-Desmond Howard on striking the pose during The Game in 1991.
I didn't start speaking in earnest until I was three years old. My parents were very concerned for quite some time. They were actually concerned enough that they took me to the doctor to make sure I wasn't mute or autistic. When I finally started speaking it became obvious that I had just been biding my time, focusing intently on one thing: sports. I knew all the names to all the players donning the maize and blue. As I grew and started to be able to dribble the basketball I wanted to be Jalen Rose. I chose the number six for my first soccer team because I wanted to be Tyrone Wheatley (I know Tyrone Wheatley didn't play soccer so that doesn't make sense, but I was 5 years old. Give me a fucking break.) Some of my first memories are of Desmond Howard streaking to the end zone as Keith Jackson belted out "Hello Heisman!" I remember clearly jumping to my feet screaming and cheering as the Fab Five came back in East Lansing and again as Jalen went off in Champaign in front of the Orange Crush. When I attended my cousin's graduation from MSU I may have asked the entire family why I was there because, "It's not like State is a real school anyway." I may have received a well deserved beating for that little comment too. As I got older I decided I wanted to be a cornerback after watching Charles Woodson snag an impossible interception against MSU. Take a few minutes and watch all those moments and try not to smile if you're a Michigan fan. From my youngest years I was a loud and proud Michigan fan, because that's where I'm from and that's what we do.
These last few years have been rough though. There have been too many memories that will get lumped in with those not so fond childhood moments like Desmond being tripped in the end zone or Chris Webber calling timeout. Hell, these last three years have been a lifetime of terrible memories as far as Michigan fans are concerned. I've almost been glad to be in a war zone rather than Ann Arbor during our rivalry games.
I see our football team struggling. I also see what they can become. No one will ever convince me that 10 wins wasn't our floor with Rodriguez this upcoming season...and then I see a coaching change made that might make us wait awhile longer. I hear our rivals laughing and jeering. Hell, some OSU fans don't even bother with that anymore. They've resorted to pure pity for us now. And yet, we have 20+ returning starters, so how much can we really slip? (Don't answer that, especially if you're a State fan and more experienced with crushed dreams). The truth, whether you're a Hoke, Rodriguez, or rival fan, is that Michigan's football future is bright no matter who is at the helm.This winter was expected to be even bleaker on the hardwood. But even though we have the youngest basketball team West of Kim Jong Il's pleasure squad, our boys have somehow battled back to become a tournament team. I might argue that they've become one of the most compelling teams in the nation this past month. They're talented, and they have heart, and they're fun to watch. They do dumb shit sometimes, but again...I can see the spark. I can see the future out of these guys and it's great. It's what the future of a basketball power should look like.
Meanwhile our two biggest rivals are celebrating mixed bags. Ohio State finally slipped up and is backtracking to explain why their "saint" of a football coach wouldn't tell the NCAA about obvious infractions or at least bench the players he knew were clearly ineligible. But they still have the #1 overall seed in the NCAA tournament, and they can still point to the scoreboard this past decade. We've finally managed to sweep MSU in their flagship sport for the first time since I was in junior high and the Spartan football team has completed their annual assault banquet. And yet, they can still point to the last three years, the best they've had in half a century.
Before the 2008 NFL Draft the Onion did a breakdown of Jake Long and it includ ed a bullet that said, "Went to Michigan, so he'll probably be fucking insufferable about that." I love that, because in the satire is truth. We're proud beyond reason. We wear our pride like a badge of honor like no other alums I've met do. It's not just where we went to school, it's a deep part of our identity. And it's part of the fun of being a Michigan fan and alum. Whether it's on the field, court, ice, mat, in the pool, lab, or even fucking space, bitches...we win. And yeah, we like to talk about it. Enough that national sportswriters include notes to reassure us that our team is safely in the tournament and please don't flood their inbox. Enough that our national basketball legacy has been turned into a documentary (highest rated ever) about brash, trash talking, wunderkinds who changed the entire culture of the sport. They brought swagger into it. They brought style to it. They embodied that Michigan spirit that some people, mainly members of lowly rival fanbases, like to call arrogance.
This week the Fab Five documentary was aired and it was incredible. It's been almost 20 years since those kids ignited Crisler Arena. A few things popped out from that first Duke game. Did you see the way the crowd was going nuts? Did you see how fun it was to be Michigan? To be unapologetically great? Michigan trailed by 10 at the half and judging from the ovation there wasn't a single person in Crisler that didn't seem to believe in the kids on the floor. It's something I've rarely experienced this last decade, and I want it back. I want our teams to walk out on the court or field and expect to dominate. I want opposing teams to know that no matter how good they think they are, and no matter what they'll accomplish, they'll be remembered for their games against the boys in Maize and Blue.
I've held my tongue the last three years. I haven't talked shit at all. I've been gracious in what few victories we've had, and even more so in the many defeats we've suffered. I've seen why our rivals are our rivals because when they win the talk never ends. And when they lose it's, "Wait til next year," or, "Oh, sure, you have ONE good season..." I've been mute, biding my time once again.
Tomorrow, our too-young-to-compete basketball team will step onto the court as an 8 seed, and most of the Asshats on ESPN are picking them to bow out in the first round against Tennessee. The last few years whisper to me that they're probably right, that I shouldn't get too excited or set my expectations too high. That if we, as a fanbase, get too brash, too confident, the response from every hater crawling in the AIDS swamps of East Lansing and Columbus will be deafening when we fall.
But I see the future coming friends. It's got many great moments. I see more "Hellooooo Heisman!" I see banners being raised and parades to the President's house. I see a lot of moments that are going to be really hard to be quiet about. And I see them coming soon. And knowing all this, I've been really wrestling with myself. Should I do it? Should I not? Should I do it? Should I not?
Hey, fuck it.
WE GONNA SHOCK THE WORLD!
I'm pretty sure you're autistic
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