Cornhuskers, Lend Me Your Ears

True story: years ago, my friends and I would sit around, get drunk, and look for things to pass the time. One of the games we came up with was a surprisingly fun memory game. Each of us grabbed a piece of paper and pen and agreed upon a category. Each category was to be simple and plentiful. For instance, NFL, NBA, or MLB teams, Simpsons characters, European countries, etc. The aim, with nothing but paper and pen, was to recall and write down as many of the category we could think of off the top of our heads. On the surface, this seems like an incredibly easy game. Let's say you consider yourself an NBA junkie and someone asks you, "Quick, can you write down the names of all 30 teams on a piece of paper?" You'd probably laugh and start scribbling away at the easy request. Except after 25 or 28 teams, you're going to get stuck for a minute or two. You'll hate yourself for it, but inevitably, when asked to recall a large number of items, even items you're very familiar with, you're bound to suffer a brain freeze and maybe not be able to recall one or two items all together.

The category I remember best was "The 50 States." With a category like this, the game becomes much more than a game. Your pride, education, and reputation are on the line. There are no excuses for a born and bred American to not be able to recall all 50 states. I began scribbling. I was somewhere in the 40s when I began to hit a wall. I couldn't remember anything. I calmed down and started to envision the US map in my head. I knocked off a few more states. The time came when I thought my list was complete. I counted 49 states. For the life of me, I could not think of the state I was missing. I sat there for what seemed like ten minutes, trying to recall the missing state.

I obviously was very upset and gave up. I scoured down my friends' lists. The state I could not remember was Nebraska.

While this story mostly just serves as an illustration of my ignorance, I tell it because I want everyone to know how little I once thought (and still think) of the city of Lincoln, state of Nebraska, and Cornhusker football program. They literally did not exist to me and exist now only to serve as a stepping stone for Wisconsin's national title hopes. Now it's true that Nebraska's football program has historically been much more successful than Wisconsin's football program. To that I say, "Which team's hasn't?" It's also true that corn, and the name "Cornhuskers" specifically is easy to make fun of. "Cornhusking" could replace "Masturbating" in our everyday language and no one would notice the difference. To paraphrase Socrates, "Anticipate what your opponent will use against you and begin to attack the shit out of their point before they bring it up." So I cannot expect to rag on corn without cheese being thrown in my face, and quite frankly; corn, mixed with cheese, chili powder, and a little bit of pepper is delicious.

The inspiration for Nebraska's current outfit is the once-beautiful, now "in his early thirties and selling something" Eric Crouch. Already experienced in the intricacies of salesmanship, Crouch sold his hopes and dreams to the Nebraska faithful at the turn of the millennium. His efforts culminated in the 2001 Heisman trophy and a Rose Bowl loss to Miami. Drafted in the third round by St. Louis, the Rams aimed to convert Crouch to wide receiver. To which Crouch responded by pounding his fist on the table and shouting, "I'm a quarterback, goddammit!" His NFL days promptly ended after suffering a leg injury and he was last seen playing 4th-string quarterback* for the CFL's Toronto Argonauts.

*The assumption being, a 4th-string quarterback holds two clipboards.

On-again-off-again* "quarterback" Taylor Martinez is Nebraska's present-day Eric Crouch. First, let's clear up a few things: Taylor Martinez is not a girl. And despite his last name, "doesn't look like one of them Mexicans," according to Lincoln residents. One assumes he watched Crouch play growing up and realized quarterbacking the Nebraska football team did not require any quarterback-specific skills. Martinez is one of the best athletes in college football, has an identical number of carries, rushing yards, and touchdowns as his running back Rex Burkhead, and his unable to complete a pass over 10 yards. His 50.6 completion percentage is vintage Crouch.

*The term is used to describe a literal switch that can be used to turn Martinez's brain on and off.

Martinez garnered headlines last season when ESPN cameras caught his coach, Bo Pelini, laying into him during the first half of a Texas A&M away game. Staring into the maroon colored sea, Martinez thought of the prime Texas ribs he'd be digging into that night. He said nothing. Pelini was hot over a phone call Martinez apparently made to his father in the locker room. Martinez was injured and taken into the X-Ray facility. After being cleared to play, Martinez headed over to the locker room, retrieved his cell phone, and made a call to his father to tell him he was alright. Pelini caught wind of the incident and confronted his quarterback. According to team rules, cell phones are banned from the locker room. Pelini was also upset because his only chance of winning was dicking around in the locker room when he could have been playing. He suspended Martinez for the next game. Martinez's dad caught wind of the suspension, informed Pelini his son was transferring, and suggested his son wear a boot at practice to make it appear as if he couldn't play because of injury. Martinez left the switch off and put the boot on his uninjured foot. Martinez's father felt it would be harder to find a transfer school if other teams found out his son missed a game to suspension. News of Martinez's imminent transfer hit the papers and everything went to hell, including Pelini himself during the offseason for what he called, "a pleasant little vacation."

Here is the video of the incident:



Pelini's outburst is misunderstood to this day and more accurately went down like this:

Pelini: Were you fucking talking on your cell phone. [posed as a question but not meant to be one.]

Martinez: ...

Pelini: You were talking to my daughter. My goddamn daughter. Weren't you. ['']

Martinez: ...

Pelini: She's nine fucking years old. NINE!

Martinez: ...

Pelini: I know you weren't talking about Wizards of Fucking Waverly Place.

Martinez: ...

Pelini: If you fucking call my daughter ever again, under any circumstances, but especially on the fucking field during a game again it'll be the last fucking thing you ever do. Now get your fucking ass out here mother fucker.

Martinez: [under his breath and after Pelini is a safe distance away] Little bitch.

This is the relationship Nebraska is working with here. These are the two people whose civility determines whether or not they win football games. Martinez left the switch off all offseason and forgot his father decided for him to transfer. He's still in Lincoln, still the starter, and a beloved playmaker until Nebraska loses their first game. Now for the mascots.

Well, it appears to be in the shape of a Big Boy. Well, in many ways the Big Boy never left, sir. He's always offered the same high-quality meals at competitive prices. This photo also serves as a visual representation of the Cornhuskers' passing game.

Mmmm Hmmm. Narm narm narm. Which one of you fine ladies gets off on being tied up and strapped onto the end of my tractor? Really, Lil' Red? This is your hero?

Bold Prediction Number One: Taylor Martinez accomplishes the opposite of the Chicago Bears' offense last week: 278 rushing yards and 13 passing yards.

Bold Prediction Number Two: Both teams combine for over 80 points, and 65 of them will not be scored by Wisconsin.

Final Score: Wisconsin 45 - 40 Nebraska. Neither team can stop the other. Bielema and Pelini's postgame handshake is gif worthy. The 30,000 Nebraska fans that are supposedly making the trip to Madison turn out to be closer to 15,000. Most of those 15,000 get lost on the way back to their irrelevant state because they don't know how to read a map and/or cannot afford a GPS.