Is it ever?
The Free Press as translated by Doc Sat:
Never an operation to pass up a free shot at its favorite target, the Detroit Free Press reports today that giving to the Michigan athletic department was up more than 22 percent in 2010-11 over the previous year — a boon the Freep attributes entirely to spikes in January and February, after alumni darling Brady Hoke was hired to replace the heathen Rich Rodriguez as head coach.
Michigan downplays the effect of Rodriguez's exit, pointing instead to its efforts to sell out the luxury suites in Michigan Stadium that went unsold in 2009-10. Yes, but why did they go unsold? A good journalistic victory lap waits not for semantics.
The home schedules of the last two years with the best three games bolded:
|UMass||Notre Dame (@ night)|
|Michigan State||San Diego State|
/wanking motion directed at Free Press
And while I'm derisively profaning the Detroit media, here's some new guy making quite a first impression:
Children, for the most part, don't understand tradition.
That's just one reason why the University of Michigan needs a mascot.
Kids need a tangible reason to begin a lifelong fandom, and a furry wolverine mascot can keep them from becoming Spartans fans against their family's wishes.
I went to the University of Minnesota during a four-year span that included just one bowl game — a loss in the hallowed Insight Bowl — and little success in men's basketball and men's hockey, the other two most popular sports on campus.
But all the preteens and toddlers kept coming to games with the hope that Goldy Gopher might greet them with a high-five or a hug.
Josh Katzenstein understands tradition. He went to games in the Metrodome. Therefore he thinks the greatest attraction of a football game is a guy in a costume.
Here's what happens to kids at Michigan:
He was about ten. He was wearing a number seven jersey and when he took his hat off for the national anthem his hair was staticky. Before the game he was hopping up in down in an attempt to burn off nervous energy, and when Michigan ran out to touch the banner his mind was blown. He exclaimed "this is so AWESOME" as only a ten-year-old boy can. The words forced themselves out in self defense—if they hadn't the pressure would have given him an aneurysm. I know what that excitement is like. I remember getting a Nintendo.
I can't imagine what his mind is like four fighter jets, three overtimes, 132 points, and one last-play win later. He's probably sitting at his desk right now, mouth slightly ajar and drooling, involuntarily twitching out the words "so" and "awesome" as the rest of the class learns to count to 15 in Spanish. Plans to put him on ritalin have been temporarily shelved. His father has been asked "what did you do to the boy?" …
After the game we're walking up the bleachers and the kid's right in front of us, trying to show his father his hand. His father seems to acknowledge the hand, but not enough for the kid's taste. "I'm never washing this hand again," he says. "Denard gave me a high five."
In conclusion, paragraphs can contain more than one sentence and newspapers are the leading consumer of sippy cups nationwide.