This year is tough for me. I want to keep hating Michigan with my usual fervor. The Walverines and their slack-jawed fanbase, smelling of Pall Malls and sporting Wayne State diplomas, are as detestable a group as you'll find this side of ISIS. At least they used to be. Lately, my conscience has been getting the better of me (small and feeble though its voice may be). Isn't there some sort of "Mercy Rule" in hating your rival? Some requisite invocation of pity and humanity toward a helpless creature? Even Mad Max couldn't kill Blaster in the Thunderdome.
When a program--even one so deserving of a long walk in the wilderness as Michigan--is "finally back on track" for the third time in 7 years, it's pretty hard to do anything but pat them on the head and tell them that we can't all be National Champions.
Or B1G champions.
Or Division Champs.
Or go to a bowl.
Or win 6 games.
Or win 5 games.
Or not lose to Rutgers.
Or not shamelessly beg people to attend the live showing of the weekly slaughter when they buy a Coke.
Or buy students donuts just for showing up.
Or hire a walking PR mushroom cloud as an AD.
Or let him set fire to the program and alienate fans.
Or tack an extra row of seats into your miserable stadium in a desperate bid to be the best at something.
If I'm honest, it hurts my heart a bit. I used to look forward to The Game. For years, I reveled in the stupid Michigan looks on stupid Michigan faces as the Buckeyes ruined November after November for the drooling masses who pray to Ann Arbor. Now look at you. Look at yourself. Do you even think about November in terms of football? Or is it just the month when you can all put on your elastic pants and microwave a turkey? You don't even care. You probably don't even groom yourselves anymore. If you were dogs, we'd have to cut the clumps of Harbaugh out of your fur to make you presentable.
The worst part about it all is that the years of mind-numbing mediocrity has reduced the entire fan base to pre-verbal mouth-breathing Minions. An entire army of blue &
yellow "maize" simpletons who mutter unintelligible sounds over and over to their own amusement. It's cute that you're excited. Remember, RichRod was a "proven" college coach, too. Hell, he won more FBS games than Harbaugh. And he was less of an asshole. Which is ironic, since he got run out of town for being an asshole. I'm sure Harbaugh's the answer though. Never mind that my dog could get 10 wins in the Pac-12 with Andrew Luck under center. This is how cults start.
This is all really just a long-form way of saying that Michigan is still basically the same brand of finely distilled delusion that I've always hated. It's just a tad harder these days. Because they used to be worth hating. Now they can't win enough games to earn the chance to carry on the Bo Schembechler "Michigan Man" tradition of returning from a bowl game with their tails between their legs. So we're stuck with the breathless BTN announcers fawning over the "storied Michigan program" while the $59 production budget brings us a live feed of the best day at Rutgers since the invention of the tanning bed and the Plan B pill.
Speaking of New York city watershed, last week marked the final show for David Letterman. An alumnus of a school that already knows how to make new Michigan QB Jake Rudock cry, Dave brought laughter and joy to all of us with his folksy midwestern charm. So in the spirit of a fond farewell to our gap-toothed jester, let's count down the...
Top Ten Reasons to Hate Michigan Until the Earth Falls into the Sun.
10. Desmond Howard's continued speaking role on television. "I can't wait to see this team's offense take on that team's defense. There will be lots of tackling and offensive plays. That reminds me of my Heisman..."
9. Just when you think Dantonio is out of shoulder chips, out comes a tent stake.
8. Three hours of watching the interpretive dance that is Adidas football uniforms.
7. Calling that eye-searing urine color "maize."
6. Mike Hart. Everything he ever said, combined with all the nothing he achieved.
5. MGoBlog comments.
4. Maintaining a level of arrogance so thoroughly divorced from the reality of their own buffoonery that Donald Rumsfeld once sent them a note saying "Tone it down, guys." It's a phenomenon not unlike GM's inability to recognize that they'd fallen into decrepitude and become a bankrupt also-ran. I'm not saying there's a correlation, but the geographic proximity isn't an accident.
3. Giving websites with 1920s football stats a reason to exist.
2.5 Pete Mote
2. That ear-grating cacophony of lies they call a fight song. Touchdown? Play Hail to the Victors. Interception? Play Hail to the Victors. Michigan fan gets maced? Hail to the victors. Guy in the latrine splashes
urine "maize" on his own pants? Hail to the Victors.
1. Making MSU's little brother act seem so damn palatable in comparison.
In closing, get ****ed Michigan. You disgust me. And now I have to treat you with kid gloves because you're a joke.