With apologies to Wolverine Liberation Army, who I think inspired this post...my take on the men's hoop squad's trip to U-W this weekend, from a historical perspective...
Ah, going to Madison. Many, many invasions have faltered in Madison. You march your troops in, replete with immense talent and high-tech weaponry, sure that these clueless clowns can't possibly stop you. You ignore the screaming rubes who shout vile things at you and your team - you're above them, you're gentlemen. The commanding officer appears at least mildly drunk, and seems to be in the process of getting much moreso. The other team's weapons are dull, and blunt, and look to be from about 1953 (or 1795 or 1932).
And then, suddenly, you notice that, well shucks, your column is somehow strung out for miles. The surface is muddy and slippery, and somehow funnels you into a place you don't want to be. The natives sharpen their knives, and scream more loudly for your blood. You can't bring your talent and power to bear, and your weaponry, so bright and shiny when you left home, doesn't work anymore. Those ridiculously old-fashioned weapons that the Madisonians have suddenly look pretty functional. That drunken general is up on his feet, shouting out orders and looking at you with a gleam in his eye. Your airpower is grounded due to the wind and the cold, and you can only curse and realize that now you know what many other beautiful teams of the past have realized - Madison's basketball court is a pit, a hell-hole, fit for no gentleman worthy of the name, and you have left yourself open to the trap.
Michigan will win. Iowa almost beat Wiscy at the Kohl Center.
903 wins most in college football