chance of bowl: 13.6%
Ballot links go here.
Like... yay and stuff.
The Original Al Montoya was Marty Turco--and he, you know, won stuff. The always-quotable former Michigan goalie got some ESPN chat time and used a portion of it on this:
Q: What were those four years like for you at the University of Michigan?
A: They were awesome. I went in so inexperienced and naive
. I was physically so small. I was 19 years old, 5-foot-10 and 156 pounds, walking into the Big Ten and one of the biggest hockey programs. Being in an environment where you are surrounded by good people and good intentions, where the goal is to go to school and win hockey games -- it's great. That program really helped define me as a young man and provided a great foundation for me as a goaltender. In the end, walking away with a lot of wins and two national championships got me ready, to say the least.
Q: When you were at Michigan, who was the bigger sports star, you or Tom Brady?
A: I'd have to say myself. Tom was relatively unknown. He didn't play much. He was way back on the depth chart. I was playing every night. Hockey was big. It was a harder ticket to get than football back then because we played in such a smaller venue. But he's got a few legs up on me since then.
Q: Especially since Tom Brady made People magazine's list of the 50 Most Beautiful People. How did they forget about you on that list?
A: [Laughs.] I'm not that pretty.
Q: Do you keep in touch with some of the other varsity athletes that were with you at Michigan?
A: To this day, I still hang out with the point guard from the basketball team, Travis Conlan. I golf with Travis, and Brian Griese [Tampa Bay Buccaneers QB]. The three of us always get together in the summer to reminisce for a few days when we're between seasons.
What about Bobby Hayes, Marty?
Uh... thanks, I guess. SMQ on Michigan:
...nobody in college football runs the screen pass better, year-in and out, than Michigan.
I guess that's something.
Michi-blog roundup: RBUAS offered up the best description of Chad Henne possible before the Iowa game:
[After MSU] For the most part I thought what I had thought all year. That "Henne # 7" was just a jersey, and that various talents ranging from NFL quarterbacks to high school band members put it on at random points of a game...
And this isn't Michi- or -blog, but whatever, here it goes: the O-Zone's Michigan Monday, complete with pointed comments about refereeing.
Yost Built has a recap of the hockey team's 3-3 tie against MSU that somehow barely mentions the blight upon the CCHA that is Mark Wilkins. Wilkins declared an exact replica of the Paukovich check that nearly killed a North Dakota player--the entire reason the NCAA freaked out and made ever check from behind a major and a game misconduct at minimum--to be a two-minute crosschecking penalty. He then gave Tim Cook a major and a suspension-causing game DQ later for something that seemed far less dangerous. I still hold by my Mark Wilkins Theory: extraordinarily ugly people become referees simply so they can travel around pissing off home crowds in a vain attempt get some measure of revenge at the "normies."
Yes, sort of like bloggers.
10/22/2005 - Michigan 23-20 Iowa - 5-3, 3-2 Big Ten
Last second victories are great--much preferred to last second losses. But it begins to wear on you when the team ends up staring grim, possibly peg-legged defeat in the eye week after week, playing bingo for the souls of Michigan fans everywhere.
Thus the difference between my reactions at the end of the Penn State and Iowa games. When the New Math cradled it home I spent minutes hopping up and down, screaming things that were only vaguely English. When Jerome Jackson fell mercifully into the endzone, I pumped a fist, muttered something about running on third and five, and needed some valium and a nap. Instead of elation the primary emotion was relief. It was still a good time, but once in a while I would like a relaxing time. I would like to make it Suntory Time.
That's why this column is posted on Monday instead of the OMG WOOHOO 12 PM Sunday stamp "The New Math" received. I spent Sunday on other tasks, reading books I've read before, fiddling with bits, etc. I've got no poetic to wax after the Iowa game, no nicknames to bestow. Just like invoking the name of your demon-kitten god over and over, the punch behind a nailbiting victory is reduced when it comes after a season of nailbiters. Fatalism takes over. We will either win or we will lose, but we deserve whatever Angry Michigan Safety Hating God decides to give us.
Still, it's nicer today than it would have been if the final score was something like 21-17, extremely probable-seeming until Kirk Ferentz decided to Lloydball his way into a game-tying field goal by running rather passively on first down inside the redzone. That was odd, especially given that Drew Tate had been near perfect all day. Paired with Michigan's run run run punt with three minutes left that was a carbon copy of the mistake Carr made against Penn State and vowed never to make again, it was akin to games of tetherball I watched as a child where one popular kid would play another popular kid. Whenever a game would come close to finishing, the loser would say "okay" and the winner would let up before the final death blow. The game would continue as I stood in line, silently planning my evil revenge (unconsummated to this day).
The cumulative effect was as if the Universe was indeed Trying To Kill Nana, if by "Nana" you mean me, by ratcheting up the pressure week after week until critical tubes in various life-sustaining portions of my body decided that structural integrity was as overrated as Texas Tech. Eventually you have two choices in life: go starkly bats or shut off, repress things, and set yourself up for post-traumatic flashbacks. I chose door number B.
That's a shame because that was a hell of a run by Breaston and a hell of a catch by Avant, but I've got all my tubes in working order. So I've got that going for me.
(no, I don't really know why the grim defeat is possibly peg-legged.)
The following probably says something terrible about our consumption-based society or whatever, but mostly I just think it's sweet (video will take a while to load as I am primitive and this is much larger than it has to be and not streaming):
If you'd like to download the file and keep it forever-ever, (and who wouldn't?) click here. Also, if anyone knows of some good open source video editing software, please inform me of its existence.
Blogpollers and assorted hangers-on are invited to post comments of any sort regarding the state of college football here; leave trackbacks or links to your posts about games you watched and sit back and revel in your genius.
Michigan's picked up a commitment from NY DE John Ferrera, a three star guy who was totally off guru radar screen as far as I know. Michigan's sent out a second wave of offers to a bunch of three stars since this is looking to be a bit of a down year in recruiting. Ferrara appears to be the first to accept the offer.
You should probably be on the look out for MI FB/LB Obi Ezeh's commitment in the near future as well. That is, unless you think he's seriously considering Indiana or directional Michigan schools. Ezeh's commitment would essentially end Michigan's linebacker recruiting since Michigan already has three in the fold (MI 5* Brandon Graham, OH 4* Cobrani Mixon, and MI 3* Quintin Patilla). It should thus come as no surprise that CA LB Josh Tatum has dropped us. Those inclined to declare Ezeh a wasted scholarship would do well to review the Iowa game tape and look at David Harris and John Thompson.
The recruiting board is very out of date at this point, as I've gotten pulled away on things that are actually happening. I'll try to get things in order in the near future, if not by next week than definitely during the bye.
On the basketball front, MI C Tom Herzog has committed to Michigan State. Michigan's currently trying to catch up on a bunch of second-tier posts but at the moment it seems that the most likely outcome of this year's recruiting class is K'len Morris, DeShawn Sims, and a bunch of empty air occupying three scholarships.