Top Nine and counting

It had been a S-L-O-W week at the firm, ok, partnership, all right; loose affiliation of like-minded confederates intent on a mutually beneficial outcome. See? That's why I should stick with crew.
Cassandra and I were sitting in the office, playing connect four, and going over some of the week's highlights and her countdown, of course.
She placed one of the yellow checkers (I always play red). "What's the deal with Alan Davison? One quick, little rude chat and he buggers off for good?"
"Nope," I replied, getting ready for a classic diagonal play. "He's out there, scheming, plotting, trying to come up with something show he's outsmarted us. That might take awhile, but he'll make a play sooner, rather than later."
"I have my top nine, now, if you're intgerested," Cassandra said, placing a yellow for a run along the base.
"Go ahead."
"Oklahoma is at number 9, and gets to host Texas A&M, a team that melts down easier than M&M's in a microwave. Nebraska is at 8, and playing Northwestern at home, probably the easiest of their four remaining games, and Arkansas is at 7, hosting South Carolina. We'll see if the best team in the East can beat the third best team in the West of the SEC."
I placed another red to cut off Cassandra's base run. "Did you see that story about the flight attendant that got beaten to death in Mexico?" I asked.
"Yes. Terrible. The vic was found naked, bound and beaten in his hotel room, right?"
"Yep. Looks like the perp had a huge rage moment after a stressor break-down, but it seems to me that the vic had to have known the assailant."
"So what are you getting at?"
"Just playing with the idea in my head. The time-line fits and everything. But I'm wondering as to the wherabouts of Mr. Davison at the time of death."
"That would be an enormous long-shot. Smart though. Off him in Mexico, and be back across the border before the body is even discovered. Organized. Scary." She shuddered as she placed another yellow.
"Keep going with your rankings."
"Oregon is sixth, at Washington, and will probably continue their north-west dominance. Stanford is fifth, at Oregon State, in a game where my boyfriend, Andrew, had better look a damn sight better than he looked the other night against USC. and Okie State is fourth, getting ready to dominate K-State." She dropped a yellow right in between my diagonal run, blocking me.
"We did get an interesting visit this week. Got an offer that I had to turn down, even though it would have been easy money." Maybe I should go vertical with my reds.
"What was the deal."
"Some heavy hitter lawyer wanted me to look into a traffic accident. It seems that some spoiled little daddy's girl whanged two bikers and then fled the scene. I just asked whether or not it was an on-going investigation. Lawyer said 'yes' and I said 'I'm out', I don't step on LPD's toes and don't even want a meet-and-greet session with Lieutenant Murphy, downtown. Lawyer even upped his offer, enough to make me weigh the risks in my head, but I still had to turn him down."
"Is this the case that I think it is?" she asked, dropping a yellow into one of the few remaining spots.
"Yep. It's not like she'll do any real time. A couple hundred hours of community service, but she'll not have to get fitted for an orange jump-suit." I placed a checker, if she chose the left option, I had the game.
"Game of the year is between my numbers three and two. Alabama and LSU. Two best teams in the country are in the same division of their conference. The SEC has won, what, six of the last eight national championships? The winner here just has to keep their nose clean and they can play for the whole thing in January."
"Against Boise State, right?"
"Yes. They are my number one team until proven otherwise. Yes, I think both LSU and Alabama would beat them on the field, but I'm going to be stubborn and keep them at number one until they lose."
"Fair enough. It's your list." I watched as she dropped her yellow checker into the board.
"Connect-4. I win," she said. She had a huge grin on her face, as I reached over and toggled the release bar.
"Let's go get a taco."
Husk-husk and on the qb

Spartan Accomodations

     I love being right, well, kind of right. In my pre-game post, I indicated that Nebraska should employ the base nickle defense instead of the 4-3 they've been running all year. Carl did me one better. He utilized Green Bay's 'Psycho' defense in obvious passing downs, which for Michigan State seemed to be third-and-greater than 3.
     Old-school, smashed mouth, slobberknockin' football is my favorite. Sure the kids are bigger, faster, and stronger than the kids in the long, long ago, far away time. but the principles are the same. Get there the fastest with the mostest and you win the engagement before it even starts.
     For having a really cool mascot, and an outstanding legend to build a football team and athletic department around, MSU sure does seem to have a lot of  ass-holes on the team. I'm not saying you shouldn't be edgy, or try to get into the other guys head, but play with some control to that edge. To be fair, if you want to be an ass-hole and cost your team fifteen yards, that's fine, I'll take it, swing away at the guy wearing a helmet, genius.
     Herodotus should be required reading for every football player. Why? Check him out for yourself.
     Blackshirts should be in lockers this week, at least in my humble opinion. Best performance of the season, and Bo pretty much let it slip during the post-game conference that they had been earned. In that vein I want to congratulate Ankrah, Steinkuhler, Rome, Cameron, Compton, Fisher, David, Dennard, Stafford, Austin, and Jean-Baptiste. I want to toss a couple extra shirts in the lockers of Evans, Thorell, and Green for not giving up and growing into their roles, even when surrounded by negativity. Plus one more for Jared Crick, who has more than earned his.

     Check out Coach Carl presenting the Blackshirt

     Rex Burkhead may end up as one of he all-time best running backs in NU history. He may not end up with the numbers of a Rozier or a Green, or have the highlight reel of Phillips or Jones, and I will pretty much guarantee he never gets the cover of Sports Illustrated, but play-for-play, pound-for-pound, this guy is one of the best and I would want him on any team I was coaching. Which is probably why 85,000 fans were holding their collective breath when he didn't get up after a third quarter play. This is a guy who always gets up. Leg cramps. Two plays later he caught a 27-yard TD toss from Martinez. Bo calls him a warrior. I dare anyone to disagree.

     I-Backasaurus Rex in action

     I like this big, physical, tough Big Ten Conference. It suits Nebraska and the way they play. I especially like how defensive linemen look in the fourth quarter when they are out of gas and keep looking at the clock wondering when it's going to be over. I especially like how Yoshi smiles and helps a defender up after all 320 pounds of him have been crushing him into the field turf.
     If Taylor Martinez comes Trick-or-Treating, tomorrow. I want to slip a guide of proper throwing mechanics into his treat bag. He's got speed, he understands the offense, he is a leader, but I really, really, really wish he would learn to step into his throws.
     Nebraska may have to play Penn State twice in four weeks. Their offense isn't that impressive, but their defense looks to be almost as good as Sparty's. Hmmm. They are 5-0 in B1G play and have the pole position for the LeaderS. If Nebraska wins out, Penn State would have one loss and could win their division with a 7-1 record. That would make a re-match for the B1G Championship game. But, get this. If Ohio State wins out, and Nebraska wins out, then there would be a Nebraska-Ohio State re-match. There is also still a possibility of a Nebraska-Wisconsin re-match, but a lot would have to happen, now that they have dropped two straight, to teams Nebraska beat.
     Nebraska should be back in the Top 10, now that Clemson, Michigan State and Kansas State each got dropped, yesterday. The University of Nebraska's Geological seismology department recorded a spike at 5:33 p.m., yesterday. Leading theories indicate that it was the sudden impact of Wildcatfans expectations meeting reality.
     I got to watch some Stanford and Andrew Luck. Based on what I've heard, I'm hoping that I saw the worst game of his career, because he did not look like future #1 draft pick against USC.
     Going to the Northwestern game, this Saturday. It's on the 5th of November, Guy Fawkes Day, or Bonfire Night. I have to get a 'V for Vendetta' mask and paint N's on it. I'll be sitting in the faculty section, so you'll probably be able to hear me. I'll be the only one cheering...loudly, anyway.
     Husk-husk and on the qb.

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.

Week 9 picks...weakly

     Tried to get an update from my crew on their research to the one and only Alan Davison. Also had to try to get their input for this weeks slate of weak games; except for the one in Lincoln, which will be epic.
      "Mr. Leroix," I called out into the ether. "What do you have going on this week?"
     "Ah tell you what, cher. Ah found out some intrestin' stuff on our ami, Alan, but deh mo impo-tant stuff going on is ah'm trying to use dis week to prepare for Le Grand game, next week."
     "Hit me with the good stuff, Leroix, and save me a Turbo Dog."
     "Shore will do dat," he laughed. "Fust things fust. Mr. Davison has been employed by a series of airlines for the past 15 years or so. He worked his way up de chain, flying for rinky-dink regional outfits until he got his shot at deh big time, workin' fo' one of deh big airlines. Until about a year ago, he just up and disappears. No employment record, no taxes, no nuffin'. It's almost lahk he done got erased."
      "Interesting. What are you going to do to occupy your time while you await Armageddon?"
     Ah'll jus' have to bide mah tahm watchin the Piggies from Arkansaw beat up on Vanderbilt. Ah don' know how much more an elderly Arkansaw fan could take, wit' dem comin' from behind every week. Dis week shouldn't be a prawblem. Piggies 34, Commodores 13. Down over in Georgiah, Le Tigres L'Orange have to go play the smart kids at Tech. Smart kids will lose on the field, but will get jobs working at NASCAR or the aviation industry or NASA. Wait, never mind dat las' one. Clemson 56, Smart Kids 31."
     I dreaded placing the next call, but it had to be done. "Bubba!" I shouted when the line picked up. Bad move.
     "What is your problem?" Bubba yelled at me. "I'm still hung over, and plan to be hung over. I still can't believe how badly the Sooners pissed down their legs...against Texas Tech," the last part sounded like a cross between a sob and a wail.
     "Just tell me what you know, Bubba."
     "I crossed checked the info that Leroix sent me with my contacts. It looks like this Davison cat started raising his profile as a tree-top flier, recently. My people think he's been making a name for himself landing loads from south of the border on unmarked fields in Texas. Nothing huge yet, but he ain't been busted and it seems that he is able to keep his mouth shut."
     This was some interesting info, but it didn't add up with the uniform. I had to put that element on the back burner.
     "What are you watching this week?"
     "The only thing I've got is Baylor rolling into Stillwater. This could be interesting, since I think RG3 can move the ball on the Cow Rapers. I don't think they'll have the juice to go the distance with Okie Lite's offense, but it will be closer than people think. Okie Lite 49, Baptists 41."
     "How are your Sooner's going to do against K-state?" I hazarded.
     "Right now I have a feeling that the match-ups work in OU's favor. The Purple Pussies don't throw the ball like Tech, and OU still moved the ball and scored, just didn't get enough stops from the D. This is K-State's come to earth game. Sooners 45, Pussies 24."

     I called up Marcus to see what his research had yielded. "Dude," he said, as usual. "This Davison cat may be in waaaay over his head. He's dealing with some heavy hitters from down South. The dudes he's gotten in with have a history of setting their mules up. They bring in one final big load, and when the mule goes to get his payment, there are feds all over the place with enough incriminating evidence to make them prime candidates to win a vacation at Club Fed. Only pilots too desperate or too stupid still sign on with them."

     "Hmmm. Cool. Good work. How are your picks coming?"

     "Dude, boring games. Wazzu has to go to Oregon to get drilled, easily a 63-21 game for the Quackers. Stanford goes to the bright lights of LA to spank the University of Spoiled Children. While both QB's will be playing on Sundays, soon, Stanford and Luck are way better. Like, 49-17 better, dude."

     That just left Grandma and Lloyd and their B1G picks.

     "Grandma, I called out, how's it going?"

      "Just fine, Deary. I found something interesting."

     "What's that, Grandma?"

     "It seems that our Mr. Davison was doing fine until some point after 9/11. There are some interesting things on the internet that go beyond the usual conspiracy hoo-hah. It seems that there have been an increase in cases of 'Stolen Glory' for first responders and airline employees similar to those guys that claim to be Iraq or Afghanistan veterans when the nearest they got to combat was shoveling shit in Louisiana. Apparently, there are whispers that Mr. D got drummed out of the Major Airliner business after a few too many  heated confrontations with stews on-board his planes when they didn't show him enough respect for being a pilot when 9/11 happened. Weird, huh?"

     "That's good stuff, Grandma. Let's have your picks, please."

     "Of course, Deary. Northwestern will kink the Hosers, but who doesn't, 38-21. My old Boyfriend and his Knitting Lions will handle the illness with a box of tissues. Illinois has gone from New and improved contender to same old pretender in two weeks. PSU 28, IU 14. In a battle of red-on-red, the Stinking Badgers have to go to the Horseshoe and play a steady improving Ohio State. Trap game, watch out Bucky, Brutus and the Buckeyes upset Bucky and the Badgers 23-21."

     Lloyd's picks were next. "I don't have anything fun to add, like everybody else. So I'll just do my picks for the LegendS home games."

     "You're stuck with me all the time, buddy. You get to do the interesting stuff up close and personal. Lay those picks on me."

     "Purdue has to go to Michigan. I have to go with Wolverhampton, but closer than people think, 31-28 for Shoelaces and company over the Boilmakers. Iowa has to go to Minnesota, play around at A.C.E.S. and kill rodents. 38-17, Hackneys."    

     The case of Alan Davison was getting more and more interesting. Just not as interesting as the big showdown in Lincoln. The ancient Spartans are best known for their heroic stand at Thermopylae against the Persians. I wonder if the MSU Spartans know that despite the stand, they still lost.
     Husk-husk and on the qb.

Top 10 shaken, not stirred

     Cassandra and I were waiting for Alan Davison, formerly Mystery Date, to show up. He had called the number on the card. I made Effie arrange the time and date. I was keeping him at arms distance, making him dance to my tune. If he wanted to play with the big boys, he'd have to play by the rules.
     "Our Lady" was nearly deserted, once the girls saw who we were, they went back to their cell phones, ipads, nooks and whatever other electronic distractions they had to pass the time on a slow day.
     I ordered an Oklahoma meltdown; double shot of bourbon and water, in a glass thinly coated with grenadine, and a dry ice chunk foaming away. It's served with a warning.
     After Cassandra finished talking to the waiteress/dancer about a Poli-Sci 400 class the dancer was taking, she turned her attention to her Top 10 and what we hoped to achieve with Mr. Alan Davison.
     "I want to throw him off balance," I said. "Today I want him to know that we're on to him, but I want to be completely dismissive. I want him to leave here thinking that we regard him as lower than snail crap, which we do."
     "What do you want me to do?"
     "Just keeping talking to me as if he isn't even here. Pretend he's invisible."
     "Gotcha."
     "It's down to ten teams with a legit shot at the big show," she said, grooving to the live version of 'Polly' coming from the speakers. "Nebraska is still there, but barely, at number 10, and they have a HUGE game with Michigan State. The winner lakes the Legends Division, for all intents and purposes, and gets a re-match with Wisconsin, who I have at number 9."
     I gave her a strange look as my drink foamed and sputtered.
     "Here's how I figure it. Wisconsin beat Nebraska convincingly, for their only loss. Michigan State got a lucky, fluky play, at home, to beat Bucky and the Badgers, and has lost convincingly to a Notre Dame team that is underwhelming. All in all, if I was doing a Top 11, that's where I would have Sparty."
     "Who do you have at number 8?" I asked.
     "Arkansas," Cassandra said, nodding her head to AC/DC's 'First Blood'. "They had to rally to beat Mississippi, but rally they did. Oregon is at number 7, after a convincing win against Colorado. Ok, who am I kidding? They way Colorado is playing, they would be lucky to beat an FCS school."
     Ouch.
     "Clemson is at number 6, and could probably be ranked higher if their defense was better. With as good as their offense is, they don't have to be."
     At that point, Alan Davison walked in, late, but he actually showed.
     One girl sighed and put away her nook, and got up on stage as Kiss's 'Domino' started playing. I waved him over, avoiding any pretense of not knowing him. He didn't exactly try to hide, since he was wearing his airline pilot/bus driver uniform.
     He sat down, I stared directly at him as he looked around, trying to get a fix on his surroundings. I sat silently, waiting for him to initiate conversation. He looked nervous in spite of whatever authority he thought his uniform lent him. I respect two uniforms; Military, especially if there is Ranger tab on the shoulder, and cops, especially when you hear the words, "You have the right to remain silent...". Outside of that, I don't have much time for uniforms, he might as well have been wearing a McDonald's uniiform.
     "So, I guess we are..." he started.
     "You are here to listen," I interrupted him, displaying contempt for him by being rude, and dictating that I was in charge. Psychology can be fun. "I know who you are. Who you are trying to protect, and what your game is. You are a guy who thinks you are King Shit on Turd Mountain because you drive an airplane around the sky. You are involved in an affair with a former client of ours who tried to pull a double-cross. Now you are trying to put pressure on us so she doesn't take a big time bath when the engagement is called off. Am I right?"
     "You don't know anything--"
     Cassandra jumped into the act. "I have Stanford at number 5. They simply obliterated Washington, and my boyfriend didn't even have to break a sweat."
     Alan looked flustered. Perfect. "Who do you have at 4?" I asked.
     "Wait, what are you --"
     I held up my hand to Alan. "The lady is talking," I said. "Let her finish."
     "Okie State. Unless they throw up on themselves like OU did, they should be playing for all the Big 12 marbles."
     "One more thing, O Captain, my Captain," I said to the sweating, squirming Mr. Davison. "You need to quit with the amateur detective game. I made you weeks ago. Your fieldcraft sucks and if you thought you could frighten or intimidate me, you're sadly mistaken. I've been frightened and intimidated by the best, and you're nowhere near the best. Please continue Cassandra."
     "I have Alabama at number 3, and LSU at number 2. Just so you know, I don't care what you want me to do, next Saturday, I'm not doing it. I'm watching Bama and LSU on TV. Deal with it."
     "Now wait just one minute--" Davison got in.
     "What? You're still here? I'm done with you. Go away. You aren't worth the time or effort. Go try to score one of the dancers, maybe she'll find you sad and pathetic like a lost puppy and give you a mercy date. Get outta my sight before I start singing 'Hail to the Bus Driver'."
     He sat there for a couple more seconds. His mouth worked, but nothing came out. His face reddened with rage and frustration. The meeting did not go as he had planned. It went exactly as I had planned. We had one last piece of business to attend to as he stormed away.
     "You know he'll be back, don't you?" Cassandra asked.
     "I know that as surely as I know that, despite all logic, you still have Boise State at number one."
     "Yep," she smiled. "That was too easy, don't you think?"
     I tossed back the rest of my drink. It was awful. "As easy as Boise State's schedule."
Husk-husk and on the qb.

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.

Hunting Golden Rodents

            Lloyd and I had cruised up to Minneapolis to catch the Huskers and watch the obliteration of the Golden Rodents of the University of Minnesota. Minnesota has a long and storied history of football success. Most of it happening before any of us had televisions.

            On the way Lloyd kept giggling at one of his favorite lines from 'Caddy Shack'.

Sandy: "Carl, I need for you to kill every gopher on the course."

Carl: "Sandy, correct me if I'm wrong, but if I kill every golfer on the course, they're gonna lock me up and throw away the key."

Sandy: "Not golfers. GOPHERS!"

            I know. It's funnier when Bill Murray does it.

            I had bought Lloyd a gift card for a place at the Mall of America that I thought he'd like. For 36 bucks he'd get a pre-flight briefing and 30 minutes behind the yoke of a P-51 Mustang simulator at a place called A.C.E.S.

            On the way, we did actually discuss the upcoming game, not that there was a whole lot to discuss. "What do you think the offense needs to do, Lloyd?" I asked.

            "Power run game. I-backasaurus Rex should go for a minimum of 100 yards, today. We can use this game to preserve Taylor's legs and minimize his risk, especially since a large number of Huskerfans seem to think he's going to break down at some point."

            "Does he need to throw the ball, much?"

            "Maybe some play-action stuff for a big play to demoralize the defense. I think that Beck might mix in some short passes to the backs and tight ends to keep the Gophers honest on D, make them pay if they load up eight or nine guys in the box to stop the run. If they do that I expect to see Kenny Bell all alone behind a Gopher corner. All-in-all, I think that this game is on the shoulders of the o-line, erode the defense's ability in the trenches and watch as three and four yard gains become seven and eight yard gains. Pop a few big plays and this game is over by half-time."

            As we waited for Lloyd's turn at the simulator, I could see he was envisioning himself as Don Blakeslee, Robin Olds or Chuck Yeager, taking it to the dirty Krauts in their 'Butcher Birds' and Messerschmitts. Even though they had an F4U Corsair simulator that he could use to re-enact 'Baa Baa Black Sheep' scenes, it was the Mustang I knew he would choose.

            After his briefing, he suited up and got into the simulator. Shortly he was cruising over the Ruhr Valley when he spotted a formation of Me-109's in a loose 'finger-four' about 10,000 feet below him. He kicked the Mustang into a dive and set his sights on the tail-end Charlie.

            As the 109 filled his gun-sight, he pressed the trigger and the six fifty-caliber machine guns barks a short burst. The German plane fell apart under his assault as he flashed by. He pulled back on the yoke and pulled up under the second target before they could react. Another short burst from the fifties smoked his second 109 as he gained altitude and traded speed for height.

            He was in a little bit of trouble now, he had knocked the odds down to a 2-to-1 fight, but it was still a 2-to-1 fight. Lloyd pushed the stick forward and dove toward the 109's, that were climbing up at him, they blended into the ground while Lloyd was silhouetted against the sky. He kicked his rudder to skid a bit and jinked to throw off their aim. In a great anticipation move, Lloyd unloaded a burst just before the Messerschmitts flashed by. He rolled the Mustang through a 180-degree roll and hauled back on the stick. one of the 'Schmitts was smoking and breaking off from the other, making it a one-on-one fight. The remaining 109 continued over on its back and looped over to dive inverted for the ground. Lloyd followed it over. The remaining 109 flew for the deck and started twisting and turning, trying to throw Lloyd's aim off. Lloyd opened the throttle and slowly closed in on the 109. They were barreling along on the deck, hopping over houses between buildings as Lloyd closed in for the kill. He closed the range to less than 200 yards, letting the Me-109 fill his sight as Lloyd pulled the throttle back and matched speed and kept up maneuver for maneuver with the last target.

            When he finally had had enough, Lloyd let loose with a long burst from his six guns. The 109 fell apart and crashed while Lloyd threw the throttle forward and pulled up into a zoom climb followed by a hard right stick that sent him spiraling upward.

            When he climbed out of the simulator, he had an enormous grin on his face.

            "If the defense plays like that," he said. "Swarming to the ball, taking on all blockers, regardless of the odds, and knocking down everything that comes their way, they can seriously talk about getting their Blackshirts."

            As we left, I noticed a maintenance guy checking out the Mustang simulator, shaking his head. I think Lloyd might have broken it.

            "I don't care if MarQueis Gray is a 'mobile' quarterback or not. This is the game where the defense shows whether or not the quantum leap they have made since halftime of the Ohio State game is real or illusory. Stanley Jean-Baptiste is starting at corner. I don't like the nickname of SJB, so I will call him 'Sting'. We'll see if that sticks," Lloyd said.

            "Who replaces Crick?" I asked.

            "The Crick injury may actually help these guys. I think Chase Rome will get the start, with Terence Moore getting a lot of playing time, too. The injury may help by giving these guys a rallying point. They see what Jared gave up, he could have been cashing big, fat checks for playing on Sundays, but he came back for the team. Each and every one of those guys can see an example of giving it your all for the greater good of the team, and can try to live up to that example by showing it on the field."

            "Stop thinking, just play your asses off," I said.

            "Exactly. Let's go find someplace that serves pints of bitter. We need to celebrate another successful return from the continent."

            "It'd be awesome if the D picked off four passes like your four kills," I said.

            "That would be awesome, especially if it led to a blowout."

            "How does 56-17 sound?"

            Lloyd nodded. "Tally-ho, baby."

Husk-husk and on the qb.