Hope

I'm moving forward because there's only two choices: wallow in bitterness or accept the whims of cruel fate and hope the universe sees fit to balance them out in the long run.

But it is better to take action than just to say you're moving forward.  Thankfully, our friends at the Big Ten office have decided that, in addition to a "public reprimand" for Coach Harbaugh for his postgame comments, they have fined Michigan $10,000 for violations of the Big Ten's sportsmanship policy.

Now, we're not worried about Michigan's ability to pay the fine.  In fact, I'm pretty sure Warde Manuel has a small piggy bank in Weidenbach Hall labeled "Harbaugh Says Something Fund" filled with the petty cash overflow from Michigan Stadium popcorn sales that will cover it no sweat.  But, it gave our blog friend Justin at MaizeandGoBlue an idea, one supported by Kerri from SupportUofM and Brad from Maize & Blue Nation as well as us here at the HSR, to launch a fundraiser benefiting The ChadTough Foundation.

This is a chance for all of us to turn a negative into a positive, to turn disappointment into hope, and to prove that the power of the Ann Arbor money cannon is a force for good.
The plan is as such:
Step 1: Raise $10k for The ChadTough Foundation by kickoff of this Saturday’s Big Ten Championship Game
Step 2: Once we raise $10k, let’s challenge the Big Ten to match the donation
Step 3: Let's make this a conversation piece during the Big Ten Championship Game
We’re all part of a big Michigan family, so let's show that when a family faces disappointment it can come together and make big things happen.  Spread the word on your social media channels, get the snowball rolling.

Visit the fundraiser to donate now.

No amount is too large or too small.  (We personally like $27.00 for what the winning score would have been had the spot been adjudicated in Michigan's favor or $17.00 if you're old school and think the tie would have been perhaps more fitting an outcome for a battle of this magnitude.)

Then, once you donate, please share via social media to help generate awareness. Full details on the fundraiser page.


We thank you in advance on this "Giving Tuesday" and as always, forever Go Blue!

Wrongs Darker Then Death or Night

Hope dies last.  (Credit: Getty Images / Gregory Shamus)

In retrospect, they should have gone for two.  Speight wanted it.  It would have met with widespread approbation, win or lose, like a similar decision three years ago.  The defense was gassed because of the offense, led by the wounded Wilton Speight; one that managed five meager yards in the fourth quarter.  They had just found Amara Darboh in the back of the end zone at the end of the first overtime period.  But they did not, putting the game back on the offense and it nearly worked until Grant Perry was mugged on third down, forcing Michigan to settle for a field goal.

The defense damn near did the thing.  Curtis Samuel ran the width of the Horseshoe on third down and somehow still came up a yard short of the 15. Confusion reigned.  Urban Meyer didn't trust his kicker (with good reason) and initially tried to just punch it on fourth and 1, then thought better of it, called a timeout, then thought better of that and sent the offense back out to try and get that yard.

That yard.  For the remainder of my days, likely in spite of whatever epistemological evidence presented to the contrary, I will never fully believe that J.T. Barrett made the line to gain.  The spot was generous, and there is no way that the officials, who had somehow seen fit to only reprimand Ohio State with six penalty yards for the entire game, were going to reverse that call on replay at that stadium.  The next play was just the denouement.  It didn't matter how, it didn't matter who, it just mattered that it was the only logical conclusion at that point.

So it's disappointing, bitterly so, and I wish I had some "Well, let's look on the bright side." notion to present this day.  But I do not.  Michigan played well enough to win, except for the turnovers, which is like saying I ran the marathon well except for the 12 miles I used a Segway.  It's a rather large exception, one that cannot just be blithely overlooked.  But I think it's worth remembering that few of us expected Wilton Speight was going to play in this game, and he was limited.  Michigan did not complete a pass over 20 yards downfield.  Speight not at 100% was still the best choice, but it was not necessarily enough to win.  We're left with so many "not enoughs" during the course of this century.  It is almost worse than the Rodriguez or Hoke eras.  This team is a great team, it beat both of the Big Ten's division winners, as well as the winner of the Pac 12 South.  But it couldn't win on the road, even if it was a one-point loss at the last second in one case, and a three-point loss in double overtime in the other, it's still cold comfort and it's still a pair of L's on the standings board.  Ohio gets to feel superior for another year and questions remain, what ifs abound.

So I don't have the words right now, I don't know if I will ever have the words.  I want there to be some grand epiphany about this result and what it means, but this just feels like a "life isn't fair" moment and sometimes the universe just needs to remind you of that fact, even if it has done so repeatedly over the course of this year.  There may be a lesson someday, down the road, where the dots connect in retrospect, but I am reminded of something Nate Silver said in The Signal and the Noise, which I just finished last night:

However, the context we provide can be biased and self-serving. As Cicero warned Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, "Men may construe things, after their fashion / Clean from the purpose of the things themselves." We may focus on those signals which advance our preferred theory about the world, or might imply a more optimistic outcome.

Another edition of The Game is in the books.  Some will call it a classic.  I will call it over.

Kohn O'Jorn

Wilton Speight's injury could not have come at a worse time for anagram makers. He missed the snow game! There are 385 anagrams of Wilton Speight that contain the word snow! But Speight's shoulder prevents us from enjoying them, just as his shoulder prevented him from doing snow angels after Saturday's win.

Fortunately, I was somewhat prepared for this contingency, as I had considered the possibility of the O'Korn-meter before the season, as August, much like now, was a time when Harbaugh was being very coy about who the starting QB is. So I had a system sketched out to rank the offense according to songs by Korn and their nü-metal compatriots. Fortunately we were reprieved from having to do that for 10 weeks!

My heart has, by Sunday night, convinced myself that the entire game was played in a blizzard and thus O'Korn's 7/16, 59-yard day was perfectly reasonable under the circumstances. My brain knows, however, that the first three quarters of that game was not played in a winter wonderland, and that Ohio State is going to require a much stronger QB performance. A kickass day from De'Veon Smith only goes so far.

The O'Korn-meter starts off at a 3. I think Trapt's "Headstrong" was the third-worst nü-metal hit, but I'm not going to listen to a bunch of nü-metal to find out for sure.

Cold Front

A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight... (Photo by Isaiah Hole)

Chaos, we must be reminded, disguises itself as normal, but just ever so askew.  It does not walk up to you as a manic street preacher, foretelling the end times and calling for your repentance.  That would be too easy.  Then again, maybe it wouldn't.  The person telling you the truth that you didn't want to hear could be and would be easily dismissed and then you would be shocked, shocked, to learn that they were, in fact, telling you the truth.

For all of our calling Indiana #CHAOSTEAM, we tended to presume that Michigan would bounce back from the disappointment of that night at Kinnick, and rally behind John O'Korn and figure out how to get by Indiana, a team Michigan has not lost to since 1987, and has not lost in Ann Arbor to since 1967.  But the same problems from last week, from the last month, really, were cropping up.  Slightly off target passes, bad luck on spots, every toss-up ball to an Indiana receiver managing to be good for a solid gain.  By the end of a cold and blustery first half at Michigan Stadium, only Kenny Allen's punting seemed to be going right and Michigan and its fans felt fortunate that if this was the first time all season that they were going into the locker room at halftime down, it was only a 7-3 margin.

So the Chaos did come, but, as chaos is wont to do, it came from something seemingly random.  On a third and eight, John O'Korn used his feet, the one part of his game that everyone seemed to agree was stronger that Speight's, and scrambled for 30 yards into Indiana territory.  After an injury timeout, one handoff to De'Veon Smith saw the senior find the end zone with a little fancy leaping at the end, Michigan retook the lead and would never look back.  A second Smith touchdown, following a second blocked punt and a "missed it by that much" dagger from O'Korn to Darboh and there was some breathing room.

No, the chaos came in the snow late in the game.  It snowed.  Goodness did it snow.  In five minutes of game time, Michigan Stadium was transformed from a chilled November in the gloaming to a snowglobe of wonder, the flakes reflecting off the high-powered stadium lights in a way that was more calming that anything else.  Concurrent to this, Michigan did something it had not been able to do against Michigan State or Iowa in the fourth quarter, as they milked a 15 play drive for 51 yards, but more to the point, over eight minutes of game time, assuring that Indiana would have to move the ball in Hoth-like conditions to mount any form of a comeback and reminding them that we would see them in Hell when their Tauntaun died before they reached the first marker.

The snow swirled, the joy of a perfect home season settled over the crowd, a reminder that not every season at Michigan Stadium must end in disappointment, as had become familiar over the last decade or so.  The first snowfall of the season is a reminder of the joyful feeling that snow can provide before the cold, harsh realities of a long Michigan winter settle over you.  But, as a symbol of an ending, for this massive senior class, for those who have seen lows and highs in somewhat equal measure,

Now comes Ohio State week.  A truncated work week as we celebrate that which we are thankful for while simultaneously what we both covet and dread.  There is no reason to believe that Michigan can't go down to Columbus and get a win, but that knowledge comes with the caveat that it's going to require virtually everything to go right for Blue and a lot of things to go wrong for the Buckeyes.  But that is likely more the realities of the 21st century speaking in the back of my mind.  Never stop fighting until the fight is through.  Here endeth the lesson.

All Good Things...

And now, a symbolic moment from the evening's proceedings. (Credit: AP / Charlie Neibergall)

There's no great lesson in this one, because this is, virtually, a textbook loss.  So I suppose that it is ironic, that there is no lesson.  Michigan had any number of chances to capitalize on opportunities, failed to do so, and left the game in the hands of the team that had the ball last.  We've seen this book all too often.  Michigan State 2001 comes to mind.  Iowa 1985 comes to mind.  We could make a list of them and we would look at that list, smile, nod, and say "that's the way it goes, sometimes."

As I watched last night, I hoped this would fall into the category of the "near death experience" game, where everything goes wrong and Michigan somehow manages to hold on (think Iowa 1997, as one example.)  Especially when it looked like the fickle finger of fate that is the John O'Neill officiating crew gives you the gift of "roughing the center" (which, same crew, did NOT call at the end of Michigan State last year when it was far more obvious.)  You hope for the best, but the fear never really leaves you.  When a field goal can win it, it's almost all too easy to see it coming.  The facemask, that may or may not have happened, essentially sealed Michigan's fate.

My hope is that this is not a harbinger of how things can fall apart, but rather the "OK, we're not as good as we thought we were" reminder.  We won't really know anything this week (unless we lose, which, ugh) but we're back to where we were, needing to win at Columbus to move forward.  We shall see.

One serious note: Dear Michigan players.  I know you are happy when you score, I am happy as well.  Please, however, stop headbutting each other.  With an actual focus on concussions and head trauma, even these small impacts, which are wholly unnecessary in the grand scheme of things, are just not a good look.  Celebrate, but do so responsibly.

Concerning Flight

They just spent like two or three weeks out the country / Them boys up to something, they just not just bluffing (AP Photo)

It is joyful.  It may not be joyful in the future, there may be rough sledding yet to come.  Joyful does not mean perfect, there are obviously things to correct.  But it is joyful.  It is joyful to watch this team.  So well coached, executing at the highest level, running interesting and dynamic play calls, showing interesting concepts, connecting on passes in rhythm, and generally making it fun to watch Michigan football.

Yes, winning makes everything better.  But as someone who remembers the Carr years, there was not this joy.  Michigan football, for so many years, even when it was winning football, had hints of joylessness.  It felt, at times, like a thing that had to be done.  But Michigan was winning, so it was good.  Then came the Rodriguez years, which had flashes of brilliance, but more of chaos and of agony.  The early promise of the Hoke years died in the rain of Utah and the Shane Morris incident.  Happiness came in the form of gallows humor and knowing nods at the other members of the tribe.

This changed with Harbaugh.  We saw flashes of it last year, we could not sell ourselves the notion that they would be this much better from Year 1 to Year 2.  We got that bill of goods sold to us, hard, in 2009.  We're wearing scars of wounds we only remember we have when something reminds us of them in a way we were not expecting. We didn't know if the quarterback would be an issue.  Instead, Speight has become a quietly efficient machine, eluding pass rushers and dropping pinpoint passes into buckets.  He leaped across the goal line because he thought he saw a tackler, but ended up with style and flair points.  We didn't know if Michigan could establish the run.  Instead, we get a seemingly infinitely headed hydra of options, with De'Veon Smith shaking defenders off his foot, and Chris Evans blazing into the secondary like he was leaving flame tracks in his wake.

This is why Harbaugh is worth every dollar he gets.  He understands how to get the players to execute and to excel and to want to find ways to be better.  But he does not suck the joy out of the process.  Harbaugh's teams are teams.  They are loose, they are light, and they are supportive of each other.  It is easy to mock Michigan for the things we want to believe we are and the stories that we tell ourselves that we are, but it is clear that this team is keeping in the best traditions and proper spirit of what Michigan holds itself out to be.

The oddness of a Kinnick night presents itself as the next challenge.  Michigan will be ready for it.  We are hopeful that the joy will follow.

(Additional joy notes from the Maryland side: the Maryland kick return duo of D.J. Moore and Jake Funk wins the prize for "kick returners that sound most like a Macklemore knockoff.
Similarly, Perry Hills wins the current B1G prize for "Quarterback whose name sounds most like an MHSAA Division 5 football playoff qualifier, edging ahead of Tyler O'Connor.)

Look at Lord Autumnbottom over there

Pies in the face are only funny is the sap has dignity, but this, on the other hand, is only funny because the sap doesn't have dignity:

The man desperately striving for dignity and failing to achieve it is an American archetype. Willy Loman fantasizes about Uncle Ben. Fredo Corleone insists, indignantly, that he is smart. And much like Fredo, this year Michigan State is being passed over for its even younger brother (WMU).

Going for two when you know you're going to lose is football's version of saying "I'm smart and I want respect. As
Spencer Hall said about the Illinois game, there's something uniquely sad about scoring 8 points in a blowout loss, about having a permanent record that you thought you had a chance. In art, the striver can be a tragic figure, a sign of wasted potential or of the agony of living with a fundamental misunderstanding of how the world works. Football rarely goes for the kind of existential tragedy. It's just funny instead.

Oh, the Speightmeter was delayed this week. Speight is John Navarre this week in honor of the classic Lloydball second half. The offense tried for about 70% of the game, so 7/10 on the Speightmeter seems about right. The extremely conservative fourth-quarter offense may have been strategically sound, but I wonder if there was a little more to it. Out here is civilian-land, saying you took your foot out the gas might be considered an act of mercy, but I can't escape the feeling that for Jim Harbaugh, easing up at the end is the most contemptuous act he could ever imagine inflicting on an enemy. Being considered worthy of the effort necessary to get your butt kicked 78-0 is more dignified than that.