I see a bad moon arising
I see trouble on the way.
I see earthquakes and lightning
I see bad times today...
It was a film noir-type tale, involving a sultry Russian temptress spy, exotically (and topically) named Crimea River... think Angeline Jolie in her 'Mr. & Mrs. Smith Meets 'Lara Croft, Tomb Raider' period. Woof.
For some reason, I had the U.S. nuclear codes and she was going to get them out of me by any means possible. Well, suffice to say, she did so with impressive ease - it was awesome - but national security was of course compromised and we end up all living in high utility-low creature comfort gulags run by a Ukrainian sociopath named Yuri.
The End.
So that was bad. I proved to be a massive disappointment to the world. And I left the steamer feeling just awful about my poor judgment in succumbing to Comrade River's predatory feminine wiles.
But a few minutes later, Real Life intruded as I read the news of this year's now predictable-like-the-sun-rising ND 'Titanic Meets The Iceberg' calamity:
Six football players popped in one night - that has GOT to be a record - on a veritable cornucopia of charges: assault & battery of a police officer, resisting arrest, pot possession, unregistered (and apparently loaded!) gun possession. If reading the police record 'unbranded', one might think it was dateline: Tallahassee or Coral Gables, FL.
Reactions?
1. What were these boys doing, where they thought they needed a loaded gun? Hmmm, I can think of at least one scenario...
2. We may wish to begin tapping the brakes on looking down our noses at the criminal element at other schools. (I know, fat chance of that ever happening.)
3. Far more likely, you might want to re-look your 'ND win total' predictions one more time.
Word of The Week
Used in a sentence: After spending several hours involved in endless palavering over the ND Six, Young Terrence realized his wizened brother Kevin was correct, 12-0 was the team's manifest destiny.
Sylvia Plath
Writer, Poet & Buzz Kill
This probably has nothing to do with being a ND football fan.
Though being a South Bend or Fulton County cop is apparently no picnic either.
Though being a South Bend or Fulton County cop is apparently no picnic either.
All You Need To Know To Place Your Bet - Part II
Causes for Optimism
Which one of these lads is not like the others? At least not any more... |
- RB depth
- Left side of OL
- Nyles Morgan
- Daelin Hayes
- Better red zone offense
- Special teams
Concerns
- Stupid 18-20 yr. olds
- Speeding
- Weed
- Loaded Guns
- Girlfriends From Hell
II. The 2016 Schedule (Ignore at your own peril, trap games abound!)
September
3 @Texas Austin here we come...
10 Nevada
17 Michigan State Linipalooza VI!
26 Duke The (Corrigan) boys are back in town...
October
1 @Syracuse
8 @NC State
15 Stanford Alumni Hall reunion!
November
5 @Navy
12 Army
21 Va. Tech
28 @USC
Who doesn't love a brightly colored Infographic to cloud your judgment before laying your bet?
And a song for all you resilient 11 and 12 win optimists:
Wins
|
Which Nic Flick R U?
|
Why ND Relevant
|
Wager
|
12
|
Raising Arizona
|
Genius from start to finish. And be honest – you never thought it’d be as terrific as it ended up being.
| Joe S Kevin C Brian M Bryan G |
11
| Adaptation |
Über clever direction meets surprising performances even if one is a bit confused by the overall journey.
| Bob R Jay F Spit the Elder Tim S Graham C |
10
|
Leaving Las Vegas
|
By all objective measures a high quality performance. So why does one now feel so despondent?
|
Mike C
JP McG Matt L Ray V Jerry C Brian M Peter B Jim S Dave G Tom F Lini Spit the Younger |
9
|
At times both awful and awesome, but with enough enjoyable lines (and stuff getting blown up) to distract one from the disappointment of what could’ve been something really special.
| Tim C Kevin M Dennis R Terry Mike G Jerry W Jerry P | |
8
|
Nowhere near great. But one finds oneself looking back on it more fondly than is justified.
And if no one’s around... satisfying enough that one’ll watch it when it comes on late at night. | Al B Jim T Ryan C John L Randy R | |
7
| The Wicker Man |
You've seen this movie before. Literally. And you weren't that impressed the first time.
You're cognizant that you've entered The Disaster Zone - where career legacies are re-written. And never for the good.
| |
6
|
Ghost Rider
|
Oh dear Lord. You feel physically ill just watching this – and knowing it’s not an aberrant 'one off' performance.
| |
5
and under
|
|
We’ve fallen and we're not getting back up.
How incredibly sad.
What's on The History Channel? |
The answer is almost never.
But the Olympics are the gift that keeps on giving to virtually the very end.
Things you can't un-see for $200... |
So... I celebrate their angst more to bring light to this injustice - apparently those actually watching the match agreed with Team Mongolia - and to give my readership a new option on how they may more fully express their displeasure at the next game-changing bad call in an ND game.
Just make sure I'm nowhere near if you go this route.
Terry's Trolls
The Olympics raise everyone's game, it would seem. Even, or especially, the twits.
1. Ryan Lochte. Perhaps because your 'Saturday night in Rio' incident is proving to be not so exaggerated (just tell the truth next time, Boy Wonder) I thought you were perhaps literally the stupidest person in the world. Plant life is smarter than you. Our garden has tomatoes with greater capacity for critical thinking and common sense.
Then I came across...
2. Max Redfield. At least Lochte's won his medals, made his money. You've been given every chance in the world, multiple times over, and your response? Doubling down on 'stupid' and bringing down four other underclassmen with you. Two weeks before the start of your NFL-audition-season.
Shit. For. Brains. Enjoy playing for the Saskatchewan Rough Riders.
3. Todd Marinovich. "We found him hiding in a backyard. Someone else's backyard." Naked. With methamphetamine and weed. Todd, Todd, Todd. You can take the boy out of USC but you can't take... well, apparently you can't take him anywhere.
4. Harbaugh. In recruiting, it's "live by the sword, die by the sword." And Big Jim lost big this week, with two DL recruits defecting, one because his recruiting staff sent out a thank you note to the boy for attending a Michigan BBQ he never went to. Oops. And spelled his wrong twice in the process.
Nothing says "you're special" like a misspelled form letter,Tim Jim.
The Olympics raise everyone's game, it would seem. Even, or especially, the twits.
Then I came across...
2. Max Redfield. At least Lochte's won his medals, made his money. You've been given every chance in the world, multiple times over, and your response? Doubling down on 'stupid' and bringing down four other underclassmen with you. Two weeks before the start of your NFL-audition-season.
Shit. For. Brains. Enjoy playing for the Saskatchewan Rough Riders.
3. Todd Marinovich. "We found him hiding in a backyard. Someone else's backyard." Naked. With methamphetamine and weed. Todd, Todd, Todd. You can take the boy out of USC but you can't take... well, apparently you can't take him anywhere.
Do we have your transcripts? |
Nothing says "you're special" like a misspelled form letter,
Buddy's Buddy
It occurs to me that in the litany of wonderful Rio Olympic performances called out on last week's blog, there was one huge oversight - by perhaps the littlest Olympian of them all:
4'9" Gymnast Simone Biles. 4 gold medals:
* Vault
* Floor exercise
* Individual all-around
* Team all-around
And a bronze on the beam. (Slacker.)
If one didn't catch any of the routines she pulled off, google 'em. The mind reels wondering how the hell one even gets up the courage to attempt some of the stuff she did.
This song's for you, Simone:
Cocktail of The Month
"Match that innovation, Wharton!" |
Austin, Texas.
Put away those poncey hairdresser white liquors (okay, Tito's - you can stay, you're one of us) and serve us something dark and substantive.
Bourbon.
Bourbon Cowboy
Urban Cowboy (1980)
Directed By James Bridges
Picture Saturday Night Fever with mechanical bulls instead of disco balls, and you've got this oddball ode to working hard and drinking harder. A post-Grease (and still hot) John Travolta stars as Bud, a Texas country bumpkin who moves to Houston to make a little money - and a lot of trouble.
No, this is not a thinly disguised Rasmus biopic.
When Bud falls hard for honky tonk regular and certifiable spitfire Sissy (Debra Winger in a breakout performance) he ends up losing her over the sexist semantics of mechanical bull riding - which inspires Bud to ride the beast himself.
Okay, maybe loosely based on Bob.
Giddyup for our refined, big city twist on a down-South classic.
- 4 basil leaves, divided
- 2 dashes Angostura bitters
- 2 oz. bourbon
- 1 1/4 oz. iced tea, sweetened to taste
- 1/2 oz. lemon juice
Muddle 3 basil leaves and the bitters in a shaker. Add the remaining ingredients and ice, shaking well. Strain into a julep cup (or rocks glass), filled with freshly shaved ice and garnish with the final basil leaf. Don't drink and ride.
Final Thought - I
So the news this week wasn't great, if not utterly, depressingly predictable. But equally assured is that the football season always brings all most of the Class of '79'ers back to the area for a game or two. I heard the song below recently and can't help but think of my favorite (reformed?) Kansas City miscreant... himself no stranger to youthful post-midnight, poor decision making... with references to 'drinking like a pirate', waved fungo bats (who remembers the final senior year trek to The Torch?), visits to the county jail...
Hope he brings his Park City wing man this year.
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