"Jim's a tough guy and you can see his personality is all over this football team," Fitzgerald said.
Weather looks fairly mild for Saturday at this point. (Ignore the "Snowy Weather Arrives" text... it's only an ad.)
For those of you who can't wait until September 3rd (like me and bassmaster) here's a little something for you:
Warning: filled with fat jokes about Hoke and comparisons to fat famous people (which are already beyond old hat and about half as funny as ones about Chuck Weis because Hoke is about half as fat as Chuck Weis). Besides that, just a good way to get your blood pumping for the end of November:
What I'm saying is, Brady Hoke is, from a cultural standpoint, the perfect guy to coach the Michigan Wolverines football team. He is a pompous toad who squats upon the lilypad of elitism. Everything he has said after opening that gaping maw he calls a mouth has infuriated me to the point of violence, and I am starting to believe that nothing short of Ann Arbor being terrorized by Woody Hayes' rotting corpse would get him to stop talking about how awesome Michigan football is. More than any Michigan coach I can remember, I want to see his jowls shake with shame and sadness after yet another loss to Ohio State. His very existence has made me into a worse person, more vengeful and petty than ever before.
Just heard on TV that Hagerup violated team rules and was left behind. Hello, Tate Forcier? Maybe we never punt, and never kick a field goal?
Twas the night before The Game, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.
The M flag was hung by the front door with care
With hopes that a victory soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
Dreaming visions of Denard and his dreads.
My wife in her pj’s and I in my M cap
Had just settled down for a November night nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the window to see what was the matter.
Did I have a sickness? Some sort of bad fever?
It looked just like Greg Robinson’s beaver!
Behind this rodent arose such a sight,
A winged helmeted vision in the night.
More rapid than eagles the players they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now Denard, now Daryl, now Junior and Vincent,
On Martin, on Roh, keep stunting and blitzin’,
On Kovacs, on Kenny, on Roundtree and Tate,
Tomorrow we knock off Ohio State!
The players charged right off with a shout,
And the beaver followed them to the south,
And I heard him exclaim, and I swear this is true,
“We’ll beat those Bucks. Let’s Go Blue!”
This all just happened.