Tales from the Heart of Huskerland

In a weird way, sitting in the middle of the Big House surrounded on all sides by Michigan fans while being subjected to Dr. Khaki's own personal brand of the Ludovico technique wasn't as bad as it sounds. It was still awful, don't get me wrong, but it was more of the "Wow! I've been throat stomped so many times that this doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it used to!" kind of awful. It still hurts, but hey, I've lost so much blood by now that I think I'm going to pass out soon! Hooray!  Of course, like during many of Nebraska's recent blowout losses, I wasn't physically bound to a chair with my eyes forced open by a pair of metal pincers. I could have left any time I wanted to. The only restraints placed on me were the mental ones, the fiber of my being which refuses to leave early or stop watching no matter how bad it gets. And unlike the last 2 Ohio State debacles, we actually got to see what Michigan's punter looks like! He lo

There was a moment last Saturday when the worst case scenario flashed through my head. 0-11 And it was also at that moment that I realized I had underestimated the enormity of Scott Frost's task here in Nebraska. I had to remind myself that the last time Nebraska had a team as bad as Mike Riley's 2017 team kids were doing Duck & Cover drills in class to "protect" themselves from the inevitable arrival of Soviet nuclear bombs. I can easily imagine some Nebraska fans in 1957 sitting through some awful blowout loss looking up to the sky in the middle of the 3rd quarter and screaming "C'mon Nikita! Just nuke us already!" Not many, myself included, took into account hard hard it is to completely erase bad habits and the mentality of going into every game expecting the lose & lose big. And while Frost and staff may have been able to put a charge of confidence into these players, when you're defending a 3rd & long with the game poten

Imagine this, it's Christmas morning and you begin creeping down the stairs, adorable little footy pajamas and all. Waiting under the tree is a big present wrapped in red with a bow on top and draped in ribbons. You know what this present is. You've begged your parents for it all year and have been sneaking peeks at it in the upstairs closet every day for the last month. And now it's finally in your hands! The wrapping paper feels so sleek, perfectly stretched over the enormous box with no wrinkles. All the troubles tormenting your little 8 year old soul have melted away because you finally have this present clutched in your trembling pre-pubescent hands! HAHAHA SCREW YOU WORLD!!! You can't help but scream. You can't believe it. You're freaking out like the Nintendo 64 kid. And just as you begin to peel back the wrapping your parents come over and RIP THE BOX OUT OF YOUR HANDS, THROW IT INTO THE WOOD-CHIPPER THEY HAVE LYING AROUND THE LIVING ROOM FOR