They succeeded.

Today, the Navy calls him the guy that embarrasses them every year*. The Fighting Irish call him….

TOP QB

*2007, 2009, and 2010 didn’t exist…why the hell is everybody acting like they did?

—————————

Tommy Rees packs up his locker for the last time after the 2013 season. The road was long and imperfect, but he did what he came to South Bend to do. As he reflected on his Irish football career coming to end, Brian Kelly enters the room.

Kelly: [Grinning ear-to-ear with a cigar in his mouth] How’s it feel to be on the front page of every newspaper in the English-speaking world? Even though Michigan State denies that you cost them the title, congratulations! They gave you your choice of duty, son. Anything, anywhere. Do you believe that shit? Where do you think you wanna go?

Rees: I thought of being a coach, sir.

Kelly: TOP QB?!

Rees: Yes, sir.

Kelly: [With a knowing smile] God help us.

—————————

Rees arrives at an undisclosed location in San Diego, California. He figured that the TOP QB coaching would take place in South Bend as it always had, but orders are orders and he knew better than to question them. As he settled in to his office, he hears a knock on the door…

Voice from outside: Hey, it’s Jester.

Rees: [Whispers to himself] So we’re still doing this call sign thing, huh? [Louder and to the door] Come in.

Evan “Jester” Sharpley enters through the door.

Rees: What are you doing here?! I thought you were running training camps out in Indiana?

Sharpley: Not today, hotshot. I have additional orders. [Sharpley tosses an envelope labeled “CLASSIFIED” on Rees’ desk] We have a new recruit to get ready and fast. The 2014 season is approaching and we don’t have a lot of time.

Rees opens the letter that reveals a piece of paper that simply says “Cougar is back”. Rees has a confused look on his face.

Sharpley: Something a matter, Maverick?

Rees: Seriously, why are we still using call signs?! I swear, Coach Kelly goes on one Top Gun binge after losing to Navy in 2010 and everything just got weird. Who the hell is Cougar?

Sharpley: Have you already forgotten so soon? [Leans in to whisper] It’s Golson, Mav. Golson.

Rees: Why are you whispering like it’s top secret? That’s not how call signs work–you know what, forget it… So that’s why we are all the way out in San De–

Sharpley: AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, MAVERICK!

Rees: Jesus, there’s an ESPN truck right outside George Whitfield’s camp, everyone knows where Golson is right now.

Sharpley: [Getting angry] You mean, Guru, Mav.

Rees: [While facepalming] Fine…why are we out here in this classified location to train Cougar while Guru has been doing just that for the entire year.

Sharpley: He’s missing on crucial element before he’s ready to return to South Bend.

Rees: And that is?

Sharpley: Shirtless. Volleyball. Montage.

—————————

The 2014 season has just passed the midway point after a tough loss to Florida State. Everyone has returned to South Bend as the bye week closes and Rees notices Everett Golson has been staring at something on his computer for the past hour and Rees notices he has broken into that same cold sweat that he did right before Rees was bumped up the depth chart.

Rees: Everett, what’s wrong? What are you watching?

Golson turns his computer around and presses play.

Rees: [snickering] Well, I guess those Middies have to win something. Missed a trolling opportunity though. Not a single mention of cut blo–[notices Golson is terrified]–wait, what’s wrong? What’s on your mind?

Golson: My team, sir. I let them down the other week and I just got back here…I’m so scared…

Rees: Come on, we’ve seen things like this before–

Golson: Not like this, sir. Not all wiped out by a flag. I needed to make one more play and I couldn’t. I’m holding on to tight…I’ve lost the edge.

Rees: Lost the edge?! Give me a break. You don’t convert 4th and freakin’ 18 without an edge, much less a 4th and goal that was executed so well the refs were convinced something was wrong. It happens.

Golson: But…that flag…

Rees: Look, you are in the top 1% of all quarterbacks in college football. The elite. The best of the best. Notre Dame will make you better. You’ll be in practice every day, attend classes in between, and have your performance evaluated on the field every Saturday. Now in every game, you’re going to meet a different challenge. Every game will be much more difficult. ND will push your game right to the edge of the envelope. Each game will be faster than you’ve ever played before–and more dangerous. Now, we can’t control all the flags here, Everett. The referees do that. We simply go out and play the game.

Golson appears to have calmed and nods his head in agreement. Rees starts to walk out of the room, but pauses, and turns back for Golson.

Rees: Remember, Everett, there’s no points for second place.

The Roundup

And this is one of the reasons why I delay the Roundup now. Because big stories like Dave Brandon resigning have a habit of breaking after I hit “publish”.

Now this is a throwback. Well done, Aggies.

Want to know how many points TCU scored last week? They burned through all their fireworks against Texas Tech. For the season.

If you ever think your CFB life can’t be any worse, just remember, you could always be a Pitt fan.

If that doesn’t convince you, try imagining being on the wrong end of some of these plays.

More dominoes are falling in college athletic reform. The Pac 12 is next up by passing quite a few very beneficial changes.

Hatin’ Ass Spurrier refuses to take a bye. And did he ever bring it this week.

And now, your moments of Nix… Yes, moments, because I’m not even going to try and decide between these two:

Brian Kelly on Tyrone Willingham: "He loves to play golf." Kelly did note he beat Willingham when they played together

— Irish Sports Daily (@ISDUpdate) October 30, 2014

Hands down my bros win best costume @DaVarisDaniels and @K_Moore8 pic.twitter.com/RXO9Miht5U

— Jarron Jones (@Who_GotJones94) October 31, 2014

The Booze

This week, I have two variations of the same cocktail. One appears to be on the sweeter side and the other uses bourbon. Chose your weapon wisely:

Shipwreck (sweeter variation)

• Fill a shaker with ice and the following:
  • 1/2 oz Midori
  • 1/2 oz Malibu Rum
  • 2 oz Orange Juice
  • 2 oz Pineapple Juice
• Mix and strain into a highball glass
• Top with 1/2 oz Grenadine

Shipwreck (bourbon variation)

• Fill shaker with ice and the following:
  • 1 oz Bourbon
  • 1 oz Aged Rum
  • 3/4 oz lime juice
  • 1/2 oz simple syrup
• Mix and strain into highball glass
• Garnish with mint leaves and 3-4 dashes of Angostura bitters

The post Friday Roundup: The “Top QB 2014” Edition appeared first on Her Loyal Sons.

Debates centering around change at Notre Dame infuriate me. Part of it has to do with my steadfast belief that Notre Dame doesn’t receive the benefit of the doubt that they can do change well. That doesn’t mean that I believe ND is perfect because, let’s be honest, to crawl out of the abyss that life after Lou Holtz brought, ND has changed presidents once, athletic directors twice, and Kelly is the fifth head coach hired since Lou (because yes, George O’Leary happened). So while I can understand concern in the change debate, I’ve found it hard to reconcile some of the slippery slope arguments that I’ve seen.

And then a look at Michigan. This has to be the nightmare scenario for the status quo crowd.

Dave Brandon appears completely tone-deaf to the fans and alumni of Michigan. Cries of Michigan football creating too much of a corporate, money-making atmosphere matter not to him. Alumni have been angry about this new direction and students have been upset with changes to their seating policy as well as prices for tickets increasing in the face of terrible Michigan seasons and equally poor home schedules. Even Notre Dame fans have reported that the game atmosphere in the Big House now is horrendous in comparison to previous years.

The entire Shane Morris debacle served as the last straw for many Michigan fans. The circus Michigan threw together in trying to handle the PR disaster only made matters worse. A random post on MGoBlog called for a student rally to call for Brandon’s head. The folks behind the site were more than happy to promote and encourage the idea in hopes to kick Michigan into action.

The fallout, however, hasn’t gone in the direction any Michigan fan had hoped. The rich folks (aka the real power) seem to be circling the wagons in defense of Brandon. Brandon went to the media in private interviews, starting first with the student newspaper, and absolved embattled head coach Brady Hoke of all blame for putting Morris in danger. The entire medical staff at Michigan found themselves thrown under a bus and now Brandon will implement a new policy to have a “medical replay official” in the press box to prevent the situation from happening again.

Brandon acts as if he knows he’s bulletproof. I’m certain Hoke will still find himself fired upon the end of the season, but it will be for wins and losses and nothing more in Brandon’s mind. Brandon will then make another (likely sub-par) hire much to our delight as Irish fans because Michigan appears more concerned with a bottom line on a balance sheet.

Perhaps eventually the cries will become too much and Brandon is let go. The aforementioned MGoBlog is most certainly trying their damnedest to stoke that fire. Another post on their board posted a screen shot of a rather curt email from the hated AD. The problem though is that the original email that caused it hasn’t been released. However, later in that thread (yes, I read the whole thing), Brian Cook, the Michigan man behind the site, stated that based on previous emails from Brandon sent to him, he believed that this was worth filing a FOIA request over.

That’s the point Michigan fans are now at: FOIA requests for emails to prove their AD is a dick because they don’t feel Michigan will can him. And, for them, this all started with a few changes away from the tradition that they felt was Michigan.

Could you imagine Notre Dame in this same scenario? I still don’t personally believe Notre Dame would ever come close to that road, but I also imagine Michigan will be exhibit A for reasons to be concerned about proposed changes.

So thanks Michigan, you have now managed to throw so much jet fuel on to your tire fire that it’ll likely spread to ND debates in the future. You can’t even fail properly. I know I’m laughing right now (with the exception of the Morris situation because I’m not that evil), but I can see this causing headaches in a future debate. Thanks, jerks.

The Roundup

Michigan has clearly made bad decisions. But it’s okay, we all have.

And in the file of terrible ADs: Steve Patterson. In last week’s Roundup, I spoke out his rocky relationship with Notre Dame, but now he looks ready to piss off every taxpayer in Austin.

Roll Teenage Witch. Melissa Joan Hart, this is creepy.

Ole Miss is definitely rising in the SEC. Congrats the full-fledged NCAA investigation! S-E-C! S-E-C!

This is sad week for basketball fans everywhere. Red Panda has hung up her unicycle. The bowls are now back in the cupboard. Halftime shows will never be the same.

BAH GAWD, KING, THAT’S WEST VIRGINIA’S MUSIC! I have no idea what prompted them to stage WWE matches in their locker room, but it’s hilarious.

Take a virtual tour of Brian Kelly’s office. Seriously, this is a really cool photo gallery that ESPN put together.

Is Schmidt going to get a movie? I definitely have to agree that he is certainly finding more success than another well-known ND walk-on.

Another week in the academic investigation, another week of no news. KeiVarae Russel voiced his displeasure on Instagram and the Observer has called for more transparency in what has been an incredibly long process.

And now your moment of Nix…

https://twitter.com/oaknd1/status/517687036338507777

The Booze

In honor of Stanford week, I present to you the Irish Lumberjack, a twist on the Irish Coffee concept:

Ingredients:

• 2 oz Bailey’s
• 1 oz Irish Whiskey
• 1/5 tsp Cinnamon
• 2-3 oz espresso
• Half and Half
• Milk

Pour Bailey’s and the Irish Whiskey and the brewed espresso into a coffee cup. Add in the half and half until the cup is 3/4 full. Steam/froth the milk and top off the cup. Garnish with the cinnamon.

Now, for those of us that don’t have the fancy coffee equipment (/raises hand), go to your favorite coffee stop (even McDonalds will work because it’s the booze that’s important) and order a café latte and spike the sucker with the booze, topping it off with cinnamon.

Granted, this isn’t a drink that you’re going to consume all game. So once you have this in your system as a kick-starter, if you want to continue the lumberjack theme you can brave maple flavored whiskey. Personally, I find that too sweet for my taste, so after I make my tree joke via beverage, I’m going for the Oktoberfest brews before ALL PUMPKIN EVERYTHING kicks in full-force.

The post Friday Roundup: The “Sum of All Fears” Edition appeared first on Her Loyal Sons.

Recently, the script for Notre Dame football ends in nightmares.

The 2012 season, and the events that followed after it, serves as a perfect example. After an undefeated season, everything came crashing back down to earth as Alabama demolished the Irish. The destruction of our dreams didn’t end there. The feel-good story of the season, Manti Te’o dealing with the tragic death of his girlfriend and excelling to a Heisman-caliber level of play, transformed into a PR disaster and added the term “catfishing” into many a vocabulary. A few months later, Everett Golson found himself dismissed from Notre Dame.

Granted, 2012 was full of fantastic moments and memories; however, when the time came to close the book on the season, the final pages were filled with nothing less with some of the most awful things that we could imagine.

“Ow, my balls.”

“Hold me, I’m Irish.”

These became better descriptors for Notre Dame football than “Play like a Champion Today” or “Win one for the Gipper.” Good things would happen, but, eventually, the other shoe would drop.

Travelling to Notre Dame this past weekend, I couldn’t help but think the end of the Michigan series would have a similar disappointing and painful end. And, yes, I had these feelings despite the fact that I was confident ND would win comfortably. That’s just what ND football does to my brain.

Just think about everything that happened leading up to this game. Notre Dame finally got to be the one to put a hiatus on the series. The final game would be a home game. Jack Swarbrick stuck it to Michigan by announcing a series with Ohio State in a clear message that there are no plans to revive the series anytime soon.

I will forever remain convinced that Swarbrick firing that final salvo Michigan was in direct response to Michigan’s reaction to the cancellation. Dave Brandon told anyone in the media that would listen of Swarbrick’s cruelty. Brady Hoke began the “chicken” narrative that he damn well knew fans would grasp on to.

Notre Dame couldn’t have asked for a clearer path for final vengeance. They could go 2-1 since the cancellation notice, killing the chicken narrative for anyone with a brain. With Brandon determined to channel his predecessors’ arrogance in ND relations, he all but guaranteed that such a result would stick for the remainder of his tenure. His constituents could beg him for a rematch, but we’d let the phone ring when his name shows up on caller ID.

You couldn’t ask for a better set up for a storybook ending on our end. That meant something had to go wrong.

Truth be told, while 2012 is a great example of our dreams falling back down to earth, 2011 is the bigger culprit, especially in regards to Michigan. 2011 should have gone down as a beautiful ass-kicking of Michigan under the lights if the game had ended after the three quarters. But that fourth quarter was played and instead of a 24-7 win, we had a 35-31 loss.

No loss had ever stung so bad. I had never been so angry about a ND result in my life, Bush Push included.

That game marked the first time that my wife realized I care way too much about ND football. Instead of running for the hills years ago, this Southern Illinois alumna sat next to me on the flight into O’Hare airport, excited to spend a weekend with myself and our friends at Notre Dame whom we hadn’t seen in almost four months at the day of our wedding. As we prepared to take off, the plane stopped mid-taxi and we were informed that we’d be stuck on the runway for an hour and forty-five minutes. Thankfully, the delay was only a half-hour; however, any temporary relief quickly disappeared as our flight was suddenly diverted to St. Louis.

As we waited for O’Hare to give us clearance to resume our flight, I received some text messages from my friends that had arrived in our rental house. A power line by the house went down and half of our block was without power. Soon after, two more members of our eleven person group informed us their flights were cancelled. Soon after that, we received word that he had been cleared once again for takeoff–and right before I put my phone away, I saw on Twitter that Ron Washington, the manager of the Texas Rangers, my other love, had abruptly resigned for “personal reasons” that still aren’t clear today.

What in the hell just happened? An anxious pit in my stomach, born in 2011, resurfaced. Before we took flight again, I expressed my concern on Twitter and saw this reply:

https://twitter.com/IDtheMIKE/status/508055912582742016

Son of a bitch, that’s right. I have to write about this one way or the other. Please be the greatest retribution win ever, please.

The rest of the evening went much smoother than the flight. The house got power back so we didn’t have to drink beer with LED headlamps on anymore. And, of course, it’s Friday night, we are back at Notre Dame, and that means one thing: ‘Backer.

To no surprise, we had to stand in an hour and thirty minute-plus ‘Backer line in the rain since everyone and their uncle was in town for this game, tickets or not. At some point in that slightly miserable existence, I noticed dehydration had kicked in. Fun fact: a steady diet of caffeinated drinks that begins to take over your usual water intake as a result of a hectic work and blogging schedule that further results in little to no sleep will cause your body to start hating you because you have made poor life decisions.

But into the ‘Backer I went and decided double-fisting a long island and water would get me through. That gameplan quickly switched to water-only after swallowing yet another cup of poison, but, dammit, I was going to close this place down tonight. This is my one ‘Backer trip this year.

Yes, body, I know I’m too old for this shit. A smarter person than I would’ve been very concerned that they are unable to sweat in this crowded mass of humanity and left. Unfortunately for you, body, I am drunk and can no longer make good choices. I’m not drunk on ‘Backer long islands, but on being here at Notre Dame, my second home, in the shittiest of all shitty dive bars that I have the deepest of love for because of all kinds of illogical reasons. I’m sure if we asked Joe Theismann, he could come up with the worst quote ever to put on a shirt to describe it, but the point is that I’m going to dance with my wife, hang out with my friends, and pretend I’m 22 for few more hours and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Well, expect for the drinking water part. You win that battle.

See, I have grown up.

Thankfully, I acquiesced to re-hydration demand from my body. I woke up the following morning feeling like a normal person once again. Unfortunately for my poor body, that meant that I was fully ready to tailgate my ass off for about ten hours:

Not pictured: the forty I was drinking during this time and the shotgun that caused the spill on my jersey.

I would come to find out later that posting this picture on social media made a lot of you concerned about my potential well-being for the remainder of the day, including concern that I would fail to make it to the game. Truth be told, even the people with me were questioning my decisions at the time.

Silly people, there would be no way in hell, copious amounts of morning alcohol or not, that I would miss this game.

Sure, my morning sprint required that I take a breather and sober up a bit on the way to campus (and get drunk again while tailgating), but I made it to the stadium, happily buzzed and ready to watch ND beat Michigan. As an added bonus, at this point, my capacity for worry about potentially disastrous things happening on the field was long gone.

Until Everett Golson called a timeout to avoid a delay of game penalty on the very first play of the game.

Okay, that’s a bit rough, but maybe we’ll be fine–oh, nevermind, he had to call yet another time out. Oh, sweet, the drive’s over. 6 plays, 14 yards, and two timeouts dead–all in three minutes and eleven seconds. The efficiency in which we shot ourselves in the foot? Kind of concerning.

Here comes Michigan with three plays and two first downs. Well, I’m sobering up in a hurry now. And now there’s a fourth down conversion. Oh hey, terrible 2011 feelings, there you are again. I didn’t miss you at all, can we please make this stop?

Thankfully, Michigan’s kicker heard my screaming internal dialogue and sends his field goal attempt well wide-right. For once, I’m thankful NBC has long TV timeouts so I can calm the hell down.

Golson returns to the field and, in almost half the time it took Michigan to miss a field goal, puts together an 8 play, 71 yard drive. Joy has returned, but more so, relief. The lead is nice, but taking advantage of a Michigan failure is even better. 10 point swings are good.

Yes, I’m choosing to ignore the fact Notre Dame used it’s last timeout on that drive. Shut up, 2011 feelings, LEAVE ME ALONE.

Michigan begins another drive with promise. That promise dies in a spectacular blaze of glory with a field goal attempt that doesn’t even reach the endzone on the fly. I do not yet know that Michigan’s kicker shanked the attempt so bad ND partially blocked the kick with a facemask because that was apparently where Matt Wile was aiming. All I know from my vantage point is that it’s the worst field goal attempt I’ve seen in recent memory and I’m laughing my ass off.

After trading punts, the Irish are driving towards my seat in overlooking the south endzone. I see Corey Robinson make a wonderful play, diving just short of the endzone. From my vantage point in the corner, I’m slightly offset from the goal line, but I know he isn’t in. Whatever, we will just punch this in from the…three?!

“The previous play is under review.”

Well, thank God. That spot is terrible, B1G refs. I’m glad our new ACC friends in the booth will correct this injustice.

“The ruling on the field stands.”

I hate everything.

The 2011 feelings are back again, taunting me. I tell them to shut up, but they get louder as both Tarean Folston and Golson fail to punch it in the endzone on the next two plays. The jubilant screams of 80,000+ drown them out as Amir Carlisle hauls in a Golson pass for a touchdown.

With only 3:58 left in the half, I know this stand for the defense is beyond crucial. Sheldon Day knows it too. That’s why he shoves a Skunkbear lineman all the way into Devon Gardner who panics, tries to hold on to an attempted pass and fumbles. Notre Dame doesn’t recover, but they didn’t need to. The resulting 3rd and 20 on the 17 yard loss kills the drive.

Notre Dame gets the ball back damn near in Michigan territory thanks to a 12 yard punt return by Cody Riggs. My excitement for seeing an actual Irish punt return quickly subsides as I realize the realty of the situation: Golson has 1:24 left to take the Irish 56 yards and he has no timeouts.

He needs only 50 seconds.

The Irish go into the half up 21-0. I’m beside myself. This doesn’t feel real. The Michigan fans spotted around me are even more stunned than I. They’ve been silent all game, completely shell-shocked by the first half. As the break winds down to a close one mentions that crazier things have happened before in this series. Perhaps Michigan could find a way to come back.

2011 is back. It fled from my body and possessed other people and is now speaking through them. I need this demon slayed in the worst way.

Max Redfield does his best to answer the call. His first career interception couldn’t have come at a better time. Michigan is on the ropes now after their first drive fails in spectacular fashion, unfortunately, their defense counter-punches by giving the Irish their first negative yard drive in the game. The momentum starts to creep towards the Michigan sideline.

But sometimes the unlikeliest of heroes manage to stand. Like Neville Longbottom pulling out the Sword of Griffindor to halt Voldemort’s army, Kyle Brindza and the Irish punt coverage team pin Michigan on the two yard-line. Momentum continues to wear blue and gold.

Michigan can only reach their own 32. They pay for their failure with another Notre Dame touchdown. The score is 28-0, there is 3:02 left in the third quarter. 2011 is nowhere to be found. After another Gardner fumble, like many Michigan fans, 2011 departs from Notre Dame stadium.

Molly, you asked me earlier this week when I started to get greedy and want the shutout. That fumble was the moment. The forth quarter was just around the corner and 28-0 wasn’t enough. A win wasn’t enough. I wanted blood. I wanted the shutout. The entire crowd wanted the shutout.

So did the ND defense. In 2012 Denard Robinson fashion, the next play that Gardner got resulted in an interception. Kyle Brindza adds on three more points for good measure. 31-0.

Michigan doesn’t even cross the 50 again until the forth quarter is well past its halfway point. It’s now 4th and 10 on ND’s 22. Michigan is so close to actually running a play in the red zone for the first time all game. The lone Michigan fan in our section is begging Hoke to play for the field goal. I become slightly aware of Michigan’s scoring streak thanks to his cries. I have no idea this will be the first time Notre Dame will ever pull off the feat. I have no idea that it will be the first time Michigan will be shutout in 365 games and the first time a non-conference opponent will do this to them since the 1920s.

I’m not sure if Brian VanGorder knows. I’m not sure if he cares. He wants the shutout just as much as the Notre Dame faithful that are, in a move not often seen in the stands with a 31 point lead in the forth quarter, all on their feet screaming for blood. VanGorder gives it to them and brings the house. I do not see the fist pump, but it is unknowingly fueling my joy.

https://vine.co/v/OuYHajJMHFh

At this point I see the student section waving. A few minutes earlier, I was hoping we’d sing “Goodbye” to our enemy should this result hold. I’m straining my ears, hoping that’s what’s happening. It was. I join in on the chorus. It is the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.

https://vine.co/v/OuYgia6jdx5

Michigan receives one final chance to save themselves from embarrassment. Gardner delivers his final act of failure, this time into the hands of Elijah Shumate who runs all the way into the endzone. The clock reads 0:00, 37-0. It’s over.

@HLS_NDtex pic.twitter.com/yKfYg1bFQ5

— ??BayouIrish?? (@HLS_BayouIrish) September 7, 2014

I’m jumping around in seats once occupied by Michigan fans. My cracked voice strains to deliver the amount of joy I’m feeling. My wife has as big of a smile on her face as I do and I’m sure she thinks I’m acting like an idiot right now.

I don’t care. Neither does she. We both remember 2011. Fuck 2011. That game is dead, gone, and we will never speak of it again. 2014 is all that matters and Michigan still hasn’t scored.

The B1G officials, however, aren’t aware that the game is done. They have issue with Max Redfield delivering a block to Devin Gardner.

The block is delivered from the side and Redfield hits Gardner square in the front of his shoulder. Michigan fans will later call this a dirty hit and the B1G officials agree. Roughing the passer is called, the touchdown is removed from the board.

And not a single Notre Dame fan in the stadium gives a damn.

We aren’t even aware what the call actually is. We can’t hear the officials and we are too busy laughing at Michigan players sheepishly trotting back on the field so Zaire can run an untimed kneel down. We all have pictures of the 37-0 scoreboard right now and 31-0 isn’t any less embarrassing.

So enjoy that final act of B1G defiance, Michigan. It matters not.

I wouldn’t go to sleep for another 6 hours. I would manage to become drunk again for the third time in 24 hours while enjoying s’mores by our house’s firepit. I would wake up tired and hungover as hell the next morning. Much like that worthless penalty at the end of the game, I didn’t care.

I got my storybook ending. It couldn’t have been written any better if I had penned using my wildest dreams. We beat Michigan–no, we destroyed them. We ended them. They won’t get another shot for years. We got the last laugh.

Michigan went back to the same well they usually do in response. It’s just one game, the B1G title is what really matters after all. Some of the usual suspects tried to rationalize that the loss really wasn’t that bad because, after all, they gained more offensive yards than us!

But Michigan still hasn’t scored.

The End.

The post Notre Dame and Michigan: The End appeared first on Her Loyal Sons.

After pouring his morning beverage, his phone predictably rang. He had been waiting for this.

“Hello, this is Jack.”

“YOU SORRY SON OF A BITCH!” screamed the voice on the other end.

“Well, good morning to you too. Now who might this be?” asked Jack, full well knowing the angry voice was none other than Dave Brandon.

“Don’t you play dumb with me, Jack.”

“Why so tense today, Dave? Why the angry phone call. Did someone forget to pay for a pizza?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Indeed it isn’t. An unpaid pizza is an unforgivable crime. Hang on a second,” Jack said trying to contain his laughter as he screamed across the office to no one, “DID ANYONE ORDER A PIZZA? ANYONE?”

“Jack, stop being an asshole. This joke is never funny.”

“Hold, on an intern just walked in,” half chuckling to himself Jack continued talking to thin air “You ordered the pizza…ok…you paid…forget to tip…OH!” Jack returned to the phone again to torment his victim. “Dave, we did in fact order a pizza, but I was just told we’d never order the shit that is Dominos when we have a Pizza Hut on campus.”

“DAMN YOU, JACK, STOP! YOU KNOW THIS IS ABOUT OHIO STATE!”

“Why are you pissed at me for failing a two-point conversion last season? I had nothing to do with that.”

“Jack, I don’t understand why you are being such a dick right now.”

“Oh you don’t? Hold on let me send you an email that will explain it.” Swarbrick already had the draft ready to go. One click of the mouse and yet another needle would antagonize Brandon.

Over in Ann Arbor, Brandon opened Jack’s message to see only this:

“Can you and your school not let that crap go? It’s been a century for crying out loud.”

“Let it go? Look, Princess Elsa, if it weren’t for Yost’s irrational hatred, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. We could be an annual conference opponent, but noooooo–some small little Irish Catholic school beat Yost’s juggernaut so he took his ball and went home.”

“Yes, yes, I know the story, Jack. Then he blackballed you from the Big Ten while refusing to schedule you. We know. What does this have to do with scheduling Ohio State?”

“Everything,” said Jack pausing to take a sip of scotch, “Look, I know when football gets involved, academics go by the wayside over there, but even you should know that every action has a reaction. Every decision, a consequence. Yost put the wheels in motion for our independence and no one at Michigan ever tried to correct the course. So by the time the Big Ten came knocking in the 90’s, we preferred to close that door rather than give up the national schedule and rivalries that we had in place. You know, the one that Yost forced us into in the first place.”

“Again, telling me nothing new here, Jack.”

“Again, Dave, that decision in the 90’s mattered two decades later when Jim Delany decided he wanted to turn the college football upside down with his conference expansion. Every action has a reaction, and in this case, the eventual reaction was the death of the Big East. So now, instead of Notre Dame being a happy little member of the Big Ten since the early 1900s or even in the 1990s with a nine-game conference schedule, I’m forced to start looking for a place for all our other sports to play. I brokered the best deal that I could, but the five game agreement with the ACC practically gave us an eight-game conference schedule of our own with Southern Cal, Stanford, and Navy. Something had to give, Dave.”

“Do you like hearing yourself talk, Jack? You kicked us to the curb and scheduled another Big Ten team with that so-called ‘impossible’ to handle nine-game conference schedule. Somehow it worked out just fine.”

Jack’s smile somehow grew even larger. Now was the time to lower the boom.

“Well, I suppose you have a point. There’s only one small issue. If you recall, back in the summer of 2012, you wanted a two-year break from us. It was like that phone call you get in a relationship when you say you want to ‘see other people’ for a bit and see if you can’t pick up right where you left off. But even prior to that in 2011, you saw the nine-game conference schedule coming and told people that you simply couldn’t live in a world in which the Big Ten forced you to have only four home conference games and one of your other three non-conference games, namely us, would be in South Bend. That would leave you just one home game short of your magical seven home games, which I figure would be a favor to you anyways considering how your ticket sales went this year. The way I see it, we did you a favor.”

“This is the same load of crap you said in 2012 when you canned the series, Jack. You still need to explain Ohio State.”

“Oh that–well you remember that BS you feed to the press that I blindsided you, even though I freakin’ called you before the game to let you know it was coming? Or Brady Hoke calling us ‘chicken’ for the decision? Or someone thinking they were cute by playing the chicken dance over the Big House PA last year? You’ve all handled this situation about as well as Yost handled his first loss to ND. After a century-plus of our relationship really being about Michigan’s convenience, you wanted to make us the bad guy. And mang,” said Jack slipping into his best Razor Ramon impression, “if you want us to be the bad guy, chico, we are more than happy to play along.”

“Wait, wait,” said a now slightly confused Brandon, “You mean to tell me you are actually petty enough to schedule Ohio State out of spite?”

“Call it petty if it makes you feel any better. I call it righteous rage and a well played middle finger in your direction. I mean, have you read our press release yet? I called this a great move from a strength of schedule perspective, just so other people would take a look at just how far mighty Michigan has fallen. Brian Kelly even called it an even of “huge national significance” just to throw some shade at Hoke’s comments earlier this season. While you chose to very publicly and loudly paint us in the worst light possible, we prefer to respond with a calculated, under-the-radar approach and have everyone else do the dirty work for us. The nation is already laughing at you and I haven’t said a single direct, derogatory insult to Michigan in public.”

“We are going to beat the living piss out of you Saturday, Jack. This will move will motivate Michigan in ways you can’t even possibly imagine.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Dave. Remember, the last time you came to South Bend, our best player and fans rallied around the death of someone that didn’t even exist to take you out. But this hate? It’s real, it’s damn real. If you think our boys don’t want to paint our new turf red with Skunkbear blood and wash it with the tears of the Ann Arbor faithful, you’ve got another thing coming. Once we hand you the beating you deserve, you’ll go back to Ann Arbor and, Dave, your failure as Michigan’s AD will be complete. Angry fans will beg you to get ND back on the schedule so they can have hope to end the torment of their final loss. You’ll try to come crawling back to us and I won’t so much as pick up the phone as long as you’re still the AD.”

The other end of the line fell silent. All Swarbrick could hear was heavy, angry breathing and a pound on a desk from the other end. He could restrain himself any more, he had to laugh.

“Tell you what Dave, just to prove I’m not that much of a jerk, I have a couple more presents for you. You sound really tense. You need a moment of zen–well, actually around here, we call them moments of Nix–but anyways, let me send you another quick email to make you feel better.”

The silence on the line was broken up by a few mouse clicks and the sounds of the video Jack sent Brandon:

After hearing what he swore was a monitor being thrown across the room, Jack continued, “And I’m sure you need a drink or two while you’re here witnessing the death of the program you run. So there’s an entire crate of Arrogant Bastard Ale just for you. Don’t worry, no one will touch it, it’s got your name on it after all: Arrogant Bastard.”

The next sound Jack heard was the slamming of a phone and a dial tone. Jack gently placed his phone back in place and finished the rest of his drink as reward for a job well done. His eyes went to the corner of his office, “I’m surprised you managed to stay quiet this long, Everett.”

“And screw up that epic trolling effort? Never.”

“Well, my role in this play is over. It’s time for the final act, Everett. I usually don’t call players into my office like this. I don’t want people to think I’m interfering with Kelly’s job like that idiot that just hung up on me. All I want to do is ask you a simple favor. I need you to destroy them, Everett. You have the chance to claim final victory on over a century’s worth of piss-poor relations with these assholes. Break their spirit. Leave no doubt.”

Jack paused as he examined his empty glass before returning his gaze to Golson a final time.

“End them.”

The post Friday Roundup: The “Sticking It to Michigan” Edition appeared first on Her Loyal Sons.