a vitally important recap of all the dumb tweets sent during the Harbaugh coaching search
you thought John McCain had it bad
This season has been hard. Most reasonable people expected struggles. New system, few returning offensive starters--all the usual (and valid) reasons have been listed. I think, however, few expected it to be this bad. And even if you did, the despair of actually witnessing the end of so many streaks-bowls, winning seasons, MAC domination, etc. has been painful. So as you leave the stadium Saturday or disgustedly turn off your TV, try not to feel too sorry for yourself. You will be surrounded by your loved ones today. You will sleep in your own bed. You may be blue for the next few days, but your life will return to normal. But if you do find the malaise too much to bear, snap out of it. You have it easy. Think about Paul.
Paul Bunyan has been with us since Spartan Bob fell asleep at the clock. In fact, Ann Arbor is his home. He likes it here. Except for an occasional short stay in (shudder) East Lansing, he has a pretty good life. He likes political discourse. He enjoys trips to the museum. He's not comfortable ending his sentences with "Brah".
Imagine his first terrifying moments. "What? I have to leave? Go with who--them?" Remember the gut wrenching scene from Kramer vs. Kramer? At least that was the kid's mom. His little wooden fingernails could not claw hard enough. "Wait, I've got an axe!"--useless. I can see him staring helplessly like that little boy being driven away by pedophiles in Mystic River. Packed up and carted away by mouth breathing barbarians with lower SAT scores than his old illiterate buddy, Pecos Bill.
Think of the first night. Imagine The Shawshank Redemption except with more sodomy. The tribal tattoos. The acrid smell of burning couches. His self loathing over his wooden arousal at being stroked by skanky, beer swilling harlots who managed to cobble together enough sentences on their admission applications to avoid LCC. Would he ever be able to look at a beer commercial again without a flashback? "My God, is that a mullet? What IS a Brah? Are they going to watch 300 again?"
He tries to turn his thoughts elsewhere, but this only makes matters worse. He thinks of his old pal, Babe. But the blue ox is over at the vet school. From 9-5 she undergoes painful, Mengele-esque experiments in which the researchers search for answers already discovered at places like Iowa and Indiana decades ago. At night, she endures unspeakable violations by drunken Spartans who are too hideous to even coax an MSU coed into bed. Can an ox have a pretty mouth?
So quit feeling sorry for yourself. Paul and Babe have to endure this horror for a year. Support RR. Get behind the team. Muster the resolve of Mel Gibson in Ransom--"Give me back my Bunyan!" Next year we must bring him home and keep him here. I only hope he can forgive us.