Low Desert

The butterfly effect, but for college football. (Patrick Barron)

It happened fast, it's over quick

A little dust and the engine kicks

Did your hands drift down off the wheel?

Roll out, hit your windshield

An eyelash or a little bit of sleep? Time stands still

Just call it now and you're on your way

--"Low Desert" by R.E.M. from their 1996 album New Adventures in Hi-Fi

There's this moment after any loss, especially a one-score loss, where you try to figure out what the difference was, what was the "if you change one thing" moment that would have made things different.  This game had so many of those moments, that performing the exercise would become a catalog, which in turn, become almost a ranting litany of grievances.   That is not what this will be, because the biggest point that needs to be made is that TCU played an excellent game and did everything it needed to do to win.  Michigan did not.  For all of the what-ifs and maybes, it still comes back to that simple fact.  That Michigan was still in this game speaks volumes to the team's effort, its fight, and its character, but the reality is that it wasn't enough on this day.  The dreams of a national title died on middling turf grass in the desert.

I waited to write something up because I wanted to see if I would feel different with a little time, but it has stayed the same.  I'm sad about the result, but I understand how it arrived.  How mad can one be when the team you are rooting for never led in a game where they looked anything but themselves?  

Maybe it's the benefit of age and time that I would rather focus on the joy that the first thirteen games of this year brought me and so many others than the ending no one wanted.  It's easy to understand that when the mountain presents itself to you, to not reach the summit for whatever reason must be considered a disappointment.  But so much time was spent wondering if Michigan could ever get back to this point, that to ignore the mountain below is also perilous.  

At some point, I will understand why Michigan has such a poor record in bowl games, but I tell this to myself every year, and I have never come any closer to an answer.  It will remain a mystery until it ceases to be a mystery, but until then, it will just be a fact of life in late December/early January.

That's it for another season, thank you as always for being along for the ride.  We'll see where the days take us when we head back to our (Big) house up north in September.              

Maybe Sparrow

Pictures really are worth a thousand words, sometimes. (Patrick Barron)

Maybe sparrow you should wait

The hawks alight till morning

You'll never pass beyond the gate

If you don't hear my warning

Notes are hung so effortless

With the rise and fall of sparrow's breast

It's a drowning dive and back to the chorus

La di da di da di da

La di da di da di da

Oh my sparrow it's too late

Your body limp beneath my feet

Your dusty eyes cold as clay

You didn't hear my warning

Maybe sparrow it's too late

Moonlight glanced off metal wings

In a thunderstorm above the clouds

The engine hums a sparrow's phrase

For those who cannot hear the words

For those who cannot hear the words

For those who will not hear the words

La di da di da di da

La di da di da di da

--"Maybe Sparrow" by Neko Case from her 2006 album Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

There are so many things that one could say about this game but they all come back to one simple truth, Georgia is an excellent football team.  I don't mean excellent in the everyday use of the word; I mean excellent from the Latin meaning "being preeminent."  Georgia defense, which the college football ecosystem spent most of a season calling one of the greatest ever, learned from their mistakes in the SEC Championship Game and played this entire affair like a singular vision of vengeance drove them, Michigan being a mere underboss to get back to the final battle.  Georgia had better athletes across the board, a top-notch game plan, and was crisp in their execution.  You might be able to pull an upset if one of those things isn't firing for your opponent, but when all three hit, it's a long night.

Michigan never quit, though.  They never looked lost or disappointed, or frustrated.  They kept trying, and they were rewarded with a late touchdown.  Perhaps a meaningless cosmetic rearguard action that made the final score look more respectable, but when you realize it was freshman JJ McCarthy finding freshman Andrel Anthony with a critical pass block from freshman Donovan Edwards, the notes of what the future may hold. If nothing else, a small moment of joy for Michigan in a genuinely thorough processing by the Bulldogs.

Many wanted Michigan fans to be sadder about this result than we were, but in the end, nothing of what happened on the last day of 2021 can take away the other joys of 2021.  This team was not supposed to be close to here; their bowl game predictions slated for something earlier in the week in a locale more akin to Nashville.  That it wasn't, that this team slew so many of the dragons that tormented the program and the fanbase, that is the memory of this season.  It may be a new beginning, it may be a one-off, it may be, like much of life in college football's upper-middle-class, a taste of something that may be hard to get back to consistently.  We don't know because the future holds infinite paths, but only one that will become manifest.  But the past is written.  This team will come back to Michigan Stadium in 2031 and celebrate a ten-year reunion, and be applauded by a fanbase that remembers what they did and appreciates it, either for its rarity or as the beginning of something new.

Thank you, Team 142, forever Go Blue.