Confession time.
I did something early on Saturday that I rarely do, and I’m not proud. I must confess my Crimes to the Revolution: I texted several Sparty fans with less than encouraging words in defeat.
It was a cheap revenge for Appalachian State. A projection of my own inner Michigan Man angst and superiority complex onto people in a time of great sadness. It was, in all honesty, a cheap shot.
Because I was obviously the most important concern of the Fates that day, it was almost guaranteed that Tate Forcier and Michigan would not pull this comeback off. The timing was too perfect. By fore-saking the ideals of fandom we hold dear here, I had brought upon the defeat of the Revolution.
Forever in my own mind there would be the guilt that I’d ruined the man we’d all fought so hard for. I would have to commit football suicide, leave behind Michigan, and cast my lot as bitter, unbiased observer. Six figure paychecks from ESPN to rail on the darling of the week and generate “debate” while flinging feces balls called opinions at the camera would console me, but Michigan would be dead to me. After months of preaching, I’d broken my own laws. I’d gone to battle for Rich Rod and the Revolution, and turned my back when I had the chance to prove my loyalty. Unacceptable.
This was the litmus test of the Revolution. A loss here wouldn’t kill the cause immediately, but the repercussions would be long. Michigan might recover, but coming so close might hinder progress. Once you start falling behind, it’s hard to get going in the right direction again. A win boosts the program up a level. A signature win of the Revolution to point at, providing vast debate capital.
I guess there wasn’t any need to be nervous, as our freshman savior might say. This is New Michigan, and New Michigan apparently wins these games (for now…).
Tate Forcier possesses a charming, insecure self-confidence. Behind his bold proclamations you hear an attempt to convince himself he’s exactly as good as he says he is. He goes into detail explaining how he scored a TD instead of praising God and his teammates and moving along. That’s understandable – he’s new to this situation.
I’m not trying to knock him. When comparing the two QBs, I always thought Denard owned the SWAG line. Maybe Tate’s the guy. If Saturday is anything like his future, the rest of the country is going to loathe the name Tate Forcier. A cocky, smug at times, and very good QB running the offense at a resurgent Michigan? He’ll be inescapable. Instead of hating Michigan for being boring and getting blown out in the Rose Bowl, the rest of the country will hate Michigan because of that little prick running the offense and kicking ass. I love it.
There were a few threads scattered about the intewebs last week that wondered “what happened to Martavious Odoms”. There were also some spectacularly assholish posts in the off-season that tried to bring him down.
You want to talk about swag? How about this little dreadlocked demon coming up with two massive catches during the drive? He gets absolutely clocked on the first one, but pops up and heads right back to the huddle. Did I mention he might be our best blocking WR? Odoms is legit, yo. Recognize.
Tay, as I affectionately call the guy I have never met in my life and would likely laugh at my ridiculously cornbread style, emerged as perhaps my favorite player on the team last year. Something about a scrappy little dude with dreads and top end speed makes my motor turn, mostly because he makes me think of Da U transplanted to Ann Arbor. That’s a long time fantasy of mine.
Does that mean I want a bunch of “thugs” running roughshod over the Big Ten and shooting each other in the streets? Nah. But I do enjoy watching angry, dedicated young men PUT THEIR HEART IN THIS SHIT and stomp some people with a vicious streak that makes the old folks a little uncomfortable.
Odoms is a tough bastard. His catches weren’t routine on that final drive. He dug in for a low pass, had a ND defensive back dry humping him like the Black Eyed Peas were playing and they were at a Junior High lock-in, and oh yeah you’re down 34-31 to ND with under a minute left. No sweat. That is some phenomenal, grade A SWAG – playing a relatively quiet game, a quiet season, and then bringing the playmakin’ in the biggest drive of your young Michigan career.
Now unfortunately, the outstretched hands of a ND defender weakly tipping a pass meant for LaTerryal Savoy robbed him of a well earned shot at Wolverine immortality. The ball bounced off his leg, fell to the ground, and a lot of people lost hope. I wasn’t in control of my mental faculties anymore, so I don’t even know if I lost hope. I certainly lost control of my bowels.
What a lot of people are going to forget, but is forever immortalized in the unbiased black and white of the play by play, is that Savoy caught the two previous passes that set up his oh-so-close touchdown.
Helped by the confident maneuvering of Forcier in the pocket and the sledgehammer blocking of Minor and the offensive line, Savoy had gotten open long enough to bring Michigan from FG prayer to 3 shot at the end zone – certainly a significant difference.
Life is cruel, and Savoy just didn’t get that score. He’s relegated to the backburner because now Greg Mathews is the hero (as much of a hero as one can be when compared to our new Lord and Savior Forcier, the Tebow of the North) and there’s nothing he can do about it.
Yeah, that Greg Mathews. The guy I actually somehow almost forgot was on the team when they mentioned him at the start. Me? Drinking? Never ….
Remember just a few days ago when Greg was Suspect #1 for “current player sources” in The Story? Yeah, I mean, I agreed with that theory … turns out it’s probably not true. I doubt he’d still be around, and I don’t even more he’d be busting his ass to make his cut and get open for long enough that Boy Wonder could deliver him the ball in the corner of the field for the winner.
When I watch, re-watch, slow down, watch again, and watch that final TD some more, I see a guy running aimlessly through the end zone because he was probably in the same mental state I was – shaking, screaming, confused, a little frightened, and about to collapse from pure excitement.
Ah, the duality of life.
At least it turns out the Universe isn’t out to screw me so much as I’m a narcissistic paranoid bastard. Good to know for future reference.
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