further adventures in Jed York being unsuited for his position
Ohhh... ewww.... Bleacher Report...
But, pertinent information, and whatn't.
I remember disagreeing with the assertion that Touchdown Tom may want to coach after her retires. That thread floated around a while ago. So maybe this comes as a surprise to some, but it aligns quite nicely with my opinion on how he'd like to spend his retirement.
I've been sitting on this for awhile now, so I figure I'd post an equipment update since spring practice has started.
In 2015, Michigan will sport the new adidas CrazyQuick 5.0 cleats. One of the version they will wear are the Mantraflagfe cleats. They'll look something like this but will obviously have 6 words relevant to Michigan like "Victors, Valiant" on them and will be in Maize and Blue.
Mid-cut version for linemen
Here is what Miami's will look like. These were released when Miami announced that they were signing with adidas.
Other 2015 equipment updates
For 21 years, this car won about 80% of its races. Nobody in Michigan could beat it, and it stood toe to toe with the best car from the worst state ever. Never once did Bo cut corners or try to cheat. He took pride in running a fair race. Not even two heart attacks could keep Bo away from his car.
Alas, it was time for someone else to take the wheel. Bo had driven the car as hard and as long as he could. He would still come around the garage every now and again, but he was giving the car to his brother, Gary.
Gary drove the car for a few years. He made a couple tweaks here and there, but for the most part, kept the car original and in tip top shape. He even added a "Best in Show" Award at a national event in 1991. Sadly, Gary got busted for a DUI one night and was forced to reluctantly sign over the title to the car. Bo's other brother, Lloyd, was now the owner of the family's prized possession.
It took a few years for Lloyd to grasp all that went into owning a car with such a proud tradition, but he finally did. In 1997, he won 'em all. Every race the car entered, it took the checkered flag, including the big race in Pasadena. That race was a nailbiter, right to the very end. It looked like the other car, a Cougar, might pull off the upset but it slipped its wheels and never made it to the finish line. Victory was Lloyd's and the 1969 Camaro was THE best car in the country.
For another 10 years Lloyd took care of the car but couldn't quite capture its past glory. Blemishes started to appear on the body, under the hood, and in the interior. The engine missed a few times, a rust spot developed in the quarter panel, and there was a tear in the console. These were small issues, but ones that could turn into major concerns if not addressed immediately. Lloyd loved that car but he wanted to do other things. He had been around the car almost from the time it was bought new. He was ready to walk away and let someone else take over. There were no other brothers to pass the car on to, so Lloyd put it up for sale.
A few guys looked but there were no takers. Finally, a guy from West Virginia named Rich flew up to Ann Arbor, checked the car out, and bought it on sight. He never even took it for a test drive. This guy was used to driving tuner cars. He'd never had a muscle car before, and he was going to do something radical: take this American Classic, which had been so successful for so long, and turn it into a drift car. He replaced the Holley carbs with fuel injection. The chrome wheels with raised white letter Goodyears were replaced with aluminum alloys and low-profile Yokohamas. The cowl induction steel hood was exchanged for a carbon fiber version that was lighter. He stripped everything out of the car that was considered dead weight in exchange for parts that were made of new-age material that would help the car run faster. It was a difficult and expensive transformation. A lot of races were lost as Rich waited for new parts to arrive. Unfortunately, some parts weren't available and Rich's mechanics couldn't manufacture their own. Folks who had watched this car race for nearly 40 years were disgruntled and angry. They wrote articles in Muscle Car Magazine about the fall of the once proud Camaro. Rich started winning a few more races, but after 3 years, it wasn't enough and Rich was forced to sell.
The new buyer was a guy who grew up watching the Camaro run in Ohio. He was even part of the crew for a little while during its run in 97. He was a big fan of the original muscle car and was stunned to learn that he could buy it. He damn near walked from his house to buy it. His plan was to restore it to its original glory. He wanted everything back the way it was. Unfortunately, as much of a fan as he was, he really didn't have experience restoring cars. He could do the bolt-on stuff - change the wheels back, slap on the carbs, bolt on the old hood - but he wasn't a qualified technician, and neither were he mechanics. They had no experience with dynomometers and other computer technology that could help them fine tune the engine. They wrenched on it themselves, slapped back a couple beers in the garage, and waxed the hell of out the paint that was blistering underneath. The car had success early on, but over the next 3 years, it would lose more and more races. The once promising restoration project was now stalled and going no where.
There was one buyer that everyone hoped would step up to the plate. He was Bo's son, Jim. He'd been around cars his whole life and grew up handing his dad wrenches and washing the car as a kid. He learned how to drive and eventually sat behind the wheel for Bo, winning a lot of races. He got so good he went on to have a successful pro career. After he was done driving, he joined a couple crews around the country to learn all he could about power and speed and handling. He started with old beaters that barely ran and turned them into competitors. He moved up from street racing, to the local tracks, and all the way to the pro circuit. He quickly became the most sought after crew chief in all of racing. People back in Michigan wanted Jim to come home in the worst way possible, but word around the racing world was that he'd never leave the pros. He was married to a lady who wanted to stay out west, and other pro teams were willing to pay him more. His kids were native Californians. There was no way, they said.
As we know now, Jim DID want to own that car. It had been a dream of his since he was a little boy. He had worked his way up the circuit in hopes of one day purchasing the car his dad once proudly owned.
Jim knows this car like the back of his hand. He's hired mechanics he's worked with before and who have experience rebuilding muscle cars. This will be a frame-off restoration. Every last bolt, gasket, belt, and hose will be taken off and repaired or replaced. If they can't find a stock replacement, they'll fabricate one themselves. They have computers, gauges, and testing equipment to make sure every single part can eek out another mile per hour. They are aiming for the holy grail of muscle cars: 1000 horsepower. It's going to take a reinforced frame, beefier suspension, oversized cam, tungsten steel push rods, a huge blower to get more air into a brand new engine block machined from a solid piece of aluminum. It won't happen overnight. Some parts just won't hold up to the pressure. Some of them will crack along the way. They'll lose some races, but from every loss another answer will be revealed about how they can get just 1% better.
For those who are interested, There is an article written about the process that EA has in selecting player ratings. There is 1 person who does ALL of the ratings, known as the "Ratings Czar." It's a fun read, and it has sliders so you can see what some of your ratings would be in Madden.
This shit just drives me up the wall. I get that the NCAA's goal truly is to level the playing field and give everyone a good experience (while making an asston of money) but this is insane.
Not a bad read, even if Clark wasn't part of it.
“It could have all been avoided,” Clark went on, “if I’d said, ‘No, I don’t want to go to Sandusky. No, I don’t want to go the water park.’”
Eyebrows raised around the table. Deciding not to go to an Ohio water park may be sound thinking generally, but it’s not usually part of the avoiding-domestic-violence process.