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The Cubs have been confused since 1908.

Whoever is coming up with these designs must hate athletes and wishes to denigrate them by making them play wearing pajamas. At this rate, the sneaks will look like those bunny slippers Ralphie was forced to wear in "A Christmas Story."

Bop-era jazz (Bud Powell, Thelonious Monk) until my deadlines are met.

In the afternoon, I'll be in the mood for some old-fashioned Detroit high energy: MC5, Wayne Kramer, The Racketeers, Sonic's Rendezvous Band. Kick out the jams and let it snow.

Marcus Ray should have a five-minute conversation with the kid. That should take care of it. Now let's light up and just move along. 

The behavior of Titus Young Sr. imperils the future of Titus Young Jr. Those tender father-son teaching times will no doubt include such nuggets as "Don't be disrespected," "Learn how to handle your bidness" and other phrases intended to excuse sociopathy. A pox on him. Trade him to the Raiders.

. . .the sign going into the tunnel next season will now say "Play Like An Imaginary Girlfriend Today."

"I don't get what the big deal is about." -- George O'Leary

The question of whether this is the right move to "clean his image" is irrelevant to those of us who never bought into the image in the first place. Our ability to detect bullshit is what needs serious repair. You can't go wrong invoking The Principle of the Path, which says that direction, not intention, determines destination. "I'm a good guy because I fight cancer" is the exception; his deceptive behavior has been the rule.

Well, this adds an interesting angle to my observation last week that Lesticles is a cross between Bo and John L. Smith. Maybe Arky's AD said, "Hey, we want another guy who's stranger than nine kinds of hell, but this time we want one who wins."

As a Volunteer sympathizer, the only comfort in this comes from knowing that dirty dog Kiffin is in trouble himself at USC. He's the one that set this whole chain of affairs in motion. 

At 8-4. And in the expectation that we get Sparty this year.

Yes, you can make a case that part of this was a hangover from The Horror, but still, I can't remember a more thorough dismantling. I wonder if this was the game that made Lloyd decide to quit, even more than App State.

It's line play, especially when they have the ball. I can envision those big nasty fellas and Lacy putting the blade down until we prove we can stop them. 

Hall and Oates are okay, coach. Just remember the Rule of Groban and keep 'em away from the Football Bust. 

The best way to answer bad speech is with better speech. The best way to answer this t-shirt is with another one, an MGoShirt, that says "WORST STATE EVER."

I never drank the Lance kool-aid. He cheated on his wife, who deserved much better. He wasn't on the up-and-up with Sheryl Crow, either. Cheat on wife, cheat on girlfriend, cheat on bicycle races. He may be able to run for president someday with that report card, but he's never been a hero to me.

I don't mind the thread. It gives me something to think about politically other than the nitwittery of Todd Akin. 

The thread post made me think the subject was either Bo's "the team" speech or Kate Upton doing the "Cat Daddy."

. . .and put the Nittany Lion "cat" logo on the helmets. 

This is the best "Blockhams" yet, combining wisdom and humor in a winsome fashion. And oh man, that last panel. . .

Emmert said PSU was expected to establish the position of "chief compliance officer." That jumped out at me. You mean they didn't have one already? If true, that says plenty about the Penn State culture and makes me wonder what else is there that is unrelated to the Sandusky case.

. . .that Coach Perles couldn't provide some actual game analysis. Perhaps he was out of his comfort zone. 

May be time to repurpose that old Packer joke from the 80s:

Why did the state of Michigan build a new minimum security prison in Allen Park?

So the Lions could walk to work.

It's very hard for me to watch the Holyfield-Rahman fight, where Rahman developed a whupknot on his forehead the size of a grapefruit.. 

Random thoughts:

1. Quentin for Young is a wash, with Quentin only providing a slight uptick defensively due to his stronger arm. HIs other addition would be intangibles, but right now I'd tke a jagbag like Richie Allen (remember him?) if he can bring a big bat.

2. As a fan of both teams, I can't see the Cubs unloading Garza. Dempster is another story. Soriano to the Tigers doesn't work, either, because of his massive contract and his defensive liabilities. Where on earth would Detroit put another DH?

3. Raburn was called up to be showcased and moved for a song to clear a roster spot and accommodate an additional trade.

4. I like Jackson and Berry at the top of the order as a "daily double" of guys who can get on base. Move Boesch to fifth, especialliy now that he's hot. Then DY is a DH and too bad if he doesn't like it. 

I'd rather watch Serena.

, , ,from John Radcliff at Smoking Musket. His words of regreat are cautionary to anyone to those who criticize public figures on the record. He is now eating his harsh words about Stewart, and they don't taste good at all. 

Not sure turning pro and getting paid is the smartest thing for a young man who seems otherwise adrift. It might work if he stays in one place for long enough and has good people near him. And he must do the work, both on and off the field. Otherwise, the only thing left is arena ball. 

Sonny Bryan's. Brisket to die for.

I predict that, when all is said and done, Urban Meyer will be called "Tressel Without the Vest." All the pieces are in place for a repeat of scandal and shame because that school in Ohio still operates with a "win at any cost" mentality. And that will get you nailed every time. 

Zeke: Great player. After that, the only thing he has done well professionally is be a studio analyst. The rest has been abysmal. The only job I would give him with the Pistons would involve him wearing a name badge and a hairnet.

At this rate, the Lions should change their colors to green, yellow and black and play all their games in Jamaica. 

If Fairley didn't have a nickname before, he sure as hell has one now: "The Weedeater."

For all these galoots (and Sparty's Mr. Nix as well), we need a tangible dubious dope distinction award. I suggest a bronze spliff the size of a table leg. We can call it "The Baraka." 

Did we quit when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no! Have the Spirit of Blutarsky. Don't let the bastards grind you down. 

This is a good move. The Lions can't have too many running backs, considering how they get chewed up during the season. This is especially true due to their curious lack of attention to upgrading the o-line (cue in additional worries about Staafford getting killed).

As a writer, I have marveled at how the best boxing scribes can write with such eloquence about such a brutal sport. Bert Randolph Sugar was the best of the lot. He will receive many memorial 10-counts of the ring bell over the next few days at boxing cards and will deserve them all. 

Well then, let's turn him into D. B. Cooper and make him disappear.

I was working at a newspaper in Illinois during Michigan's championship season. Not only was I in the middle of Illini country, but the sports editor had Seton Hall in a citywide pool and was in line to win $1,600 bucks. The day after the game had the potential to be a wee bit tense. Early on, he walked up to me and said, "Let's get something straight. I don't hate you. BUT I HATE THAT GODDAM STATE YOU'RE FROM." Using all my theater training, I kept a poker face. But I laughed like hell all the way home. And I'm laughing now remembering his florid face. 

Q: So, coach Weber, what was your major accomplishment at Illinois?

A: Getting to the championship game with a team my predecessor recruited. 

Ehhhhhh. . . . not so good. 

That photo makes him look Martavious-sized. But he's actually listed at 6 even. 

Bill Walton: Coach, we won the national championship and I was the player of the year. So I am not going to cut my hair.

Coach Wooden: Bill, we've enjoyed having you here at UCLA and we wish you luck in your future endeavors.

Old school, yes. But it's how you keep your team. That, combined with loving your players as a good father would.

Something, perhaps off the court, has caused Howland to lose his way. To get it back, I suggest he take a copy of Coach Wooden's "Pyramid of Success" and let it soak into the marrow of his bones. Actually, that's a good thing for all of us to do.

Holy schnikes! I leave the board for two hours to do some work, come back and BAM!, we have another commit. I'm going to keep working until just before the basketball game and then check back in. At this rate, I expect to see commits from Isaac and Levenberry . . . at least. 

Indiana's Assembly Hall has this Soviet look about it, as if a Politburo of some kind should be meeting there. 

I suspect the high unfavorable rating for Illinois has much to do with exposure to FIPs. That's an unfortunate acronym for the entire state, considering that it only refers to people from Chicago and (especially) the burbs.

Originally, there were 30 Ohio football players signed up for criminology majors. 25 of them changed majors when they learned that this did not involve learning how to BE a criminal. 

Mr. Meyer is suffering from a bad case of quadrophenia.

Never heard this guy. A healthy majority of sports talkers I have heard are meatheads, so I ignore the genrre. You know you've got a bad sports talk show when a drunk caller actually elevates the conversation. 

Yesh should thank his lucky stars he never saw a game from the second mezzanine of old Chicago Stadium. He would have been treated to, among other delights, a drunken girl in a Blackhawks jersey screaming, "I fucked Eddie Olczyk." 

I hate it when the demons win. This is a reminder that ANY addiction is potentially fatal.

The bow tie has roared back at Bielema.

What we have now at Ohio is an artless college president, a clueless athletic director and a beady-eyed head coach who cloaks his willingness to win at all costs with a thin Christian veneer.

Sound familiar?

With these elements in place, I'm betting Ohio will be involved in something worse than Tatgate in three to five years. 

The MSU football team is doing its part as well. Dantonio is walking around campus interrupting everybody he sees. At some point at the game, Gholston will attempt to rip the head off Trey but fail because he can't find a face mask. This will cause the yowling white-shirted loons to throw toilet paper, used tampons, charred sofa cushions and other items onto the floor. 

Hoke has advanced one more step towards Bo-like (godlike) status. Soon he will transcend speech and summon his minions with a mere raising of the eyebrows. 

The laws of karma dictate that whoever said that about Hummel will have his own ACL torn while leaping from a burning couch. 

Hecklinski was right to let the thing alone.

As my dad often told me, "If somebody else really wants to act like an asshole, let him have the stage all to himself."

It's time to crank up the box for an ear-splitting rendition of "The Clampdown." The Clash will never sound better.

Deadly. 

Brilliant.

Bang on.

He was tough as nails, led by example and did what was necessary to win: Rob Lytle.

Whether you love or hate the Oregon helmets, it's all a matter of a pinion. 

Hoke likes to talk about what football sounds like. What will the Ohio sanctions sound like? I can hope for the sound of whupknots being raised and piteous moaning. I suspect it will be the sound of mild slapping on the wrists. 

"Carry on my Weighward Son." Pure genius. 

Carry on my weighward son,

There'll be beef when you are done.

Never lay your fork to rest.

Don't you fast no more.

Beat them like rented mules.

Beat them like red-haired stepchildren.

Beat them like dirty rugs and chalkboard erasers.

Beat them as fine as the dust of the earth.

Beat them like they owe us money.

Come to the woodshed, Lukie boy. It's whuppin' time.

After Saturday's display, the group of people who needs to be concerned the most is not Michigan's football team. It's Michigan State's hockey team.

As time goes by, the details of those last painful days will be edged out by better, happier memories. These are the ones that will have staying power.  

Last weekend, I was helping lead a men's retreat for our church. An unofficial part of that weekend was gathering around a TV and watching the second half of the Notre Dame game. It was special to say the least. 

The next morning at breakfast, the talk turned to great Michigan moments of the past. As one of the "older guys," I was asked where I was for the Wangler-to-Carter miracle. My dad and I were glued to the Bob Ufer broadcast coming from one of those big stereo console units. When the great play occurred me and my normally stoic father were jumping up and down in the living room shouting with joy. We knocked everything off the knickknack shelf. We thought Mom was going to kill us both. Murder did indeed cross her mind, but she saw how happy we were, quietly picked everything up on the floor, and left the room, shaking her head back and forth and grinning. 

So treasure every moment and trust that these are the things that will endure. 

My best moment was my first game, in 1976. I went with a friend, who had gone to many games before. We stopped at a nearby grocery store, where my buddy bought a six-pack of Stroh's. "What are we going to do with that?" I asked. "We're taking it into the game," he said. And we did, no questions asked. We had three fire-breweds apiece and watched Huckleby, Lytle and company dismantle Stanford 51-0. Ahhhh, memories. 

Is Hoke growing a goatee?

If so, is this another bright idea from the marketing department?

I love football, too. But there's a line between loving your team and being a mouth-breathing goober. I wonder if the dearly departed was sent to his reward wearing a necklace of buckeye nuts. 

One more clue that they should change their name to Fonzie U. They just can't admit they were w-w-w-w-w-wrong. And that is how FU operates in every way, shape and form. 

On ESPN, hosted by Jim Gray and called "The Derision."

1. The stories should say that Rosenhaus is Pryor's LATEST agent.

2. Tressel and LeBron: It's been a tough few days for blowhards from Ohio. 

RichRod riding to the rescue in Morgantown on a mule accompanied by a pack of baying coonhounds? I dunno. Seems as if that bridge has been nuked (from their end). I'll keep believing he ends up at Clemson.

Hoping for a future chapter called "Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out," which will depict an exodus of recruits and the forfeiture of victories and championships.

Was having lunch with friends in a deserted Ann Arbor restaurant yesterday and said of the OSU situation, "The fish are beginning to rot." But I didn't know it would happen this fast.

I would rather not gloat over the demise of an enemy. I'd rather reflect on what happens to a program, a university, a fan base that loses its balance and resorts to winning at all costs - and that equates college football with life itself. There is a direct link between photos of a Bucknuts fan father-and-son, both in buckeye nut necklaces, weeping piteously after an upset loss, to the kind of revelations that are only beginning to come out. 

Be satisfied that justice is apparently being done. But be vigilant not to lose our balance so that we don't fall as well. 

Brian, take it from someone who has been trying to write attention-getting journalism ledes for nearly 30 years: the first sentence of this post is world-class. I rank it as a simile with an old favorite from a fellow columnist from the 1980s, referring to someone with a glaring lack of social skills as "having all the savoir-faire of a young Clem Kadiddlehopper."

The righteous gray vest

Outwardly clean, inwardly foul

Bloody hypocrite

Was amused yesterday on the drive home at Bill Simonson conflating the names of two scummy coaches, and calling Tennessee's basketball coach "Bruce Tressel."

Buckeye Whitewash, one-gallon cans, on sale now at Menards! (Columbus area stores only.)

Cornflakes? Yes

Beyonce: Yes, yes, yes. 

The tone of Tate's words make me think he's wrestling with something far deeper than football or grades. Whatever that is, we can only hope he solves it and finds a peace that is far more important than athletic success. God speed and fair play to him. 

I have always seen Brian and this blog as serving the function of "loyal dissent," which is one of the highest values imaginable for a society, let alone a college football fanbase. I think Hoke has played all the cards right in his first days, but it still all comes down to winning often and honestly. I will reserve judgment on the new regime and keep returning here as a counterweight to invitations to drink the Kool-Aid.

I'm against any piped in music. But if this must be done, at least do not parrot the songs every other team plays, such as "Hells Bells" for the defense and "Sweet Caroline" in any form. Let's pick something unique. How about "Tough It Out" by Webb Wilder for a goal line stand? Or "Why Do I Keep $%#@ Up" by Neil Young for a bad call by the referees? Not really on the Neil, but I make my point.

If the key really is "know your audience," just let the band do its thing and muzzle the Muzak.

Of course, the best news from Sunday was the defeat of the Bucknuts.

The second best news is that Crisler was rowdy despite the broken sound system. This proves it really is possible for fans at a live sporting event to act like fans without the incessant and annoying Skinnerian electronic balderdash.

Any lawyers out there can answer me this: Since when is a six-monthsentence excessive for a misdemeanor? By its very nature, isn't the sentencing dividing line betwen misdemeanor and felony a one-year term? Which means six months is in the middle of the range of possibilities. If this is true, what does this say about the rest of Rosenberg's Sparty-coddling?

Coach John Wooden's definition of success comes to mind. Success is the feeling of satisfaction that comes from knowing you did your best. I think the team can have that consolation today. The deficiencies are obvious, and some of them can be solved with another year of experience and (most crucially) a very good recruiting year to increase the depth of overall talent.

So we're all right, Jack. It would be worse. We could be Notre Dame.

Why, that looks like a great example of. . . .of. . . . family values!

To quote Muhammad Ali, speaking through a broken jaw after the first Frazier fight: "Get the guns. We're going to set the traps."

Any new hire should get at least three years, saith the ghost of Bo, still fuming over Illinoi$' firing of Gary Moeller. But there has to be noticeable progress in each of those years. This year, there is noticeable progress at this stage of the game, although scant. And I smell a big surprise coming in two weeks, because these Buckeyes are ripe for the plucking.

As a seminary grad, "soul dong" isn't that far-fetched. There are references in the New Testament to a "circumcision of the heart." In this vein, a win over Purdue would be a very kind cut indeed. And thanks for a very clear-headed post.

I'm not calling for the heads of any coaches. But the facts are the facts. Repeat this sentence to yourself repeatedly and slowly: "Rich Rodriguez was outcoached . . . BY RON ZOOK." The decision not to take the points on 4th and 1 was positively Mornhinwegesque. RichRod was driven by testosterone, not intelligence. He was thinking with the wrong head. And the defense? I'll bet Scott Shafer had a beer and knowing chuckle when hearing about the game.

There comes a time in the life of coaching a tempestuous freshman when you have to put the bit back in his month. The timing of this often-necessary move is critical. You do it at the maximum possible teachable moment. When Tate ran into the game for the last drive and had to be yanked back to the sidelines, like a dog running to the end of a short leash, I thought the time for that teachable moment had arrived. He's a smart enough kid to understand that present adversity, if handled properly, breeds future success.

Weis has no reason to carp at the refereeing. Instead, he should look in the mirror -- a very very wide mirror -- and ponder his late-game clock management. He's Bob Davie on doughnuts.

Bliss, unspeakable bliss. Ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in space.

The Drew Tate comparisons shoot too low. How about Drew Brees? Hell, how about John Elway?

The key to the game is to not allow Hiller time to work his magic. I want to see a multitude of rushes, blitzes, stunts and all around accurate enfilade fire from GERG's boys.

30-22, Meeeechigan, and Denard breaks a long one for six.

The devourer of all flesh, Will Campbell, is third at nose tackle? Is this something to be expected or has he been underwhelming in practices so far?

1. I was going to attempt a song parody of "Dirty Laundry" to fit Rosenberg and Snyder. But the original holds up. I could only add the line, "Get that freshman over here, we need dirty laundry."

2. The two interviews I have heard where the reporters were interviewed by other mainstream media figures (the Channel 7 guy and Matt Shepard on the radio) are embarrassing examples of buttocks-slathering tripe. How can anyone take seriously an interview that begins with a blanket denial that the two reporters are "good guys and friends of the show" and people who could never, ever, or even ever, have any agenda?

Well then, talk about it with us. Write one of those "how we got the story" columns. Or better yet, the assignment editor will need to write "why we stepped in it but really didn't mean to" mea culpa colummns. Chait's New Republic piece is perfect. As an editor, I would switch reporters to different beats when they got too cozy or too poisonous. If they couldn't be impartial, complete and ACCURATE, they were off the beat. The Rosenberg piece was too sloppy by half. That's his fault, but most of all, it's his editor's fault.

Someone who is working in the Pittsburgh Pirates' front office must be moonlighting at IU, because both organizations keep making inexplicable decisions that kneecap their teams' chances to succeed.

So glad Robinson is not using the term "spinner." That doesn't exactly sound fearful. I don't think Tim Hiller and the Broncos just 15 miles down the road from me are quivering in their boots. Now, "deathbacker" may be another story. In a word association test, "spinner" elicits the response "rubberband man."