I hate to do this. I really do, but I'm going to have to throw the flag.
"Personal Foul on Nebraska. 15 yards for targeting our hearts."
In my last blog I wrote about the magic of season openers and what we witnessed against Fresno State was truly special. In a night dedicated to the life of Sam Foltz, we all experienced something I've come to truly love about Nebraska football. Call it a sense of community, family or a sense of togetherness. It was on full display last week and it's definitely not the first time Husker Nation has come together like this.
I bring it up today, a week later, because on the morning of September 11th I'm reminded of a Nebraska game against Rice played on September 20th, 2001. On that day, firefighters and service men marched with flags ahead of the Huskers through the Tunnel Walk. The stadium roared.
I'm also reminded of a day in the April of 2013 in which a 7 year-old cancer patient rumbled 69-yards into the end-zone for a touchdown. It's okay to admit you cried. I mean I didn't, because I'm a big tough man, but it's okay if you did. (Although I'm not sure how I missed Kenny Bell's unbelievable block when I saw it live in person).
We may not admit it and we may not even realize it, but I think that's what we really love about sports. That shared experience is what we crave. I'm not sure why, maybe it's how we justify watching a bunch of sweaty 18-22 year-old kids wrestle each other into the ground.
It's not just these special heartwarming moments we crave either. We join together as a football family in other ways too. Throughout last season and through the off-season, many of us joined together to scream "RUN THE BALL!" at our TVs and on social media. Together, we scared the living crap out of our pets and had a blast doing it.
Somewhere up in the coaches box last week against Fresno, I pictured a disgruntled Danny Langsdorf with a bottle of Jack Daniels grumbling "You want me to run the ball? I'll run the damn ball!"
Sometimes we get this sense of community booing refs. God knows we've had enough ammunition the last several games. I'm not going to lie. There are few things in life as satisfying as the roar of 90,000 people booing in unison to let that stupid white cap know he went and done messed up. Now I'm very selective with my boos. I never boo players. I only boo refs and I save my boos for only the worst of calls, usually the ones dealing with targeting.
Yesterday, we all witnessed a referee reach an unprecedented level of stupid. That's right. College football history was made yesterday at Memorial Stadium. Of all the football I've watched in my 22 years of life, I don't think I've ever seen a player flagged for simply handing a ball to an opposing player. The refs flagged that with no hesitation, yet they somehow failed to flag the Wyoming player for hurling that ball right back at Nate Gerry. Apparently that's not a personal foul. I guess Gerry should have chucked the ball into the Wyoming defender's face instead.
Or perhaps recent history would suggest that the simple act of being Nate Gerry is a personal foul.
Anyway, participating in the chorus of boos that followed was one of the highlights of my day. Talking with my family about how stupid that call was after the game was another. Funny how college football works like that.
"Personal Foul on Nebraska. 15 yards for targeting our hearts."
In my last blog I wrote about the magic of season openers and what we witnessed against Fresno State was truly special. In a night dedicated to the life of Sam Foltz, we all experienced something I've come to truly love about Nebraska football. Call it a sense of community, family or a sense of togetherness. It was on full display last week and it's definitely not the first time Husker Nation has come together like this.
I bring it up today, a week later, because on the morning of September 11th I'm reminded of a Nebraska game against Rice played on September 20th, 2001. On that day, firefighters and service men marched with flags ahead of the Huskers through the Tunnel Walk. The stadium roared.
I'm also reminded of a day in the April of 2013 in which a 7 year-old cancer patient rumbled 69-yards into the end-zone for a touchdown. It's okay to admit you cried. I mean I didn't, because I'm a big tough man, but it's okay if you did. (Although I'm not sure how I missed Kenny Bell's unbelievable block when I saw it live in person).
It's not just these special heartwarming moments we crave either. We join together as a football family in other ways too. Throughout last season and through the off-season, many of us joined together to scream "RUN THE BALL!" at our TVs and on social media. Together, we scared the living crap out of our pets and had a blast doing it.
Somewhere up in the coaches box last week against Fresno, I pictured a disgruntled Danny Langsdorf with a bottle of Jack Daniels grumbling "You want me to run the ball? I'll run the damn ball!"
Sometimes we get this sense of community booing refs. God knows we've had enough ammunition the last several games. I'm not going to lie. There are few things in life as satisfying as the roar of 90,000 people booing in unison to let that stupid white cap know he went and done messed up. Now I'm very selective with my boos. I never boo players. I only boo refs and I save my boos for only the worst of calls, usually the ones dealing with targeting.
Yesterday, we all witnessed a referee reach an unprecedented level of stupid. That's right. College football history was made yesterday at Memorial Stadium. Of all the football I've watched in my 22 years of life, I don't think I've ever seen a player flagged for simply handing a ball to an opposing player. The refs flagged that with no hesitation, yet they somehow failed to flag the Wyoming player for hurling that ball right back at Nate Gerry. Apparently that's not a personal foul. I guess Gerry should have chucked the ball into the Wyoming defender's face instead.
Or perhaps recent history would suggest that the simple act of being Nate Gerry is a personal foul.
Anyway, participating in the chorus of boos that followed was one of the highlights of my day. Talking with my family about how stupid that call was after the game was another. Funny how college football works like that.
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