Yesterday, during the craptastic Irish loss to Sparty, I decided to keep a “drunken diary,” tabulating my thoughts and reactions as the game went on. The first half is quite detailed, but, as anyone who has been in the grasps of a crippling all-day drinking binge knows, things get a little fuzzy with time. Javon Ringer running wild sticks out the most today, and here’s what transpired yesterday, as I sat there feeling like Coach did in this pic:
Here we go…..I just cracked a Ribbon, fully accepting defeat before kickoff. Although this may be unbecoming of an Irish fanatic, lack of alcohol in my system allows a certain level of realism. Wow. That opening “drive” really reinforced my negative attitude. Looks like we won’t be able to run (again), and Sam Young’s personal foul ensures an early 7-0 hole.
A gimpy Charlie waddles back and forth on the sidelines in warmup pants. Ladies and gentleman, it is time to sign the petition that he is, from now on, only allowed to wear said pants. They hide the FUPA well, I’m quite impressed.
3-0 Michigan State. The defense looks like they may be able to keep the Irish in this. I decide to take a shot of optimism, compliments of my hero, James Beam. “Will we pass in the 1st half?” is the question right now.
Javon Ringer just fumbled, this optimism shit may really work. I pour another one.
The Irish pass, only it is picked off. Time to go back to Ribbons and bitterness. According to some rinky dink sideline reporter with tits, the “big story” thus far is that the Michigan State sidelines are refusing to sit down. THEY ARE ALL STANDING!!! This may be a bigger story than Danny Bonaduce entering rehab.
Why is Armando Allen returning punts? Has Golden Tate not established himself yet as this team’s one and only playmaker? Allen fields the kick, and gets squashed underneath the giant green ass of a Spartan. Time for a shot.
During my shot, I get a tad off topic, and for some reason become embroiled in a conversation about that cool ass game for Nintendo’s Gameboy where you could ride a motorcycle in 360 degree loops. Somebody please let me know the name of it, I spent too much time trying to figure it out, and I refuse to look online. That’s accepting defeat.
Speaking of defeat, Notre Dame just fumbled, but it miraculously rolled out of bounds on the Spartan sideline untouched. Apparently these “standing” players are too busy engaging in flights of fancy to inform their teammates of the blunder. Big story my ass…..
Did we really just attempt a 51 yard field goal? Brandon Walker makes me nervous on extra points, and Uncle Charlie sends him out to boot a 50 plus yarder, guaranteeing great MSU field position. Whoopsie daisy, it’s shanked. If you’re going to roll the dice, have unprotected sex with a seedy hooker instead my friends.
ABC cuts to a breathtaking view of the TRIPLE decker Michigan Princess riverboat. It’s not even halftime, and we are hurting for airable material it seems. Can’t wait to see a cut-in to the lovely Michigan Shithole which is parked in a Detroit barge as we speak.
There’s a knock at the door. Michael, the neighborhood crackhead/batshit crazy lunatic proudly displays two pair of brand spanking new Dockers khakis, and asks if I can use them. Since I usually piss myself on Saturdays, I politely decline the offer and close the door, making sure to click the deadbolt before sitting back down. It makes me wonder for a second where the hell this certifiably insane kook gets this shit. I really wish this story wasn’t true……..
Back to the game. I sit down just in time to see an emotionally draining tribute to “Famous Crewcuts.” Ahhhhh Roger Maris, Johnny Unitas, Charlie Weis. One of these things is not like the other, and I’ll pour you a shot (on the house) if you can figure it out.
Damn. That was a nice stop on third down. The Irish defense actually stepped up, making a play, and forcing a punt. Time to pour myself a shot, on the house of course. Armando fair catch please…….Armando fair catch please…….Armando fair catch please.
ABC cuts to the crowd, where a group of pencil neck geeks unveil to the waiting world a sign reading: “Mess With Sparty? Not a Weis Move.” I’m guessing these enginerds forfeited their Friday night Dungeons & Dragons tournament to brainstorm clever, witty, sign slogans.
Clausen throws another pick. Here we go……. I’m starting to feel tipsy. Cut to the Michigan St. mascot tastelessly dressed as a Mexican senorita. No shame up in East Lansing I tell you, no shame.
A Marines commercial comes on. Steelhead + Alcohol + Marines commercial = bad ideas. I ponder a career change, since the plug always makes military service look utterly badass, and, right now, I am utterly badass (aka drunk). Beer muscles have sprouted from every part of my body. I want to go climb a mountain in a wife-beater and khakis now, just like the dude in the commercial. Dammit Michael, where are you when you are actually needed?
The Irish just made a very good goal-line stand, but Ringer punches it in on 4th down. I thought Barry Sanders plays for Oklahoma State. Am I hallucinating right now? Did someone slip me a “mickey?”
10-0 at half. For everything that’s happened, things could be worse. I need to fire up a few more shots, and be completely “Beamed out” by the second half kickoff.
SCENE DELETED (PUKE)
SCENE DELETED (COPS)
SCENE DELETED (PUKE)
SCENE DELETED (OBSCENITY LACED TIRADE INCOHERENT TO EVERYONE ELSE)
Now it is Sunday. From what I recollect, Ringer opened the throttle in the 2nd half, the Irish had some costly turnovers, and Brandon Walker is a horrible, horrible kicker. 23-7 final. Ringer entered Heisman conversations yesterday, due to the coverage of the game. Javon is the real deal, and I look forward to seeing him run all over the Wolverines this season.
Enough pleasantries, we expected to lose, but not all was a loss. Michael Floyd is becoming a reliable target, and Tate is still the man. We got Purdue at home this week, and solid Boiler running back Korey Sheets will again test the run defense.
NOTRE DAME 27 PURDUE 24
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