I'll give you one thing, MAMU folks, you make it easy.
Growing up, I was always taught to see State as the far lesser of the two mitten evils. Sparty was basically a quaint affectation for the Michiganders who had just enough dignity not to be sucked into the Walmart Wolverine cultural vortex. The Green and White...the cute superhero mascot...the occasional moderate successes. MSU was the lighter, sweeter Michigan that most folks could stomach with a minimum of gagging and dry heaves. Michigan State wasn't the good guys per se, but in the geopolitical landscape of the Big Ten, the East Lansing gang was Italy: a half-hearted ally and an uninspiring foe.
Needless to say, the sporting fortunes of the Spartans have improved as of late. Your team won a Rose Bowl! An actual Rose Bowl! Way to go, little guy! (Yes, I said your team. I didn't say you won a Rose Bowl. This isn't the SEC.) It was truly a game for the ages. Smash-mouth running. Gritty defense. The 4th down stand. Great, great football. Plus, we all have to admit that Michigan State really did solid work to stanch the bleeding of recent B1G Rose Bowl outings (lookin' at you, Bert). To top it all off, your humble and underpaid coach did it with a crop of guys most of the power programs spurned.
This whole affair should be a feel-good story for the ages, with a feel-good headline...
Local Boy Makes Good!
Ugly Duckling Becomes Other, Less Ugly Bird!
So, why do we dislike Green? Why do we loathe White? Why hate State?
The answer is you, the faithful MSU fan. Sparty Nation (yes, I'm calling you that and I hope you #$%ing hate it) has ruined everything likable about MSU. Your program's brisk rise to moderate success has been matched by an equally speedy regression on the part of its fans. Legions of once docile MSU supporters have transmogrified into a throng of trolls so thick that any blog that dares mention Sparty suddenly looks like the line for the bathroom at a Warcraft convention.
Quite simply, no one really hates MSU. Everyone hates you. You remind me of my Soldiers after a long deployment to Iraq. You spent countless months in squalor, and now you're home and you're insufferably flush with what, to you, seems like a small fortune. You've spent the last year cleaning out Best Buy, getting bad tattoos, putting really loud mufflers on your trucks, and getting hellaciously drunk at bars where girls pour shots from a bottle between their boobs. Hell, you make Penn State fans look classy. You make Michigan fans look congenial. That's tougher than winning a Rose Bowl.
The good news for the rest of the B1G is that, like my soldiers, we know you'll run out of money soon and the rest of the unit will laugh/cringe while your Mercedes gets repossessed at lunch. Why? Because you're Michigan State. Your fanbase lacks the class to act like you've been here before because...well, you haven't. Not really. Hell, when was MSU's last Rose Bowl before they hit it big in the Pasadena scratch-off lottery last year? 1988? What has MSU done in the interim? One outright B1G title. Uno. Oh, and John L. Smith.
Success isn't something you do consistently. It looks awkward on you, like a Russian suit. Yet here all the Sparty fans are, humping the fur off each other's legs about some three-star kids from the less Sarajevo-like parts of Detroit, all of whom are surely hidden gems. Every comments section becomes a tire fire on a garbage barge, complete with GIFs of the only five truly good passes Connor Cook threw all year.
There's the real rub: MSU as a school isn't even really that hateable. It's a nice place, though not much to speak of academically (ranked below Rutgers...eesh). And the location? Well, Ann Arbor was already taken, wasn't it? But hey, dairy store! You've got that going for you.
Fortunately for the rest of us, you're only a season or two away from obscurity in a conference that has itself flirted with obscurity for some time now (#B1Gwetfartnoise). But for the moment, have at it. Just know that while we hate you for being more obnoxious in the past year than a pack of caffeinated preschoolers with kazoos, we also feel bad for you. A long walk in the wilderness is in the offing, especially when a big name program comes calling for Dantonio and Narduzzi (and they will...don't fool yourselves... no one aspires to coach at State).
I'd worry that one of you overzealous little Spartans would come burn my house down, but you'll be too busy setting fire to the comments section and proving my point.