Don’t believe a word of what follows. In fact, don’t even believe that. This past Wednesday, in the eyes of those dirty, free loving yippies, yours truly became untrustworthy. But the peaceniks eventually nestled into Hummers and now they parade numbly down the highway, each locked inside an armor-plated womb. There’s little you can count on these days – on to football.
It’s apropos that Saturday’s game will be televised on pay-per-view, as the ending has as much uncertainty as the medium’s breadwinner: pro wrestling. But then again, Maryland’s dreams of taking home the belt were headlocked then bodyslammed by the Huskies in a shocking curtain jerker to open their season. Northern Illinois does not have a single player with enough talent to play for a Miami or an Oklahoma, but they have many players with something far more dangerous. They all believe.
This magic act is the footprint of good coaching. And a well-coached team should never be looked past. Ask Texas. Or better yet, ask Arkansas, who awaits the Tide for round two in this year’s SEC slugfest. Ask them, but not before Sunday comes.
Until then, wait for the explosion. Hope that the Brodie can earn himself the second half off. Pray for the healing powers of sideline fanaticism. Send some money the Snake’s way, or at least block for him and watch as he channels some of his playing days’ scramble when the taxman comes.
Roll Tide.
Friday, September 19, 2003
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