"Though I received no official response to these sophisticated and elegant tweets to the Illini Athletic Department, I would like to think that Beckman spent the evening prank calling everyone in Illinois named George McLellan and then ordering an absurd amount of hats off an internet haberdashery to hoard in his home's hat annex."
"Tonight we were reminded that Michigan is five years further down the road. Which means we have a long road ahead. The State Farm Center renovations start in a few hours and will run for three years. Let’s hope that when they’re complete, we’re Michigan."
I left a fair amount of Brian's analysis out of this MPP because it didn't translate particularly well to video. If you haven't read Brian's original PP, go do it now. If you have, go do it again.
Setup: Michigan has it first-and-ten on their own 38 on their first drive of the game. They come out in a 'power' shotgun (a 12-gauge, if you will) with two backs and a TE, and will run an iso to the right utilizing combo blocks on the NT and a lead blocker (Hopkins).
Wha'hoppon: Schofield and Molk plant the NT like he's a burlap-wrapped sapling. Omameh and Huyge single-block their men halfway to the bench, Denard freezes the backside DE with his ever-present run threat, and Hopkins roars into the hole. He gets his helmet across the LB and blasts him out of the hole, collecting a safety who really sucks at geometry in the process. This turns out to be key to the play, since it both completely opens the hole and eliminates the man-advantage Minnesota had by walking an extra safety down into the box. Toussaint flies through the hole untouched until he gets well into the secondary, and breaks an ankle-tackle on his way to a 35-yard gain.
Yes, that's me, and thanks for the kind words. I'm parking_god (with or without underscore, depending on the allowable character set for userids) pretty much everywhere else on the net but here. And my full MGoName is 'Chris of Dangerous Logic,' which is of course truncated to the spy-action-man-esque thing you see to the left and which Mispogon has so much fun with every time he posts a summary of that week's Diaries.
Anyway. I've been called 'parking god' in one form or another since the Saturday before Christmas of 1987, when I was able to find a parking space at Twelve Oaks Mall about twenty feet from the door. It's funny what sticks with you.