I had this dream last night. I was watching Michigan play Ohio State on Saturday. It was deathly cold. Threet was starting. I was watching the game from on my old porch on East William in Ann Arbor. Yes that's weird. It's a frikkin dream, okay? On the first kickoff, some unheralded guy put a lick on OSU's returner that would make a Mack Truck jealous. It was on. Jamison came around the edge and forced Pryor to throw early, and this time Brown caught it. Herbstreit, doing analysis up in the booth, said Michigan wouldn't be here if they didn't have to be. Someone threw him out of the press box. Not the nice way. On a seemingly innocuous run, Moundros plowed into Laurinaitis. Replays couldn't show what happened -- too many guys in on the play. But when they finally got James up, there were stains on the seat of the silver pants. Ohio State's offense scored. A tight end came across and Pryor hit him for a big gain, and Wells did the rest from the 5 yard line. Michigan returned it to the 50. They started running it again. For 4 and a half minutes. Threet sneaked it in for the tie. This is a dream remember -- it flashes forward worse than those replays on the Big Ten Network. Michigan gets a gift -- for once the other team finally doesn't have safety help and 22 breaks for a long, perfectly executed TD. Now it's late in the game. Graham plows through the offensive line. He hits Pryor so hard the stadium is immediately silenced. Michigan is up 22-7 and time is ticking off the clock still, and there's Graham atop his prey, right in Pryor's facemask. The frozen world outside those facemasks does not exist. It's Graham looking right at Pryor. He spits on his face. He says You. Will. Never. Beat. Michigan. And he never does. That was my dream. The other dream I had last night my girlfriend made us convert to Orthodox Jews and I had to grow my sideburns out. But that wasn't nearly as interesting as the other dream.