MyMamaTastesFunny
All-American
Late Wednesday, I stumbled into some tickets for the game, and drove down from Austin. The game was a lot of fun--my second watching Nebraska and my first chance to see Michigan live. Michigan was pretty impressive--their lines looked huge from my great seats, and they were very well coached. Their receivers were the most talented ones I've ever seen in person. Big, fast, very athletic. They are extremely dangerous in the open field. Breaston is a great talent, who could be an NFL standout. I’m curious why he hasn’t been more impressive throughout the season. With all of the talent, it makes you wonder why the team isn't better.
Some of the play-calling seemed odd, like repeatedly running an end-around that never got anywhere. The QB is pretty quick for a tall kid. Once he broke free, he picked up good yardage in the open field. His arm is strong, but the UM running back didn't do much--the little scooter bug from Nebraska looked quicker and played harder. Nebraska looked smaller, and slower, but they showed A LOT of heart, and their fans really kept them in the game when things were looking bad. The Michigan cheerleaders were pretty hot-looking from the 25th row, and I liked their routines. Also, it's hard not to be impressed with that fight song. The Alamodome is a small, intimate venue, and alcohol was extremely plentiful. It seemed half of the crowd was pretty crocked by halftime, and there were plenty of spirited, semi-coherent, but friendly debates. Every time I looked up, this blond sitting close to us was passing in front of me with her hands full of beers and margaritas. First, she was cheering for Michigan, but by the fourth quarter, she was trying to hug me whenever Nebraska scored. I tried to keep my distance, but her boyfriend didn't seem to mind; he was pretty plastered himself. I couldn't help but wonder how on earth they were going to get home. Nebraska fans lived up to their reputation as being good travelers. They outnumbered (and out-color-coordinated) the Michigan fans by about four to one, by my unscientific study. Nebraska won that game on heart--they were outmanned, but they didn't give up and their quarterback is one tough kid--he got his head taken off several times, and limped off the field, but kept coming back. Everyone criticizes the UM coach, but I thought he called a good game--he even called timeout and got a Nebraska TD called back! His team just got outplayed by a team that wanted it more.
By the time of THE play, the whole stadium was crocked, and the play seemed to fit in perfectly with the surreal atmosphere. Afterward, all the fans stumbled back to buses to drop them off at the Riverwalk for more revelry. I wouldn't be surprised if a few of them ended up in the San Antonio river. Listening to the postgame while heading back to Austin was like stepping back in time. A crackly AM broadcast perfectly accentuated our drive along small, dark country roads. It could have been 1955. With the possible exception of high school football, no other sport gives you moments of perfection like college football. Saturday afternoons in a stadium on campus can be perfection. Our drive back to Austin was one of those moments, and you have to be a college football fan to understand it.
I was happy for Nebraska. The game seemed to mean more to them.
Anyway, thought someone might find this interesting.
Some of the play-calling seemed odd, like repeatedly running an end-around that never got anywhere. The QB is pretty quick for a tall kid. Once he broke free, he picked up good yardage in the open field. His arm is strong, but the UM running back didn't do much--the little scooter bug from Nebraska looked quicker and played harder. Nebraska looked smaller, and slower, but they showed A LOT of heart, and their fans really kept them in the game when things were looking bad. The Michigan cheerleaders were pretty hot-looking from the 25th row, and I liked their routines. Also, it's hard not to be impressed with that fight song. The Alamodome is a small, intimate venue, and alcohol was extremely plentiful. It seemed half of the crowd was pretty crocked by halftime, and there were plenty of spirited, semi-coherent, but friendly debates. Every time I looked up, this blond sitting close to us was passing in front of me with her hands full of beers and margaritas. First, she was cheering for Michigan, but by the fourth quarter, she was trying to hug me whenever Nebraska scored. I tried to keep my distance, but her boyfriend didn't seem to mind; he was pretty plastered himself. I couldn't help but wonder how on earth they were going to get home. Nebraska fans lived up to their reputation as being good travelers. They outnumbered (and out-color-coordinated) the Michigan fans by about four to one, by my unscientific study. Nebraska won that game on heart--they were outmanned, but they didn't give up and their quarterback is one tough kid--he got his head taken off several times, and limped off the field, but kept coming back. Everyone criticizes the UM coach, but I thought he called a good game--he even called timeout and got a Nebraska TD called back! His team just got outplayed by a team that wanted it more.
By the time of THE play, the whole stadium was crocked, and the play seemed to fit in perfectly with the surreal atmosphere. Afterward, all the fans stumbled back to buses to drop them off at the Riverwalk for more revelry. I wouldn't be surprised if a few of them ended up in the San Antonio river. Listening to the postgame while heading back to Austin was like stepping back in time. A crackly AM broadcast perfectly accentuated our drive along small, dark country roads. It could have been 1955. With the possible exception of high school football, no other sport gives you moments of perfection like college football. Saturday afternoons in a stadium on campus can be perfection. Our drive back to Austin was one of those moments, and you have to be a college football fan to understand it.
I was happy for Nebraska. The game seemed to mean more to them.
Anyway, thought someone might find this interesting.
