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.

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.