"He makes it really easy on you as a coach because he has tremendous football instincts," Michigan tight ends coach Jay Harbaugh said. "Things come really naturally to him. He doesn't have to see things too many times. He has a good sense for how things should look and feel, and he's a tough, physical guy."
To be eligible for the award, a student-athlete must be in his final year of eligibility, hold at least a 3.2 grade-point average and "have outstanding football ability as a first team player or significant contributor and have demonstrated strong leadership and citizenship."
"That was one of those plays that was real contact courage," Harbaugh said of Chesson’s block. "He just went and made a real, hearty block. I was happy to see that. Darboh is doing the same thing, and Ways is doing the same thing at a higher level than most receivers you’re ever going to find."
"The Wildcats' endzone might as well be the moon; sure it is possible to go there, and it's been done in the past, but opposing teams are wondering if they have the manpower and the short-sleeved white button-down shirts to engineer a way there and how are they going to convince the government to give them the resources to try in this economy."
Trapped in enemy territory, their far smaller band weakened by attrition and fearing the superior recruitment of the unchallengeable and suppressive French, the English cower in fear and mull surrender, but for those bowered by their once mocked, portly, stalwart and heroic monarch. Cloaked as a commoner he walks amongst his men.
NARRATOR: With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty; that every wretch, pining and pale before, beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks; A largess universal, like the sun, His liberal eye doth give to every one, Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all. Behold, as may unworthiness define, A little touch of Harry in the night.
And so our scene must to the battle fly; Where- O for pity!- we shall much disgrace, with four or five most vile and ragged foils, right ill-dispos'd in brawl ridiculous, the name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see, Minding true things by what their mock'ries be.
Enter the KING.
(Hover over the links to see which diary is which)
What's he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin; If we are mark'd to die, we are enough to do our country loss; and if to live, the fewer men recruited, the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour as one man more methinks would share from me.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd, and rouse him at the name of football season come again. He that shall live this day, and see old age, will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, and say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.' Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, and say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, but he'll remember, with advantages, what feats he did that day. Then shall our names, familiar in his mouth as household words: Brady the King, Shoelace and Omameh, Kovacs and Campbell, Demens and Floyd, Barnum and Schofield and Roundtree, Lewan and Toussaint, Hopkins and Gallon and Mealer, Roh, and Black, and Washington and Morgan, Gordon and Countess and Hagerup and Gibbons and Moore, be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red!
This story shall the good man teach his son; and Opening Weekend shall ne'er go by, from this day to the ending of the world, but we in it shall be remembered--
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile. This day shall gentle his condition, and gentlemen in England now-a-bed shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day!
(Take the jump, or close the wall up with our English dead)
Best of the Board
GOOD GOD LET'S GET THIS WHOLE THING GIF'ED, STAT!
It's still the same chord progression and melody that Billy Beane's 11-year-old (i.e. Lenka) came up with in Moneyball. But like every hit tunes since 1980, [Pre-Gaming with…] Pat Stansik upgraded to smash hit by complementing pedestrian songwriting with a killer music video, featuring cameos by Zack Novak, Lloyd Brady, Facepalm Guy, and MGo's own Ace Anbender. Since we can't pos-bang anymore, let this video be the first official recipient (as well as the genesis) of an Ace-Pat-Plussing:
It's okay, you can stare at that for a few minutes. There's another gif from this video for when you want to express a more negative sentiment. If you really like the gifs (pronounced hard-G or hairy-nerd-computer engineer-bloggers will yell at you), here's one for every major conference team (how much longer 'till we don't have to mention this doesn't include the Big East? Oh well, a little bit longer).
Genesis of conversation is look at the fine abs on Campbell and Ash. In the opposite corner we have Brandon Graham, Will Johnson, and Terrible Taylor. And wolves. This will end well of course.
LET THERE BE LIGHT!
Raoul snuck into Crisler (…'s photobook on the women's basketball Facebook page) and posted some of the pics from the renovation. For those who remember this once dark corridor well…wow.
THE MOST ANNOYING SPORTS FAN IN THE WORLD
I think we should all just agree that Spartan fans are on top (they would happily concur) and like the OP focus on some things our own fans do that disappoint us. If this is a competition, then I'll start with by best friend's freshman year roommate, who is literally such a douchebag somebody is now getting $4.5 million for having to put up with him (We're still waiting for our checks). Also anyone who uses the term "Walverines," and the guy who thinks MGoBlog is another The Wolverine and just wants to talk recruiting, as if, like, there weren't 120 football players on the roster RIGHT NOW who are playing FOOTBALL in less than 24 hours!
No matter where; of comfort no man speak:
Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let's choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath
Save our deposed bodies to the ground?