Yeah, it sure does hurt.

PUNT

By Heiko Yang

Well that sucked. Not sure what more I can say about last week other than I can’t believe my pessimistic prediction (ND 21, UM 16) wasn’t pessimistic enough. I actually thought at halftime that Michigan could shut out Notre Dame in the second half and score a couple touchdowns, but of course that didn’t happen because why would anyone make any halftime adjustments.

One of the nice things about not covering the team anymore is I can choose to stop thinking about Michigan football during the week. I don’t have to go to depressing press conferences and ask inconsequential questions about game plans and then have to listen to it all over again while transcribing. I don’t have to open the mgoblog app or Twitter to read about how crappy Michigan played against Notre Dame and why the season is over. None of this is in my face anymore like it has been the last three years.

Except I still spend my free time scrutinizing postgame pressers, looking for the game column Monday around noon, waiting patiently for the UFRs, and scanning Twitter daily for developments. No matter how disappointing the result, I’m finding it impossible to mentally or emotionally distance myself from Michigan football.

Win or lose, following Michigan football is important for my happiness. I don’t know why. It’s an obsession that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, and it’s a weird feeling I’ve been trying to figure out for more than a year now. It’s counterintuitive that I can feel better by thinking about the very thing that makes me feel miserable.

So far I’ve concluded that the underlying reason for all of this might be -- idunno, hope? Certainly not hope in the cure-for-cancer sense, but more like hope as a coping mechanism. I think most you get what I’m talking about. No matter how badly a game goes, there’s always a degree to which every fan will rationalize the results and pick out the tiny glimmers of hope indicating that things weren’t as bad as they seem and that there might be a better outcome next time.

As Michigan fans, we’re lucky to have this blog to do the rationalizing for us. The weekly UFR is the ultimate tool with which to say, “Yeah, we scored zero points, but because of X, Y, and Z, we may be more likely to score more than zero points in the future.” Even when Michigan is losing, like it was the entire second half of 2013, there are individual performances we can follow week to week in order to find tiny victories, like Frank Clark’s emergence and Devin Gardner’s heroic performances in spite of staggering adversity. It’s always a thrill when these tiny victories come together in unison to give you that one perfect game or that one badly needed victory over a rival. Last game, it was good to know that there was improvement by defensive front and offensive line. Even though getting blanked by an absconding rival always sucks, it’s nice to believe that the team is taking a step forward from last season’s ineptitude.

I don’t think this tendency will ever change, and I don’t want it to. Michigan might be mediocre for the next five seasons, but many of us will continue to watch because we will always have hope that things will be better next game.

It isn’t a bad addiction by any means. It’s a weekly exercise in optimism, and there’s nothing weird or maladaptive about a way of thinking that someday might actually help lead to a cure for cancer.

Michigan 52, Miami 10

COUNTERPUNT

By Nick RouMel

Welcome, Heiko, to Wolverines Anonymous. Have a cup of coffee and take a seat.

We too used to live and die on the outcome. A bad loss would ruin our day, if not our week. Look at my friend Jim over there, sitting in the folding chair, with a half eaten powdered sugar doughnut. In 1980, he was driving, listening to the Notre Dame game, when Harry Oliver’s 51 yard field goal barely cleared the crossbar to beat Michigan, just as the fierce crosswinds that had been blowing all afternoon miraculously stopped.

Jim stopped his car on Washtenaw Avenue, got out, banged on the hood for a few miserable moments, and then presumably drove straight to the nearest bar. He still hasn’t recovered.

Today, Heiko, we are on the road to recovery. It has been a long, arduous trip. But we are no longer emotionally beholden to the fate of the football team. We have stopped tailgating. We put our tickets on StubHub and hope they sell. We do crazy things on Saturday, like spend time with our families. Heiko, for the rest of us in this room, it’s over.

Oh, sure, we do our share of cyberstalking. We check the score, furtively. In meetings, we scan MGoBlog, and nod knowingly at the sage insights, while our co-workers think we’re agreeing with the boss. Our hearts still leap a little bit when we score a recruit, like Jabrill Peppers.

And when the opening drive is hitting on all cylinders, that familiar longing returns. We dare hope. But reality intrudes, rudely. Like when you’re in a hotel bar in Toronto, watching the game with your wife, and it turns ugly. And you don’t even realize your wallet was stolen while you were hammering down Rusty Nails and yelling at the screen. Thank you, Hilton security. But I digress.

It’s not, Heiko. It’s not important for your happiness. It’s not a five year bump in the road. It’s not what it once was. It’s a diversion. That’s why you’re here. Have a coffee and doughnut, and pull up a chair. We can help you.

Yes, my name is Counterpunt and I’m a cranky old S.O.B. I haven’t cared in …

Whoa, what’s this report on my IPhone? John Harbaugh is tired of the Ray Rice mess in Baltimore and might be enticed to Ann Arbor? That would be a great fit! It could bring us back to glory!

Enjoy your doughnut, Heiko. I’m going to the game.

MICHIGAN 27, MIAMI 19