So my Illini have marched on to to the NIT quarterfinals with a match-up against Dayton tonight to determine who will head to New York to play in the also-ran’s Final Four.
If my excitement doesn’t seem too palpable it’s because it’s largely non-existent. That’s what life “on the bubble” can do to a man.
When I think about what it’s like to be on the bubble, I can’t help but think about Austin Powers’ comment when Vanessa Kensington tells him that “always wanting to have fun” is Austin in a nutshell.
“Help! I'm in a nutshell! What kind of nut has such a big nutshell? How did I get into this bloody great big nutshell?”
Maybe that’s an even better representation of life on the edge of the NCAA Tournament. I guess it would kind of be the opposite effect, though. Cracking your nutshell would be good, whereas your bubble bursting is apparently bad. The confusion I have when it comes to the better-than-mediocre teams who are wondering whether they’ll get invites to the tourney, is if they’re actually sharing the same bubble. It’s known as “the” bubble, yet for some it bursts and others it doesn’t. I find that a little confounding. Maybe they should all get their own nutshells instead. If you’re in the tourney, you get cracked. If you’re not, you’re trapped in a bloody great big nutshell.
That’s where I am now.
It’s been ten days since the announcement of the NCAA Tournament brackets, the Illini have since won two games in the NIT, yet I obviously still haven’t finished the freefall from when my bubble was burst. (And I will refer to it as “my” bubble, because I’ve paid a lot of money and exerted an unquantifiable amount of energy to earn the right to align myself with the University of Illinois in such a manner.)
Yes, we got left out of the party this year, and I’m not likely to get over it any time soon. Watching us play in the NIT isn’t really helping, and it certainly doesn’t push me closer to acceptance by watching 65 other teams these past three days working toward college basketball’s ultimate goal.
It sucks.
Would it be better for me as a fan right now if I’d endured a 16-19 season as the Illini had in 2008, knowing that we weren’t a team that should have been playing in the Big Dance anyway? Probably, but that would have also meant that the last five months collectively would have been much more trying.
So maybe I should be a little happier with my 20-win team and a top seed in the NIT, especially since I know we’re losing just one of our top nine players after the season’s over, and a strong recruiting class is on its way to Champaign as well. The future is bright.
But guess what? The present day blows. I wasn’t sure whether I’d even honor my requested vacation days this past Thursday and Friday, which is pretty standard for me for the tourney’s opening round. I did it, drank a lot of beer and ate a lot of bad food in the process too. Figured I owed that to myself. Again, it doesn’t make it much better though.
Look, the Illini weren’t going to win the national title. I know this. I agree whole-heartedly with ESPN’s Jay Bilas, who said he thinks Illinois is the one school left out of the tournament who has the biggest gripe … but also acknowledged that hoops analysts could be better spending their time discussing the draws of the true championship contenders.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t left my middle finger loudly in the direction of those responsible for stealing bids from my Illini. To name a few …
New Mexico State – This one really hurt late last Saturday night, and it’s filled with irony too. For those unfamiliar with UI basketball history, it was from New Mexico State where Illinois plucked legendary coach Lou Henson, who went on to coach the Illini for a long and successful stint. But the Aggies’ win over Utah State made the WAC an unworthy two-bid league. Utah State was given a 12-seed as an at-large and was grossly overmatched in its first-round game against Texas A&M.
UTEP – The Miners were dominant in their first two conference tourney wins and looked like the superior team in the C-USA title game until the last few minutes. Then they flat-out fucking choked. They got a 12-seed in the Big Dance and promptly proved their unworthiness with a despicable second-half performance that quickly transformed a halftime lead into a blowout loss at the hands of Butler.
Wake Forest – I don’t care that the Deacons won in the opening round, they still shouldn’t have been there. Losers of five of their last six games and a blowout defeat in the opener of their conference tourney … how does that add up to a tournament resume? I’ll try not to be too harsh on them now, though, seeing as they did wipe out a Big 12 school on Thursday night.
Maryland – No, the Terps were not on the bubble. But Maryland, widely referred to as the NCAA Tournament’s strongest #4 seed, just needed to take care of business in their ACC Tourney opener against Georgia Tech to keep the Yellow Jackets out of the field of 65 (in my not-so-humble opinion). To Tech’s credit, they did make it to the ACC Finals, and I give them credit as well for knocking off a Big 12 school in the first round. But I’d have liked it if my boys had that chance themselves.
But I guess it’s not too different from the tournament most other years anyway. There’s just as much rooting against other teams as there is rooting for my own. After all, even when invited, my team can only play once each round. And there are always plenty of enemies to go around.
So I’ll take the NIT for what it is: It's not exciting for a BCS conference school that has a decent basketball history. It’s like a mediocre college football team being invited to a low-tier bowl game after a six- or seven-win season. It gives them a chance to get in more practice and maybe do something memorable in the process. For young kids, which is how I can now refer to 18- to 22-year-olds, getting to Madison Square Garden for the NIT’s final four is a nice prize. I just hope the Illini continue to take it seriously.
And, in the meantime, I can continue to send my unpleasant thoughts in the direction of those assholes who get to enjoy the true March Madness.
Showing posts with label illinois. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illinois. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Football Is Over. Isn't It Super?
It wasn’t long after the Super Bowl’s opening kickoff when my son Joey asked me why I have to watch football games “all day, everyday.” That’s clearly an exaggeration on his part, even on the one day when it’s possible to get completely consumed by coverage of a single game from the time you wake up. I’m not into that though. Not even three years ago when I woke up from a poor night’s sleep in anticipation of the Bears playing in Super Bowl XLI.
As freakish as I am about sports, I’m really not an all-day NFL fan. My habits are strictly dictated by my allegiances, so my fandom is entirely dependent on when the Bears play.
I rarely watch any of the weekly pre-game shows when there are 13 to 16 games to preview; my team is involved in exactly one of those each week. So if all teams/games are treated equally – which they aren’t – then over the course of a two-hour edition of NFL Countdown the Bears’ game would get an average of somewhere between five and seven minutes of coverage each week. (That’s assuming commercial interruptions account for 16 minutes per hour of programming.)
Why would I watch 80+ minutes of coverage devoted to other games with which I have no emotional involvement? Breaking fantasy football news? Like I couldn’t get that with a couple of simple clicks on my PC instead.
Which brings me back to Super Bowl Sunday. CBS had a four-hour pregame show, and that didn’t even include the “Kickoff Show” which was actually the last 30 minutes leading up to the kickoff. I understand that the NFL is believed to be the model professional sports league in our country right now (although you might need to stay closely tuned to ongoing labor negotiations for a reminder that the NFL is human), but not only are there no casual fans watching all that fluff, I have a lot of trouble believing there are many true die-hard football fans who stay glued to their TVs for hours leading up the opening kickoff.
There are only so many human interest stories that can truly be interesting. As humbling as it was to basically be a housewife at the time, concentrating most of my efforts early Sunday afternoon on laundry and cleaning duties, it was plenty more productive than sitting on my couch watching the many stories that stroked the egos of the Manning family and trumpeted the Saints as a shining light around which an entire damaged city could rally.
No thanks.
When gametime did finally arrive, I had the same lack of rooting interest as I did two Sundays ago when we all learned who’d be facing off for the Lombardi Trophy. At that point I was just happy that Brett Favre’s season – and hopefully his career – was over. I had a slight lean for the Colts, but it was less due to a liking for them and more to do with a bit of distaste for the Saints. Still, not enough of a difference to care too much.
As is often the case when I watch two teams about whom I don’t really care, I concern myself more with some of the individual players who are involved. And on Super Bowl Sunday my attention was mainly fixed on two former members of the Illinois Fighting Illini. If I can’t focus my energy on my alma mater, then what good am I?
So my primary concern was not necessarily who was the winning team, but my hope was that Pierre Thomas wouldn’t cough up the ball at a key moment and that Kelvin Hayden wouldn’t get burned deep by Drew Brees for a score. Neither of those things happened. In fact, Thomas made a very positive impact, accounting for about 100 total yards and a touchdown. Go Illini!
But now that the Super Bowl is over, we can move on from football. And for the first time, we don’t have to worry about the formality that is the Pro Bowl, the worst all-star game of all the professional sports.
The Pro Bowl being played the week before the Super Bowl is actually an absurd idea for many reasons, not the most trivial of which is that it obviously precludes the participation of any player from either conference champion. The good news about that, though, is that no one fucking cares. The Pro Bowl is a joke, and so it’s probably good to get it out of the way as soon as possible.
It should be noted, however, that the irrelevance of the game isn’t the fault of the league; it’s the nature of the sport. You can’t put these freakish athletes out on the gridiron together for an exhibition and for a moment think that it’s going to be entertaining theater. It’s just not possible. For a sport that’s built around hitting your opponents and avoiding being hit by them, you might as well just make your all-star game a skills competition. See which QB scores the highest in accuracy drills, see which kicker can drill one through the uprights from the farthest distance, and see which linebacker with a dangerous blend of speed and strength can literally knock the head off of a tackling dummy.
Let’s instead just make it a creative version of the draft combine and those lame College Football All-Star Challenges that are always on this time of year.
Actually, we probably shouldn’t do that either. Let’s just continue pretending the Pro Bowl doesn’t exist.
Back to the point, the football season is over. It’s time to think about where your team stands for the coming season and what can be done to address its weaknesses. The Bears’ 2009 season, for all intents and purposes, ended three months ago, so I’ve had plenty of time to ponder their future. Now I can do it without the distraction of other teams and their annoying success.
Fucking losers.
As freakish as I am about sports, I’m really not an all-day NFL fan. My habits are strictly dictated by my allegiances, so my fandom is entirely dependent on when the Bears play.
I rarely watch any of the weekly pre-game shows when there are 13 to 16 games to preview; my team is involved in exactly one of those each week. So if all teams/games are treated equally – which they aren’t – then over the course of a two-hour edition of NFL Countdown the Bears’ game would get an average of somewhere between five and seven minutes of coverage each week. (That’s assuming commercial interruptions account for 16 minutes per hour of programming.)
Why would I watch 80+ minutes of coverage devoted to other games with which I have no emotional involvement? Breaking fantasy football news? Like I couldn’t get that with a couple of simple clicks on my PC instead.
Which brings me back to Super Bowl Sunday. CBS had a four-hour pregame show, and that didn’t even include the “Kickoff Show” which was actually the last 30 minutes leading up to the kickoff. I understand that the NFL is believed to be the model professional sports league in our country right now (although you might need to stay closely tuned to ongoing labor negotiations for a reminder that the NFL is human), but not only are there no casual fans watching all that fluff, I have a lot of trouble believing there are many true die-hard football fans who stay glued to their TVs for hours leading up the opening kickoff.
There are only so many human interest stories that can truly be interesting. As humbling as it was to basically be a housewife at the time, concentrating most of my efforts early Sunday afternoon on laundry and cleaning duties, it was plenty more productive than sitting on my couch watching the many stories that stroked the egos of the Manning family and trumpeted the Saints as a shining light around which an entire damaged city could rally.
No thanks.
When gametime did finally arrive, I had the same lack of rooting interest as I did two Sundays ago when we all learned who’d be facing off for the Lombardi Trophy. At that point I was just happy that Brett Favre’s season – and hopefully his career – was over. I had a slight lean for the Colts, but it was less due to a liking for them and more to do with a bit of distaste for the Saints. Still, not enough of a difference to care too much.
As is often the case when I watch two teams about whom I don’t really care, I concern myself more with some of the individual players who are involved. And on Super Bowl Sunday my attention was mainly fixed on two former members of the Illinois Fighting Illini. If I can’t focus my energy on my alma mater, then what good am I?
So my primary concern was not necessarily who was the winning team, but my hope was that Pierre Thomas wouldn’t cough up the ball at a key moment and that Kelvin Hayden wouldn’t get burned deep by Drew Brees for a score. Neither of those things happened. In fact, Thomas made a very positive impact, accounting for about 100 total yards and a touchdown. Go Illini!
But now that the Super Bowl is over, we can move on from football. And for the first time, we don’t have to worry about the formality that is the Pro Bowl, the worst all-star game of all the professional sports.
The Pro Bowl being played the week before the Super Bowl is actually an absurd idea for many reasons, not the most trivial of which is that it obviously precludes the participation of any player from either conference champion. The good news about that, though, is that no one fucking cares. The Pro Bowl is a joke, and so it’s probably good to get it out of the way as soon as possible.
It should be noted, however, that the irrelevance of the game isn’t the fault of the league; it’s the nature of the sport. You can’t put these freakish athletes out on the gridiron together for an exhibition and for a moment think that it’s going to be entertaining theater. It’s just not possible. For a sport that’s built around hitting your opponents and avoiding being hit by them, you might as well just make your all-star game a skills competition. See which QB scores the highest in accuracy drills, see which kicker can drill one through the uprights from the farthest distance, and see which linebacker with a dangerous blend of speed and strength can literally knock the head off of a tackling dummy.
Let’s instead just make it a creative version of the draft combine and those lame College Football All-Star Challenges that are always on this time of year.
Actually, we probably shouldn’t do that either. Let’s just continue pretending the Pro Bowl doesn’t exist.
Back to the point, the football season is over. It’s time to think about where your team stands for the coming season and what can be done to address its weaknesses. The Bears’ 2009 season, for all intents and purposes, ended three months ago, so I’ve had plenty of time to ponder their future. Now I can do it without the distraction of other teams and their annoying success.
Fucking losers.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Everything Happens in Intervals of ... How Many?
As the holidays approached, I learned that my brother-in-law, his girlfriend and their dog would be staying at my house for more than half of the vacation time that I was taking from work. Doesn't sound like much of a vacation, does it?
But it didn't get any easier.
The week before Christmas, my stepson was diagnosed with Mononucleosis.
Over the holiday break, we hosted my mother-in-law for a visit that culminated in a shouting match between my wife and her mother.
Shortly after the holidays, my three-year-old contracted Croup, a respiratory virus that caused the swelling of his throat, which made it difficult for him to breathe and caused a terrible-sounding cough.
Joey recovered, but Lukas caught the same ailment before it had fully faded from his older brother. Great news for dad. Two kids with a pretty bad respiratory illness.
Anything else? Sure. Last Thursday night, while all of the kids ate dinner calmly in the kitchen, my wife ran to the garage to get her phone from her car, only to stumble off the garage stairs. The result: a broken ankle. The actual break is in the fibula, the outer leg bone just above the ankle joint. Regardless, not good news for a high-stress dad and husband. Fuck, my wife later told me that she thought when I'd run out to the garage after hearing her scream that I was going to hit her. Not quite the nurturing nature of a spouse that one might wish for.
So my wife continues to recover, now with her left foot in a hot pink hard cast. And as a daycare provider, this isn't a perfect scenario for her. It certainly doesn't bode well for her to have to hobble around while chasing eight or ten kids, not just our own. Things have been rough the last few days, to say the least.
But it doesn't just end there. I got a call from her Tuesday night around 6:00pm, letting me know that her car had suffered a flat tire on the way home from work; a not-so-subtle reminder that we needed to have the tires on our SUV replaced soon anyway. Hell, what's another few hundred dollars?
So what's next?
Tonight (or early this morning, rather) I received some news even worse than I could have expected. An old friend from college is no longer with us. Honestly, it had been a long time since I'd spoken with him, but that doesn't really lessen the impact.
At the mere age of 33, which I'll reach next week, my friend Adam has passed.
Adam was a good egg. He was one of those guys who was smarter than most of us ever could wish to be, a scholarship student to one of the best public universities in the country. But he didn't necessarily know his place. What he did know, however, was how he wanted to be perceived by his friends. A junior college transfer student, Adam was glad to be the designated alcohol buyer for our group, knowing that was a role he could successfully fill. The year that most of us, as freshman, turned 19, Adam turned 21. He was simply glad to be part of our fraternity (not a fraternity in the gay college Greek sense), and we enjoyed each other's company.
But it wasn't just for that reason that we respected him as a friend. Adam was probably about 5'11" and maybe 140 pounds, but that guy would have taken on a University of Illinois lineman to stick up for one of his friends. And it's for that reason we'd all look back now and know that we'd have done the same for him.
Midway through my sophomore year, Adam visited my roommate and myself to let us know he wasn't coming back to UI. His grades had suffered, probably due to apathy. He didn't feel challenged by life, so I think my roommate and I felt a little responsible for not giving him more of a reason to continue with his education.
But that may not have been what he wanted anyway. We knew that Adam wasn't your everyday kind of guy, and it probably wasn't just an education he was looking for in Champaign, Illinois.
So it's a little tough to swallow right now knowing that he's no longer around. His friendship is not forgotten.
But it didn't get any easier.
The week before Christmas, my stepson was diagnosed with Mononucleosis.
Over the holiday break, we hosted my mother-in-law for a visit that culminated in a shouting match between my wife and her mother.
Shortly after the holidays, my three-year-old contracted Croup, a respiratory virus that caused the swelling of his throat, which made it difficult for him to breathe and caused a terrible-sounding cough.
Joey recovered, but Lukas caught the same ailment before it had fully faded from his older brother. Great news for dad. Two kids with a pretty bad respiratory illness.
Anything else? Sure. Last Thursday night, while all of the kids ate dinner calmly in the kitchen, my wife ran to the garage to get her phone from her car, only to stumble off the garage stairs. The result: a broken ankle. The actual break is in the fibula, the outer leg bone just above the ankle joint. Regardless, not good news for a high-stress dad and husband. Fuck, my wife later told me that she thought when I'd run out to the garage after hearing her scream that I was going to hit her. Not quite the nurturing nature of a spouse that one might wish for.
So my wife continues to recover, now with her left foot in a hot pink hard cast. And as a daycare provider, this isn't a perfect scenario for her. It certainly doesn't bode well for her to have to hobble around while chasing eight or ten kids, not just our own. Things have been rough the last few days, to say the least.
But it doesn't just end there. I got a call from her Tuesday night around 6:00pm, letting me know that her car had suffered a flat tire on the way home from work; a not-so-subtle reminder that we needed to have the tires on our SUV replaced soon anyway. Hell, what's another few hundred dollars?
So what's next?
Tonight (or early this morning, rather) I received some news even worse than I could have expected. An old friend from college is no longer with us. Honestly, it had been a long time since I'd spoken with him, but that doesn't really lessen the impact.
At the mere age of 33, which I'll reach next week, my friend Adam has passed.
Adam was a good egg. He was one of those guys who was smarter than most of us ever could wish to be, a scholarship student to one of the best public universities in the country. But he didn't necessarily know his place. What he did know, however, was how he wanted to be perceived by his friends. A junior college transfer student, Adam was glad to be the designated alcohol buyer for our group, knowing that was a role he could successfully fill. The year that most of us, as freshman, turned 19, Adam turned 21. He was simply glad to be part of our fraternity (not a fraternity in the gay college Greek sense), and we enjoyed each other's company.
But it wasn't just for that reason that we respected him as a friend. Adam was probably about 5'11" and maybe 140 pounds, but that guy would have taken on a University of Illinois lineman to stick up for one of his friends. And it's for that reason we'd all look back now and know that we'd have done the same for him.
Midway through my sophomore year, Adam visited my roommate and myself to let us know he wasn't coming back to UI. His grades had suffered, probably due to apathy. He didn't feel challenged by life, so I think my roommate and I felt a little responsible for not giving him more of a reason to continue with his education.
But that may not have been what he wanted anyway. We knew that Adam wasn't your everyday kind of guy, and it probably wasn't just an education he was looking for in Champaign, Illinois.
So it's a little tough to swallow right now knowing that he's no longer around. His friendship is not forgotten.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Let Me Tell You a Little Something About Spirit
Today is College Spirit Day at my stepson's school. And while most of the little homos will likely be running around wearing Kansas, Kansas State or Missouri apparel, my almost-nine-year-old will be in his Juice Williams jersey.
Of course, we all know that this has nothing to do with the children; rather it's about the kids' parents and their college affiliations. It's kind of like the mock elections held at elementary schools across the country every four years as a U.S. Presidential election nears. "The kids choose Obama!" Like they've studied the fucking issues. It's much more of a measure of how their parents have rubbed off on them. Likewise, try asking Dominic what he thinks about Ron Zook coming back next year to lead to 2010 Illini. And does he think Jacob Charest should be the starting QB heading into next year? He's likely to respond to those questions with the same kind of reaction I get when trying to help explain his homework. Perhaps like all third-graders, he doesn't care what the right answers are, and he doesn't give a shit how we've gotten to them.
But I do have to wonder if there are any teachers at Horizon Elementary who spot that orange #7 jersey today and think, "Shit, that kid's dad is having a rough season." Surely I'm not the only person who thinks that way. I just can't believe how passive some people are about sports, especially with college affiliations. My father-in-law, for example, can't understand why I get so freaking pissed when he sends me texts after Iowa Hawkeyes victories, updating me on their record and including an obligatory "Go Hawks!" Luckily, I haven't had to see one of those gut-wrenching messages in a few weeks. For the same reason he sends those messages, he should easily understand why I fucking loathe receiving them: Because I don't want his god damn school to win!
That's what spirit is about, having your kids wear your school colors and looking at people who wear your enemy's colors and telling them to go fuck themselves (although it's usually unspoken). No smiles and wishes of good luck. I wish ill will upon my enemies.
And, by the way, Dominic had absolutely no say in what he wore to school today.
Of course, we all know that this has nothing to do with the children; rather it's about the kids' parents and their college affiliations. It's kind of like the mock elections held at elementary schools across the country every four years as a U.S. Presidential election nears. "The kids choose Obama!" Like they've studied the fucking issues. It's much more of a measure of how their parents have rubbed off on them. Likewise, try asking Dominic what he thinks about Ron Zook coming back next year to lead to 2010 Illini. And does he think Jacob Charest should be the starting QB heading into next year? He's likely to respond to those questions with the same kind of reaction I get when trying to help explain his homework. Perhaps like all third-graders, he doesn't care what the right answers are, and he doesn't give a shit how we've gotten to them.
But I do have to wonder if there are any teachers at Horizon Elementary who spot that orange #7 jersey today and think, "Shit, that kid's dad is having a rough season." Surely I'm not the only person who thinks that way. I just can't believe how passive some people are about sports, especially with college affiliations. My father-in-law, for example, can't understand why I get so freaking pissed when he sends me texts after Iowa Hawkeyes victories, updating me on their record and including an obligatory "Go Hawks!" Luckily, I haven't had to see one of those gut-wrenching messages in a few weeks. For the same reason he sends those messages, he should easily understand why I fucking loathe receiving them: Because I don't want his god damn school to win!
That's what spirit is about, having your kids wear your school colors and looking at people who wear your enemy's colors and telling them to go fuck themselves (although it's usually unspoken). No smiles and wishes of good luck. I wish ill will upon my enemies.
And, by the way, Dominic had absolutely no say in what he wore to school today.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Illinois Football May Really Suck Right Now, But It's Not Really Gay
ABC's new Wednesday night comedy lineup must be doing pretty well, because it wasn't more than a few hours into the following day that I'd had three friends ask me if I happen to watch the show "Modern Family." And I don't have very many friends either.
The reason they asked is because it was revealed this week that one of the main characters on "Modern Family" is a former University of Illinois football player. He also happens to be gay. Perhaps timely considering how queer the 2009 UI football season has been.
Consider this: On the road at Purdue tomorrow (a game that was surely circled as a W on the schedule before the season began) it's very possible we'll see redshirt freshman quarterback Jacob Charest take the field at some point. He's never taken a college snap before, and why would he? He came into the season as the #3 quarterback behind a three-plus year starter and a relatively experienced junior who's the #2. Must be bad luck with injuries, right? Nope, both of Charest's elders on the depth chart are completely healthy; for whatever reason, though, they just happen to be highly ineffective this year.
During the Illini's 2007 Rose Bowl season, they set a school record for total offense. Last year, despite finishing just 5-7, they came within a hundred yards of breaking that record again. This year, with a majority of their key skill-position players back, they're averaging just over 14 points per game. Can it simply be blamed on the departure of offensive coordinator Mike Locksley, who left to take the New Mexico head coaching job where he could safely go punch assistant coaches and discriminate against older women (allegedly)? Can all the blame go to an unexpectedly porous offensive line? There's no right answer, only wrong results.
So I don't know what the hell goes on in "Modern Family" but my family has to leave the house when I watch these Illini play. And it does no good to know that popular culture is throwing the UI a bone ... no gay pun intended.
The reason they asked is because it was revealed this week that one of the main characters on "Modern Family" is a former University of Illinois football player. He also happens to be gay. Perhaps timely considering how queer the 2009 UI football season has been.
Consider this: On the road at Purdue tomorrow (a game that was surely circled as a W on the schedule before the season began) it's very possible we'll see redshirt freshman quarterback Jacob Charest take the field at some point. He's never taken a college snap before, and why would he? He came into the season as the #3 quarterback behind a three-plus year starter and a relatively experienced junior who's the #2. Must be bad luck with injuries, right? Nope, both of Charest's elders on the depth chart are completely healthy; for whatever reason, though, they just happen to be highly ineffective this year.
During the Illini's 2007 Rose Bowl season, they set a school record for total offense. Last year, despite finishing just 5-7, they came within a hundred yards of breaking that record again. This year, with a majority of their key skill-position players back, they're averaging just over 14 points per game. Can it simply be blamed on the departure of offensive coordinator Mike Locksley, who left to take the New Mexico head coaching job where he could safely go punch assistant coaches and discriminate against older women (allegedly)? Can all the blame go to an unexpectedly porous offensive line? There's no right answer, only wrong results.
So I don't know what the hell goes on in "Modern Family" but my family has to leave the house when I watch these Illini play. And it does no good to know that popular culture is throwing the UI a bone ... no gay pun intended.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Should I Shave Today If the Illini Win?
In Bruce Weber's first year as head coach at Illinois, the team somewhat struggled through the difficult portion of their non-conference schedule and the start of the Big Ten slate. Those struggles hit their peak the day before my 27th birthday, January 24, 2004. Hungover, I watched the TV from my bed as the Illini absorbed a sobering 20-point loss to Wisconsin, which completed their drop from preseason #12 out of the the Top 25.
Two days later, I began a week's long vacation in Chicago, during which I didn't shave, returning home with essentially a full-grown beard. I decided to stick with the facial hair for a couple of weeks, and a great thing happened at the same time: The Illini clicked. Coach Weber's motion offense began to hit on all cylinders, led by future NBA draftees Deron Williams, Dee Brown and Luther Head.
As a loyal fan, it would have been irresponsible for me to shave at that point, right? The beard remained for two full months as Illinois finished the regular season with ten straight wins, plus two more in the Big Ten tournament before ultimately falling in the conference finals. Despite that single loss, I didn't want to break any of the superstitious momentum heading into the '04 NCAA Tournament, for which the Illini earned a #4 seed. So, still bearded, I watched as the Orange & Blue played to their seed, winning two games to get to the Sweet 16 before falling to the region's top seed, Duke.
That effort was a far cry from the apparent state of Illinois basketball in late January before my facial hair mojo.
Fast forward to the current college football season. All signs point toward this year's Fighting Illini as a complete flop. In losing three of their first four, the Illini have been outscored 102-26 by its FBS opponents, with their lone win coming against FCS challenger Illinois State. Preseason Biletnikoff Award candidate Rejus Benn has just nine catches, Mackey Award nominee Michael Hoomanawanui has caught just six balls, and Unitas and O'Brien Award candidate Juice Williams - a three-year starter - has been benched.
Today's matchup with Michigan State clearly has to be a turning point. And I arrive at this crossroads as a bearded wonder for the first time in nearly six years.
Having taken a few days off of work to move into my new house, I let the facial hair go this week, mainly because I was lazy. So it's merely coincidence that this happens as the Illinois football program appears stuck in the mud ... or is it coincidence?
Just like Weber's early struggles to get his first Illini squad fully in tune with his motion, the 2009 Illini gridders have gotten no traction with new offensive coordinator Mike Schultz. Now has to be the time.
So I'll watch today with all the usual passion and an unusually itchy chin and face. And I'll hope that I'm left with a decision after the game whether or not it would be appropriate for me to consider a full lather on my face for the first time in a week.
Go Illini!
Two days later, I began a week's long vacation in Chicago, during which I didn't shave, returning home with essentially a full-grown beard. I decided to stick with the facial hair for a couple of weeks, and a great thing happened at the same time: The Illini clicked. Coach Weber's motion offense began to hit on all cylinders, led by future NBA draftees Deron Williams, Dee Brown and Luther Head.
As a loyal fan, it would have been irresponsible for me to shave at that point, right? The beard remained for two full months as Illinois finished the regular season with ten straight wins, plus two more in the Big Ten tournament before ultimately falling in the conference finals. Despite that single loss, I didn't want to break any of the superstitious momentum heading into the '04 NCAA Tournament, for which the Illini earned a #4 seed. So, still bearded, I watched as the Orange & Blue played to their seed, winning two games to get to the Sweet 16 before falling to the region's top seed, Duke.
That effort was a far cry from the apparent state of Illinois basketball in late January before my facial hair mojo.
Fast forward to the current college football season. All signs point toward this year's Fighting Illini as a complete flop. In losing three of their first four, the Illini have been outscored 102-26 by its FBS opponents, with their lone win coming against FCS challenger Illinois State. Preseason Biletnikoff Award candidate Rejus Benn has just nine catches, Mackey Award nominee Michael Hoomanawanui has caught just six balls, and Unitas and O'Brien Award candidate Juice Williams - a three-year starter - has been benched.
Today's matchup with Michigan State clearly has to be a turning point. And I arrive at this crossroads as a bearded wonder for the first time in nearly six years.
Having taken a few days off of work to move into my new house, I let the facial hair go this week, mainly because I was lazy. So it's merely coincidence that this happens as the Illinois football program appears stuck in the mud ... or is it coincidence?
Just like Weber's early struggles to get his first Illini squad fully in tune with his motion, the 2009 Illini gridders have gotten no traction with new offensive coordinator Mike Schultz. Now has to be the time.
So I'll watch today with all the usual passion and an unusually itchy chin and face. And I'll hope that I'm left with a decision after the game whether or not it would be appropriate for me to consider a full lather on my face for the first time in a week.
Go Illini!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
The State of Illinois Football: Freaking Banged Up
In the NFL playoffs, a bye is a basically win. And while we all know that college football can’t be compared to the NFL, especially the playoff format, that’s how I’m trying to consider this weekend as a University of Illinois football fan. This mid-September bye week should be like a win.
The Illini's season-opening turd has already been somewhat documented. Coming in as a six-point favorite against a non-conference rival in a neutral site, the Orange & Blue went ahead and played entirely uninspired, losing by four touchdowns. Our best player, Arrelious Benn, named by some as the Big Ten's preseason Offensive Player of the Year, lasted less than a minute before being sidelined due to a sprained ankle. He didn't return. Not long after that, our starting running back also left for good with an ankle issue. And, oh by the way, Jason Ford was only the #1 running back that day because our incumbent starter didn't dress for the game due to his own ankle injury.
Christ, is this football or fucking log-rolling?
Now consider our second game, last Saturday versus Illinois State. On our first play from scrimmage, quarterback Juice Williams, a three-year starter, rumbled untouched down the left sideline on an option keeper. He’d have scored if he didn’t stumble on his own just as he crossed the five. Falling just short of the goal line, it was obvious he was at least somewhat injured. He stayed in the game to hand the ball off for a one-yard touchdown run on the next play, but that was his last play of the night.
The good news was that none of the aforementioned injuries were terribly serious. Although Benn’s absence clearly affected the overall offensive performance in the opener – I admit, probably not a 28-point difference – he and Ford were both back for the Illinois State game. Juice apparently wanted to come back in after his strained quad, but the coaching staff didn’t want to risk it. So all three will be 100% when the Illini visit Columbus, Ohio, one week from today.
But another very key player won’t be. Our lone returning starter at linebacker and arguably our best defensive player, junior Martez Wilson, is out for the year. With a herniated disk in his neck, Wilson was forced to undergo surgery this week. He didn’t play against Illinois State, but the staff was optimistic about his recovery. He even returned to practice earlier this week, albeit wearing a red jersey to alert the rest of the team that he was in there for non-contact purposes only. His appearance in those drills clearly provided a false sense of hope, as the bad news was delivered on Thursday.
So what does this mean for the state of Illinois football? I don’t know, but this might just be a fucking cursed season. Think about it: Best player goes down on the first series of the first game and doesn’t return. Second-best player goes down on our first offensive play of the second game and doesn’t return. Best defensive player is ruled out for the season during an early-season bye week. Fuck. I cringe thinking about what might have happened if we actually had an opponent on the schedule this weekend.
After a rather trying first few weeks of the season, the team must now gather itself to play against perennial Big Ten frontrunner Ohio State. Most people remember the Illini’s win in Columbus two years ago on their way to an unlikely Rose Bowl berth. But what most people don’t know is that Illinois has actually won seven of its last ten there. Ok, that clearly doesn’t mean a damn thing right now, especially for a team that has struggled to stop anyone for the last year and a half.
I don’t know what to expect, but after just a few weeks of the 2009 season, it seems unreasonable just to hope that the starting lineup can remain fully intact. And that's some bullshit.
The Illini's season-opening turd has already been somewhat documented. Coming in as a six-point favorite against a non-conference rival in a neutral site, the Orange & Blue went ahead and played entirely uninspired, losing by four touchdowns. Our best player, Arrelious Benn, named by some as the Big Ten's preseason Offensive Player of the Year, lasted less than a minute before being sidelined due to a sprained ankle. He didn't return. Not long after that, our starting running back also left for good with an ankle issue. And, oh by the way, Jason Ford was only the #1 running back that day because our incumbent starter didn't dress for the game due to his own ankle injury.
Christ, is this football or fucking log-rolling?
Now consider our second game, last Saturday versus Illinois State. On our first play from scrimmage, quarterback Juice Williams, a three-year starter, rumbled untouched down the left sideline on an option keeper. He’d have scored if he didn’t stumble on his own just as he crossed the five. Falling just short of the goal line, it was obvious he was at least somewhat injured. He stayed in the game to hand the ball off for a one-yard touchdown run on the next play, but that was his last play of the night.
The good news was that none of the aforementioned injuries were terribly serious. Although Benn’s absence clearly affected the overall offensive performance in the opener – I admit, probably not a 28-point difference – he and Ford were both back for the Illinois State game. Juice apparently wanted to come back in after his strained quad, but the coaching staff didn’t want to risk it. So all three will be 100% when the Illini visit Columbus, Ohio, one week from today.
But another very key player won’t be. Our lone returning starter at linebacker and arguably our best defensive player, junior Martez Wilson, is out for the year. With a herniated disk in his neck, Wilson was forced to undergo surgery this week. He didn’t play against Illinois State, but the staff was optimistic about his recovery. He even returned to practice earlier this week, albeit wearing a red jersey to alert the rest of the team that he was in there for non-contact purposes only. His appearance in those drills clearly provided a false sense of hope, as the bad news was delivered on Thursday.
So what does this mean for the state of Illinois football? I don’t know, but this might just be a fucking cursed season. Think about it: Best player goes down on the first series of the first game and doesn’t return. Second-best player goes down on our first offensive play of the second game and doesn’t return. Best defensive player is ruled out for the season during an early-season bye week. Fuck. I cringe thinking about what might have happened if we actually had an opponent on the schedule this weekend.
After a rather trying first few weeks of the season, the team must now gather itself to play against perennial Big Ten frontrunner Ohio State. Most people remember the Illini’s win in Columbus two years ago on their way to an unlikely Rose Bowl berth. But what most people don’t know is that Illinois has actually won seven of its last ten there. Ok, that clearly doesn’t mean a damn thing right now, especially for a team that has struggled to stop anyone for the last year and a half.
I don’t know what to expect, but after just a few weeks of the 2009 season, it seems unreasonable just to hope that the starting lineup can remain fully intact. And that's some bullshit.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Kicking Off with the Wrong Freaking Foot
At 11:00am on the first Saturday of the college football season, neither of the TVs in my house were tuned to the start of a game. DisneyXD's animated Spiderman series was on one, while the other was being used for playback of a Sesame Street sing-along DVD. In a perfect world, I might have been halfway between Kansas City and St. Louis, on my way to the Fighting Illini season opener. But this world is clearly far from perfect.
Although I didn't have a ticket, I'd entertained the idea of making the trip to St. Louis all the way up until Friday night. My wife even supported the plan. But when I had to head out of the house at 1:30am to purchase pain relievers for my littlest boy, I knew there was no way I'd be making my solo gameday roadtrip.
Most of the day instead centered around keeping our children happy and comfortable; by late morning it was clear that Joey wasn't 100% either. So the 2:40pm kickoff of the Illinois-Missouri game arrived not with me sitting in the Edward Jones Dome, not with me screaming at the television in anticipation of the start of the season, but with me sitting relatively reserved (at least on the outside) with a somewhat-ill child by my side, while my miserably-ill child was with his mother at our doctor's urgent care office. Not at all what I had in mind for gameday.
By the time Lukas returned home with a diagnosis of two ear infections and mouth ulcers consistent with the 'Hand, Foot and Mouth' disease virus, the Illini were already in a 10-0 hole and my blood pressure likely would have blown the cuff off of my arm. Things clearly didn't get much better as I watched every snap of a game that I now feel comfortable saying was the most disappointing football performance I've seen in recent memory. And I watched it primarily in a silent living room.
I'm usually the person who has a comment for every play, the annoyingly educated fan who call outs individual players away from the ball during the action. It doesn't matter if I'm alone or with a group of people or in public. So imagine the trouble I had trying to watch this game in silence, watching my beloved alma mater appear ill-prepared from the start, lose its best player to injury on the opening series and make the same mistakes as last year's disappointing 5-7 team.
You wanna know how it feels? When someone who usually bursts with emotion is forced to keep it bottled up inside? Physically ill, that's how it feels. My head throbbed, and I felt like I was going vomit.
I didn't watch another snap of football the rest of the day, and I don't look forward to watching any in the near future.
The weekend began with so much promise. The forecast of nice weather, the kickoff of college football with the Illini as a six-point favorite and, of course, knowing there's an extra day off before heading back to work. But it quickly crashed and burned. The late night/early morning trip to the pharmacy -- which was actually two stops instead of one since Walgreens didn't have what I needed -- is the only time I've been out of the house since Friday evening. Now here I sit, monitoring sick children, doing laundry and dreaming of a better outcome.
What could be next? Cleaning the fucking garage? Maybe the basement? At this rate I shouldn't be surprised if I'm called into work on a federal holiday.
Although I didn't have a ticket, I'd entertained the idea of making the trip to St. Louis all the way up until Friday night. My wife even supported the plan. But when I had to head out of the house at 1:30am to purchase pain relievers for my littlest boy, I knew there was no way I'd be making my solo gameday roadtrip.
Most of the day instead centered around keeping our children happy and comfortable; by late morning it was clear that Joey wasn't 100% either. So the 2:40pm kickoff of the Illinois-Missouri game arrived not with me sitting in the Edward Jones Dome, not with me screaming at the television in anticipation of the start of the season, but with me sitting relatively reserved (at least on the outside) with a somewhat-ill child by my side, while my miserably-ill child was with his mother at our doctor's urgent care office. Not at all what I had in mind for gameday.
By the time Lukas returned home with a diagnosis of two ear infections and mouth ulcers consistent with the 'Hand, Foot and Mouth' disease virus, the Illini were already in a 10-0 hole and my blood pressure likely would have blown the cuff off of my arm. Things clearly didn't get much better as I watched every snap of a game that I now feel comfortable saying was the most disappointing football performance I've seen in recent memory. And I watched it primarily in a silent living room.
I'm usually the person who has a comment for every play, the annoyingly educated fan who call outs individual players away from the ball during the action. It doesn't matter if I'm alone or with a group of people or in public. So imagine the trouble I had trying to watch this game in silence, watching my beloved alma mater appear ill-prepared from the start, lose its best player to injury on the opening series and make the same mistakes as last year's disappointing 5-7 team.
You wanna know how it feels? When someone who usually bursts with emotion is forced to keep it bottled up inside? Physically ill, that's how it feels. My head throbbed, and I felt like I was going vomit.
I didn't watch another snap of football the rest of the day, and I don't look forward to watching any in the near future.
The weekend began with so much promise. The forecast of nice weather, the kickoff of college football with the Illini as a six-point favorite and, of course, knowing there's an extra day off before heading back to work. But it quickly crashed and burned. The late night/early morning trip to the pharmacy -- which was actually two stops instead of one since Walgreens didn't have what I needed -- is the only time I've been out of the house since Friday evening. Now here I sit, monitoring sick children, doing laundry and dreaming of a better outcome.
What could be next? Cleaning the fucking garage? Maybe the basement? At this rate I shouldn't be surprised if I'm called into work on a federal holiday.
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