily got to his feet, dropped a couple bills on the table, and headed for the other door. The one Lloyd was not standing by. He drifted off into the sopping night, nearly stumbled over one of the refugees and disappeared into the darkness.
I have no idea what Lloyd said. I never ask. I can only handle my own monsters, I don't want to get a glimpse of his.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Almost back to normal.
The drive back home was loooong.
The band made a few bucks, entertained some new fans, and probably committed a couple of misdemeanors with their, ahem, followers.
But, that's the biz.
Lloyd and I were anxious to get back. We needed to see if there had been any word on Susan. We thought that maybe she had skipped ahead, if Mickey's info was worth anything. It was possible that she was anywhere from Utah to Pennsylvania. We had to narrow down the search area.
We asked the lads where they had been scheduled to play.
"Not sure, mate," said Nigel. "We know she booked several gigs in Lincoln, the L.A., deal and she said several other travel opportunities."
"Did she mention where the travel opportunities were?"
"Dunno," Chas chimed in. "Sounded right foreign to us, Ohio, Iowa, Michigan..."
"Chicago!" Derek interrupted.
"Chicago?"
"Yeah. I remember Susan telling me that she had to go to Chicago at some point to secure the venue for a gig. I remember it because it was the one place I had heard of."
"All nighter, Lloyd?" I asked.
"We can do it. If we drive in shifts and sleep when we get the chance, only stopping for gas and food, we can get home in 24 hours."
We blazed right by Las Vegas. The lads got mad. Maybe on our next vacation, I told them.
We stopped in Cedar City, Utah, for gas and packaged preservatives in snack cake and beef stick form.
As we roved through the mountains, Derek observed that the Rockies could have inspired Tolkien for the Misty Mountains.
Derek has got some depth, to him.
I started keeping an eye out for goblins and trolls. Especially around Boulder.
From Denver we swept through the plains. Lloyd and I struggling to stay awake. The coffee and five-hour energy shots hardly living up to their name.
The lads were rapt. I wondered if they expected to see the whole Sioux Nation riding out to waylay us. Nothing about America fascinates the Brits as much as the Wild West.
I promised them each a Stetson, because Stetsons are cool.
We finally rolled back into Lincoln, unloaded the gear and caught a few hours of kip time. They had a gig on that Saturday.
That Saturday turned out to be Anxiety Saturday. The Huskers played well, Taylor had an awesome game. But Bo was ill, sidelined, under the weather.
He didn't come out of the locker room. He took an ambulance ride. The press didn't know where he went or what was done. They were thwarted by privacy laws.
They don't know that you have to talk to housekeeping. Housekeeping knows all and moves like wraiths through the halls of every hospital. They are invisible, but they know and see all.
Malcolm is a junior pre-med student who pulls shifts at St. E's. He's on scholarship, but needs cash to take care of some things. He will also impart information from time to time for the right dead president; or statesman if it's really good.
For the price of a conversation with Mr. Franklin, Malcolm said that the brought Bo in, ran his EKG, ran the full cardiac panel and rayed his chest. He had some of the symptoms for a cardiac event, but the blood levels and EKG were normal. They proceeded with the G.I. cocktail, a mixture of Maalox and liquid lidocaine. Discomfort resolved. Dx papers signed and Bo was out the door.
As for this weeks game against Idaho State, get your media guides out. You will see names you have never heard before.
Rex will get about ten carries as we welcome him back. Ameer will shoulder most of the load and Braylon and Imani will get a lot of work in the second half.
I think Taylor will run the show in to one possession in the second half, then give way to BK3.
We welcome back Chase Rome to the team who settled his personal issues. I translate that as he broke up with his girlfriend from back home, just a theory, I could be wrong.
Zaire Anderson got hurt, blew up his ACL. Sadness. Time for Santos to step it up.
Final score, Huskers 63, Idaho State 10.
Getting caught up takes a lot of work,
Husk-husk and on the qb.
The band made a few bucks, entertained some new fans, and probably committed a couple of misdemeanors with their, ahem, followers.
But, that's the biz.
Lloyd and I were anxious to get back. We needed to see if there had been any word on Susan. We thought that maybe she had skipped ahead, if Mickey's info was worth anything. It was possible that she was anywhere from Utah to Pennsylvania. We had to narrow down the search area.
We asked the lads where they had been scheduled to play.
"Not sure, mate," said Nigel. "We know she booked several gigs in Lincoln, the L.A., deal and she said several other travel opportunities."
"Did she mention where the travel opportunities were?"
"Dunno," Chas chimed in. "Sounded right foreign to us, Ohio, Iowa, Michigan..."
"Chicago!" Derek interrupted.
"Chicago?"
"Yeah. I remember Susan telling me that she had to go to Chicago at some point to secure the venue for a gig. I remember it because it was the one place I had heard of."
"All nighter, Lloyd?" I asked.
"We can do it. If we drive in shifts and sleep when we get the chance, only stopping for gas and food, we can get home in 24 hours."
We blazed right by Las Vegas. The lads got mad. Maybe on our next vacation, I told them.
We stopped in Cedar City, Utah, for gas and packaged preservatives in snack cake and beef stick form.
As we roved through the mountains, Derek observed that the Rockies could have inspired Tolkien for the Misty Mountains.
Derek has got some depth, to him.
I started keeping an eye out for goblins and trolls. Especially around Boulder.
From Denver we swept through the plains. Lloyd and I struggling to stay awake. The coffee and five-hour energy shots hardly living up to their name.
The lads were rapt. I wondered if they expected to see the whole Sioux Nation riding out to waylay us. Nothing about America fascinates the Brits as much as the Wild West.
I promised them each a Stetson, because Stetsons are cool.
We finally rolled back into Lincoln, unloaded the gear and caught a few hours of kip time. They had a gig on that Saturday.
That Saturday turned out to be Anxiety Saturday. The Huskers played well, Taylor had an awesome game. But Bo was ill, sidelined, under the weather.
He didn't come out of the locker room. He took an ambulance ride. The press didn't know where he went or what was done. They were thwarted by privacy laws.
They don't know that you have to talk to housekeeping. Housekeeping knows all and moves like wraiths through the halls of every hospital. They are invisible, but they know and see all.
Malcolm is a junior pre-med student who pulls shifts at St. E's. He's on scholarship, but needs cash to take care of some things. He will also impart information from time to time for the right dead president; or statesman if it's really good.
For the price of a conversation with Mr. Franklin, Malcolm said that the brought Bo in, ran his EKG, ran the full cardiac panel and rayed his chest. He had some of the symptoms for a cardiac event, but the blood levels and EKG were normal. They proceeded with the G.I. cocktail, a mixture of Maalox and liquid lidocaine. Discomfort resolved. Dx papers signed and Bo was out the door.
As for this weeks game against Idaho State, get your media guides out. You will see names you have never heard before.
Rex will get about ten carries as we welcome him back. Ameer will shoulder most of the load and Braylon and Imani will get a lot of work in the second half.
I think Taylor will run the show in to one possession in the second half, then give way to BK3.
We welcome back Chase Rome to the team who settled his personal issues. I translate that as he broke up with his girlfriend from back home, just a theory, I could be wrong.
Zaire Anderson got hurt, blew up his ACL. Sadness. Time for Santos to step it up.
Final score, Huskers 63, Idaho State 10.
Getting caught up takes a lot of work,
Husk-husk and on the qb.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Northwestern Post-Game
Three years in a row, now, the Huskers have dropped a game, at home, that they had no reason to. In 2009, it was Iowa State, 7 turnovers and a 9-7 loss to an awful team, with their best two players hurt. Last year, it was Texas, who finished 5-7 as the Huskers had a virulent case of the dropsies. This year, it was Northwestern, their second and third string quarterbacks playing the Blackshirts like a virtuoso. It's almost like I wish Dan Persa hadn't gotten hurt.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=piVnArp9ZE0
No-one had better lay this on Martinez. He had an excellent game, 28-of-37 (.756 comp. pct.), 289 yards, 2 TD's (should have been three), and NO interceptions. Trying to recall all the incompletions: 2 Kenny Bell drops, one Brandon Kinnie drop, one Ben Cotten drop; the intentional grounding call (good call by the ref's), the interference call on the final TD drive, the go-route to Bell where he got tangled up with the db, and one PBU that should have been interference on Northwestern had the refs applied the same standard as the call against the Huskers in the first quarter; and one pass where Taylor got hit as he threw it on the final drive. Not a bad day's work, all in all.
For the first time since the Wisconsin game, I've been scratching my head about the play calls by Tim Beck. He ran a lot of read-option plays. The same kind of read-option plays Northwestern sees in practice every day. Northwestern showed up with a great game plan. Take Burkhead out and make Taylor throw. Taylor did throw, and threw well. Beck relied too much on the run, which played right into Northwestern's strategy. If anything, I think Beck stuck with the run too long. I almost got the sense that he felt that the Huskers would wear down Northwestern, and by the time he realized that wasn't going to happen, it was too late.
When Nebraska hasn't performed well, there has been plenty of room under the bus for Taylor, Beck and even Bo. I've heard a lot of 'take the black shirts away', 'make them wear pink shirts', etc., etc. I'm pretty mystified, too, as to how a great performance against Michigan State was followed up by such a bad performance against Northwestern. Some of it was injury, there were guys in at defensive tackle that hadn't seen any game time until Northwestern. There were obvious communication problems all day, guys were hurrying onto the field as Northwestern switched out their personnel packages. the linebackers were looking at each other...a lot, and didn't seem to know what their responsibilities were. The same went for the DB's at times. Northwestern receivers were getting between defenders, and between responsibilities. Add in the fact that the Northwestern QB's all were making their throws, and the Blackshirts wore out by the end of the game. It is rare, but I saw it yesterday, the other team out-muscled the Huskers in the fourth quarter.
On the back breaking play, the 81-yard touchdown pass, Ciante Evans got beat on an inside move and Cassidy played the wrong receiver, coming up to cover the receiver running the fly route. He was out of position to help Ciante. The Northwestern quarterback hit the receiver in full stride and he never lost any energy having to change direction. Perfect execution by Northwestern.
I have nothing but admiration for Northwestern. They came in with a great game plan, handled all sorts of adversity, and adjusted on the fly way better than Nebraska did. Just Nebraska's luck that the Northwestern defense gelled for a whole game at the worst time for Nebraska, but at just the right time for them.
Getting ready for Penn State, which may have been where the team's head has been, all week, anyway. No way to be sure, but it's the feeling I got. That, and a bit of over-confidence. There are no off weeks in the Big Ten. Iowa, who lost to Minnesota, beat Michigan. Minnesota took Sparty to the fourth quarter. Indiana took Ohio State into the fourth quarter as well. That being said, even if Nebraska sweeps their last three opponents, they now need help to get to the Championship game. If Nebraska wins out, and doesn't get help, the likeliest scenario is Sparty playing Penn State in Indianapolis. That would really stick in Huskerfan's throat, to see the Big Ten decided by two teams that the Huskers beat. That's why it's so important to take care of business.
National picture time. LSU beat Bama. Yay. There is still plenty of football left, but I think we have one opponent for the National Championship game set. Good thing for Les Tigres that Bama's kicker was terrible. The three remaining "BIG" games that will shape the picture for the other half of the National Championship. TCU at Bosie State: BSU should win, finish the season undefeated, but will probably get left out in the cold. Oregon at Stanford: De Facto Pac-12 Championship game. Leaning toward Stanford, right now. If they finish the season undefeated, they will have a strong case for going to the big show. If Oregon wins out, they will still be behind the 8-ball, since they already lost to LSU. Oklahoma at Oklahoma State: Despite OU throwing up on themselves against Texas Tech (much like Nebraska did, against Northwestern), I was leaning toward the Sooners winning the Bedlam game, knocking the Pokes out of contention. Then Ryan Broyles got hurt. The Sooners are an excellent offense with a good overall defense that is vulnerable to the pass. Now they are down their best running back and best receiver, and have to play a team that throws the ball all over the field and more often than has ever been seen.
If I were to make a snap pick, right now, I would say that the National Championship will be LSU and Oklahoma State. Oddly enough, Boise State and Stanford could both finish the season undefeated and not even get a shot at the title.
Oh well, bring on Penn State, but leave your teenage boys at home if you know what's good for you. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/06/sports/ncaafootball/former-coach-at-penn-state-is-charged-with-abuse.html?_r=1
Husk-husk and on the qb
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=piVnArp9ZE0
No-one had better lay this on Martinez. He had an excellent game, 28-of-37 (.756 comp. pct.), 289 yards, 2 TD's (should have been three), and NO interceptions. Trying to recall all the incompletions: 2 Kenny Bell drops, one Brandon Kinnie drop, one Ben Cotten drop; the intentional grounding call (good call by the ref's), the interference call on the final TD drive, the go-route to Bell where he got tangled up with the db, and one PBU that should have been interference on Northwestern had the refs applied the same standard as the call against the Huskers in the first quarter; and one pass where Taylor got hit as he threw it on the final drive. Not a bad day's work, all in all.
Taylor scores a two point conversion
(photo courtesy Kim Adams Johnson)
I don't really think one can blame the turnovers, even though both of them happened inside the Northwestern 20, including Rex's fumble at the one. The Huskers won the turnover battle with two interceptions and a fumble compared to two fumbles.
Rex fumbles at the one (we still love you, Rex)
(photo courtesy of Kim Adams Johnson)
There were some penalty issues, but none were really game-changing except for the interference call in the first quarter. From where I sat, it looked like the defender made a play on the ball, and actually touched the ball before he touched the receiver. That changed a defensive stop, that would have forced a field goal attempt, into a first and goal from the three that resulted in a touchdown.For the first time since the Wisconsin game, I've been scratching my head about the play calls by Tim Beck. He ran a lot of read-option plays. The same kind of read-option plays Northwestern sees in practice every day. Northwestern showed up with a great game plan. Take Burkhead out and make Taylor throw. Taylor did throw, and threw well. Beck relied too much on the run, which played right into Northwestern's strategy. If anything, I think Beck stuck with the run too long. I almost got the sense that he felt that the Huskers would wear down Northwestern, and by the time he realized that wasn't going to happen, it was too late.
When Nebraska hasn't performed well, there has been plenty of room under the bus for Taylor, Beck and even Bo. I've heard a lot of 'take the black shirts away', 'make them wear pink shirts', etc., etc. I'm pretty mystified, too, as to how a great performance against Michigan State was followed up by such a bad performance against Northwestern. Some of it was injury, there were guys in at defensive tackle that hadn't seen any game time until Northwestern. There were obvious communication problems all day, guys were hurrying onto the field as Northwestern switched out their personnel packages. the linebackers were looking at each other...a lot, and didn't seem to know what their responsibilities were. The same went for the DB's at times. Northwestern receivers were getting between defenders, and between responsibilities. Add in the fact that the Northwestern QB's all were making their throws, and the Blackshirts wore out by the end of the game. It is rare, but I saw it yesterday, the other team out-muscled the Huskers in the fourth quarter.
One of those 747-sized holes (as one friend put it)
(photo courtesy of Kim Adams Johnson)
Which brings me back to Carl. If Husker Nation expects Tim Beck to own up for calling a bad game, then it is only fair that it does the same when Carl does it. He looked like a freakin' genius, last week, against Sparty. This week, his play calls looked lost. He called the same defense on first down, most of the game. That's fine, if it's working. It wasn't. Northwestern consistently picked up positive yards on first down, leaving them with 2nd and manageable most of the day. They played like champs in the second quarter, forcing three straight 3-and-outs. On the possessions following those 3-and-outs, the Huskers lost two fumbles and got stopped on fourth down. It went downhill from there.On the back breaking play, the 81-yard touchdown pass, Ciante Evans got beat on an inside move and Cassidy played the wrong receiver, coming up to cover the receiver running the fly route. He was out of position to help Ciante. The Northwestern quarterback hit the receiver in full stride and he never lost any energy having to change direction. Perfect execution by Northwestern.
I have nothing but admiration for Northwestern. They came in with a great game plan, handled all sorts of adversity, and adjusted on the fly way better than Nebraska did. Just Nebraska's luck that the Northwestern defense gelled for a whole game at the worst time for Nebraska, but at just the right time for them.
Getting ready for Penn State, which may have been where the team's head has been, all week, anyway. No way to be sure, but it's the feeling I got. That, and a bit of over-confidence. There are no off weeks in the Big Ten. Iowa, who lost to Minnesota, beat Michigan. Minnesota took Sparty to the fourth quarter. Indiana took Ohio State into the fourth quarter as well. That being said, even if Nebraska sweeps their last three opponents, they now need help to get to the Championship game. If Nebraska wins out, and doesn't get help, the likeliest scenario is Sparty playing Penn State in Indianapolis. That would really stick in Huskerfan's throat, to see the Big Ten decided by two teams that the Huskers beat. That's why it's so important to take care of business.
National picture time. LSU beat Bama. Yay. There is still plenty of football left, but I think we have one opponent for the National Championship game set. Good thing for Les Tigres that Bama's kicker was terrible. The three remaining "BIG" games that will shape the picture for the other half of the National Championship. TCU at Bosie State: BSU should win, finish the season undefeated, but will probably get left out in the cold. Oregon at Stanford: De Facto Pac-12 Championship game. Leaning toward Stanford, right now. If they finish the season undefeated, they will have a strong case for going to the big show. If Oregon wins out, they will still be behind the 8-ball, since they already lost to LSU. Oklahoma at Oklahoma State: Despite OU throwing up on themselves against Texas Tech (much like Nebraska did, against Northwestern), I was leaning toward the Sooners winning the Bedlam game, knocking the Pokes out of contention. Then Ryan Broyles got hurt. The Sooners are an excellent offense with a good overall defense that is vulnerable to the pass. Now they are down their best running back and best receiver, and have to play a team that throws the ball all over the field and more often than has ever been seen.
If I were to make a snap pick, right now, I would say that the National Championship will be LSU and Oklahoma State. Oddly enough, Boise State and Stanford could both finish the season undefeated and not even get a shot at the title.
Oh well, bring on Penn State, but leave your teenage boys at home if you know what's good for you. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/06/sports/ncaafootball/former-coach-at-penn-state-is-charged-with-abuse.html?_r=1
Husk-husk and on the qb
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Go, Tell the Spartans, that They're Going to Lose.
Lloyd, Cassandra, Preacherman and I were just hanging out, watching the crowds from East Lansing, West Lansing, and something called the "You Pee" filter into "Our Lady" ready top drop some cash, kill a few brain cells and leave convinced that the girls really liked them.
We hadn't seen much of Mr. Davison. After our last encounter here, he had kind of vamoosed...if that's really a word. Anyway, his absence had allowed for us to concentrate on other, important things, like a few runaway cases, an embezzlement scheme and a background check for a security firm. Sheesh, talk about paranoid.
Now it was game time. We had gathered together to break down the game. This one is HUGE. Inside track for the LegendS division, lasting relevance in the National Championship debate, and a classic offensive strength vs. defensive strength debate.
"Lloyd!" I shouted to get his attention away from his iphone. "Tell me how the offense beats this Sparty defense."
"On the ground," he said, briefly closing his phone with a swipe of his finger. "Bo and Tim have to commit to the ground game and short passes. Sparty loves to blitz, and they trust their d-backs enough to play one and one and force the qb into a 'hot read' situation. The MSU front seven is tough and aggressive, but kind of soft against the run. Keep Taylor out of 3rd-and-longs, and use the run to set up play-action passes and the offense should be fine."
He reached for a sip of his coffee. Always the coffee, with Lloyd.
"I think the Huskers should run a few screen plays, traditional or bubble. Against a hyper aggressive defense, with the weapons at our disposal, can turn a short pass into a long gainer at any time. They just have to time it right, make one guy miss and paydirt, baby."
"How does the run-game enter into the picture, though?"
"We gotta commit to it. Pound them with the run all day long. It may take a half, or three quarters, but with the 8-man rotation our line uses, and the depth we have at running back, by the fourth quarter, the I-backasaurus Rex will be eating up yards, time and Spartan souls."
"Score prediction?"
"Huskers 35, Spartans 31."
I looked over at Cassandra, who seemed to be having a really good time. She was sitting all the way back, smiling and holding her drink as if to cover up her smile. "What's with you?" I asked. "Do you think Lloyd's off base, or something?"
"No, nothing like that," she said, laughing. "I don't get into your Husker break-downs. I just don't know enough about them to make anything I say relevant. I'm amused by watching how guys act in places like this."
"Yeah, it is kind of depressing," I conceded.
"Not at all, it's hilarious. Just watch how these guys will pony up cash, and drinks, I know this place does the 'Saigon Tea' trick for the girls, and do things that resemble the antics of naughty school kids who think the teacher isn't looking."
"Be careful, Preach might get offended."
"Who do you think I'm watching?"
Preacherman made his way back to the table, looking like the cat that ate the canary. Cassandra and I both laughed when he sat down. Lloyd had gone back to his apps.
"What?" Preacherman asked, looking slightly dazed.
"Nothing, man. Inside joke," I said as Cassandra tried to hide her ever widening smile. "Tell me how the defense does against the Spartans."
"Get this," Preach leaned forward enthusiastically. "We gonna break out the base nickle defense, and run peso on passing situations."
"Hmmm, interesting. Explain," I said.
"MSU's got no real ground game to speak of. We can drop five guys back into coverage, and let the best two linebackers roam. David and Compton can fill gaps all day long. MSU does not have a Monte Ball or a Chris Polk that can gouge way at you all day. With five guys covering, or six or seven as the call shakes out, it makes Cousins, their quarterback take that much more time to read a defense that he probably hasn't seen on film. All week long they've been breaking down the defense from this year, and we haven't run the base nickle. They won't know what to do, they'll have to adjust on the fly, and I'm not so sure they'll be able to do that well enough to come back and have success through the air, like they did against Notre Dame and Wisconsin."
"So your saying play to stop the passing attack, and dare them to beat us on the ground?"
"Exactly, in a nutshell. Where's my new girlfriend. I'm getting me some private time."
I though Cassandra's drink was going to come out of her nose, which would have burned, as Preach got up. "What's your score prediction?" I asked before he could go get an up-close look at some pasties.
"Huskers 17, Spartans 13, and not even that close, really."
"So what's your take on the game, oh gumshoe guru of the gridiron?" Cassandra asked, half-mockingly. Ok, it was more like three-quarters mockingly, but I'll take a quarter of sincerity when I can get it.
"Standard Huskerfan and football fan logic would state it as: A. Wisconsin pounded Nebraska. B. Michigan State beat Wisconsin in a close game. C. Michigan State will pound Nebraska."
"Yeah, I can see that," Cassandra nodded.
"Hegelian dialectic," Lloyd added.
"Right. Here is another way of looking at Michigan State, at home, they are 5-0 and have knocked off some good teams, like Wisconsin, and Michigan, and some others, but they have really good stats against them and Youngstown State, Florida Atlantic and Central Michigan."
Lloyd cleared his throat. Cassandra leaned back in her chair, smiled and said, "Go on."
"On the road they are completely different. They lost, badly, to a weak Notre Dame team, and only managed 10 points against an Ohio State defense that was on the field all day long, and that the Huskers dropped 34 on, 28 in the second half."
"Where are you going with this?"
"Throw in the emotional ups and downs of a football season, and I don't think they can get juiced up for a fourth game. They hate Ohio State. Really hate Michigan, and get their kicks taking it to Wisconsin. Ask anybody who has played the game, and they will tell you that you just can't get emotionally 'up', for 12 weeks in a row. Here they are, huge emotional win against Wisconsin, that they have been hearing about all week. They have an early kickoff against a team that they think they should be able to roll pretty easily, since they beat Wisconsin. They don't have a history with Nebraska. None of these guys were there when Bo earned his first win in the Alamo Bowl. I think they will be flat, Nebraska will be better motivated and the time is ripe for Bo to dispel some of those 'Top 10 demons' and get a big win, and keep moving forward."
Cassandra clapped slowly. "Bravo, what is your score prediction?"
"Huskers 27, Thpartans 23. The real Spartans always did a much better job of defending their home turf. Plus, they are best known for a heroic, epic defeat. They get to add to that legend, today."
"One more prediction," I said. "The Blackshirts get their colors, today, before the game."
Husk-husk and on the qb.
We hadn't seen much of Mr. Davison. After our last encounter here, he had kind of vamoosed...if that's really a word. Anyway, his absence had allowed for us to concentrate on other, important things, like a few runaway cases, an embezzlement scheme and a background check for a security firm. Sheesh, talk about paranoid.
Now it was game time. We had gathered together to break down the game. This one is HUGE. Inside track for the LegendS division, lasting relevance in the National Championship debate, and a classic offensive strength vs. defensive strength debate.
"Lloyd!" I shouted to get his attention away from his iphone. "Tell me how the offense beats this Sparty defense."
"On the ground," he said, briefly closing his phone with a swipe of his finger. "Bo and Tim have to commit to the ground game and short passes. Sparty loves to blitz, and they trust their d-backs enough to play one and one and force the qb into a 'hot read' situation. The MSU front seven is tough and aggressive, but kind of soft against the run. Keep Taylor out of 3rd-and-longs, and use the run to set up play-action passes and the offense should be fine."
He reached for a sip of his coffee. Always the coffee, with Lloyd.
"I think the Huskers should run a few screen plays, traditional or bubble. Against a hyper aggressive defense, with the weapons at our disposal, can turn a short pass into a long gainer at any time. They just have to time it right, make one guy miss and paydirt, baby."
"How does the run-game enter into the picture, though?"
"We gotta commit to it. Pound them with the run all day long. It may take a half, or three quarters, but with the 8-man rotation our line uses, and the depth we have at running back, by the fourth quarter, the I-backasaurus Rex will be eating up yards, time and Spartan souls."
"Score prediction?"
"Huskers 35, Spartans 31."
I looked over at Cassandra, who seemed to be having a really good time. She was sitting all the way back, smiling and holding her drink as if to cover up her smile. "What's with you?" I asked. "Do you think Lloyd's off base, or something?"
"No, nothing like that," she said, laughing. "I don't get into your Husker break-downs. I just don't know enough about them to make anything I say relevant. I'm amused by watching how guys act in places like this."
"Yeah, it is kind of depressing," I conceded.
"Not at all, it's hilarious. Just watch how these guys will pony up cash, and drinks, I know this place does the 'Saigon Tea' trick for the girls, and do things that resemble the antics of naughty school kids who think the teacher isn't looking."
"Be careful, Preach might get offended."
"Who do you think I'm watching?"
Preacherman made his way back to the table, looking like the cat that ate the canary. Cassandra and I both laughed when he sat down. Lloyd had gone back to his apps.
"What?" Preacherman asked, looking slightly dazed.
"Nothing, man. Inside joke," I said as Cassandra tried to hide her ever widening smile. "Tell me how the defense does against the Spartans."
"Get this," Preach leaned forward enthusiastically. "We gonna break out the base nickle defense, and run peso on passing situations."
"Hmmm, interesting. Explain," I said.
"MSU's got no real ground game to speak of. We can drop five guys back into coverage, and let the best two linebackers roam. David and Compton can fill gaps all day long. MSU does not have a Monte Ball or a Chris Polk that can gouge way at you all day. With five guys covering, or six or seven as the call shakes out, it makes Cousins, their quarterback take that much more time to read a defense that he probably hasn't seen on film. All week long they've been breaking down the defense from this year, and we haven't run the base nickle. They won't know what to do, they'll have to adjust on the fly, and I'm not so sure they'll be able to do that well enough to come back and have success through the air, like they did against Notre Dame and Wisconsin."
"So your saying play to stop the passing attack, and dare them to beat us on the ground?"
"Exactly, in a nutshell. Where's my new girlfriend. I'm getting me some private time."
I though Cassandra's drink was going to come out of her nose, which would have burned, as Preach got up. "What's your score prediction?" I asked before he could go get an up-close look at some pasties.
"Huskers 17, Spartans 13, and not even that close, really."
"So what's your take on the game, oh gumshoe guru of the gridiron?" Cassandra asked, half-mockingly. Ok, it was more like three-quarters mockingly, but I'll take a quarter of sincerity when I can get it.
"Standard Huskerfan and football fan logic would state it as: A. Wisconsin pounded Nebraska. B. Michigan State beat Wisconsin in a close game. C. Michigan State will pound Nebraska."
"Yeah, I can see that," Cassandra nodded.
"Hegelian dialectic," Lloyd added.
"Right. Here is another way of looking at Michigan State, at home, they are 5-0 and have knocked off some good teams, like Wisconsin, and Michigan, and some others, but they have really good stats against them and Youngstown State, Florida Atlantic and Central Michigan."
Lloyd cleared his throat. Cassandra leaned back in her chair, smiled and said, "Go on."
"On the road they are completely different. They lost, badly, to a weak Notre Dame team, and only managed 10 points against an Ohio State defense that was on the field all day long, and that the Huskers dropped 34 on, 28 in the second half."
"Where are you going with this?"
"Throw in the emotional ups and downs of a football season, and I don't think they can get juiced up for a fourth game. They hate Ohio State. Really hate Michigan, and get their kicks taking it to Wisconsin. Ask anybody who has played the game, and they will tell you that you just can't get emotionally 'up', for 12 weeks in a row. Here they are, huge emotional win against Wisconsin, that they have been hearing about all week. They have an early kickoff against a team that they think they should be able to roll pretty easily, since they beat Wisconsin. They don't have a history with Nebraska. None of these guys were there when Bo earned his first win in the Alamo Bowl. I think they will be flat, Nebraska will be better motivated and the time is ripe for Bo to dispel some of those 'Top 10 demons' and get a big win, and keep moving forward."
Cassandra clapped slowly. "Bravo, what is your score prediction?"
"Huskers 27, Thpartans 23. The real Spartans always did a much better job of defending their home turf. Plus, they are best known for a heroic, epic defeat. They get to add to that legend, today."
"One more prediction," I said. "The Blackshirts get their colors, today, before the game."
Husk-husk and on the qb.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Post Minnesota
I just wanted to drop a quick line on a few impressions from the Minnesota game.
This is going to be a bit nit-picky, since one really can't complain too much about a game that was over by the half.
Taylor, there are still times that you try too hard. Third and goal from inside the one, even if it looks like you are stuffed, plunge ahead, don't ever pitch the ball, especially when Rex isn't expecting it. Fourth and goal inside the one has many more possibilities than fourth and goal from the six.
Rex Burkhead (I-backasaurus Rex) can single-handed turn a no-gainer into a three yard gain for a first down. Dear o-line, he shouldn't have to. Lots of good work from the guys up front, but short-yardage situations have been tough, this year.
The Husker receivers look good for the most part, except for a couple of hands issues. Bell had a drop when his feet went out from under him, and Turner had a drop that would have been an easy six. Marlow snatched a pass from the air that kept a drive alive for a good hands effort.
Brandon Kinnie showed he can bust a move when he needs to.
Odd series in the third quarter. 1st and 10 from the Gopher 34, deep pass to Bell, open in the end zone, clearly interfered with, no flag. 2nd and 10, deep pass to Marlowe, Taylor overthrew him like an Mid-East dictator. 3rd and 10, deep pass to Turner, ball falls into his hands and he drops it. Two things about this sequence. I completely get why Beck called three deep passes in a row, the receivers were all wide open every time. They blew past the corners on all three plays. I usually avoid coulda woulda shoulda, but the second and third attempts would not have been necessary had the interference call been made. The other thing, it's extra practice, up by 34 points, lets get some more reps for the play, why not?
The d-line looked pretty good. I like Chase Rome's nastiness, but he's got to reel it in to keep it legal. Bo informed him that a shot to a guys ear when it has absolutely no bearing on the play is quite unacceptable, and that the Nebraska coaches and fellow players view such acts unbecoming and simply will not be tolerated. There were probably some f-bombs, but I would be speculating.
Overall the D looked pretty good. One touchdown set up by a double-reverse-flea-flicker that the d-backs were still able to converge on. Gophers got in on a 3rd and goal play that the defense froze on when they heard the "ball" call. One touchdown against the second string, on a drive that was kept alive on a 4th and 2 completion that I thought the Gopher dropped as he went out of bounds. ABC did a horrible job covering the explanation as to why the "continuation" rule didn't apply. They were at a commercial. Not surprising. I think the game had ABC's regional third string unit. Note to ABC, hire some guys that actually know the rules, especially the one about how a backward pass is a live ball, OK?
General impressions for the rest of the country. Stanford is under-rated. OU should have been dropped into the fire for losing, at home, to the worst passing defense in the country. In two weeks, Illinois has gone from B1G contender to slightly better than Indiana. I have to wait two weeks for the LSU-Alabama game that is the de facto National Championship game. Sparty fan is now completely convinced that instant replay is the greatest innovation since TV dinners and the remote control.
Huskerfan will be lamenting and wailing the Sparty game this week with the following logic. Thesis: Wisconsin blew Nebraska out. Antithesis: Michigan State was better than Wisconsin. Synthesis: Michigan State will blow Nebraska out.
All apologies to Hegel.
One last impression, this dude is fast.
This is going to be a bit nit-picky, since one really can't complain too much about a game that was over by the half.
Taylor, there are still times that you try too hard. Third and goal from inside the one, even if it looks like you are stuffed, plunge ahead, don't ever pitch the ball, especially when Rex isn't expecting it. Fourth and goal inside the one has many more possibilities than fourth and goal from the six.
Rex Burkhead (I-backasaurus Rex) can single-handed turn a no-gainer into a three yard gain for a first down. Dear o-line, he shouldn't have to. Lots of good work from the guys up front, but short-yardage situations have been tough, this year.
The Husker receivers look good for the most part, except for a couple of hands issues. Bell had a drop when his feet went out from under him, and Turner had a drop that would have been an easy six. Marlow snatched a pass from the air that kept a drive alive for a good hands effort.
Brandon Kinnie showed he can bust a move when he needs to.
Odd series in the third quarter. 1st and 10 from the Gopher 34, deep pass to Bell, open in the end zone, clearly interfered with, no flag. 2nd and 10, deep pass to Marlowe, Taylor overthrew him like an Mid-East dictator. 3rd and 10, deep pass to Turner, ball falls into his hands and he drops it. Two things about this sequence. I completely get why Beck called three deep passes in a row, the receivers were all wide open every time. They blew past the corners on all three plays. I usually avoid coulda woulda shoulda, but the second and third attempts would not have been necessary had the interference call been made. The other thing, it's extra practice, up by 34 points, lets get some more reps for the play, why not?
The d-line looked pretty good. I like Chase Rome's nastiness, but he's got to reel it in to keep it legal. Bo informed him that a shot to a guys ear when it has absolutely no bearing on the play is quite unacceptable, and that the Nebraska coaches and fellow players view such acts unbecoming and simply will not be tolerated. There were probably some f-bombs, but I would be speculating.
Overall the D looked pretty good. One touchdown set up by a double-reverse-flea-flicker that the d-backs were still able to converge on. Gophers got in on a 3rd and goal play that the defense froze on when they heard the "ball" call. One touchdown against the second string, on a drive that was kept alive on a 4th and 2 completion that I thought the Gopher dropped as he went out of bounds. ABC did a horrible job covering the explanation as to why the "continuation" rule didn't apply. They were at a commercial. Not surprising. I think the game had ABC's regional third string unit. Note to ABC, hire some guys that actually know the rules, especially the one about how a backward pass is a live ball, OK?
General impressions for the rest of the country. Stanford is under-rated. OU should have been dropped into the fire for losing, at home, to the worst passing defense in the country. In two weeks, Illinois has gone from B1G contender to slightly better than Indiana. I have to wait two weeks for the LSU-Alabama game that is the de facto National Championship game. Sparty fan is now completely convinced that instant replay is the greatest innovation since TV dinners and the remote control.
Huskerfan will be lamenting and wailing the Sparty game this week with the following logic. Thesis: Wisconsin blew Nebraska out. Antithesis: Michigan State was better than Wisconsin. Synthesis: Michigan State will blow Nebraska out.
All apologies to Hegel.
One last impression, this dude is fast.
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