I spent last Thursday night watching a Ronnie Hawkins documentary. I spent Saturday afternoon at an Arkansas Razorback watch party. In the time in between those two events, I observed the build up of the large community of Natural State ex-pats with whom I work, live and carouse. From then through the end of the game, one line from The Hawk, another Razorback in exile, kept coming into my mind:
"The Big Time is right around the corner.' They told me that for the first time in 1952. Boy, it's been a long corner. If I don't hit the Big Time in the next 25 or 30 years, I'm going to pack in the music business and become a full-time gigolo."
So says Jevan Snead about the Golden Tips of Dexter McCluster taking a slip screen to the house while Snead was face down in the turf. Jevan found his talent, and Houston Nutt has rediscovered his magical play-calling silver platter buried under the stack of autographed Sports Illustrated preview issues on his desk. After cursing Houston for leaving it collecting dust for almost an entire year, the Silver Platter of the Sacred Grove screamed "GET THE BALL TO THAT LITTLE BASTARD WITH THE GOLDEN TIPS!"
Tyrone Nix called a masterful mix of blitz packages that kept the happy feet of the 8 Mile stepping and the balls sailing. And as if that weren't enough, Nix snuck into Greg Hardy's dorm room the night before, stole Hardy's Hannah Montana: Best of Both Worlds DVD and then blamed it on Mallett, because as has been pointed out, he looks like a guy who might do such a thing. It adds a whole other level of fear and confusion when the 275 lb future first round draft pick is screaming "GIVE ME BACK MILEY!" as he comes barreling after you (referencing Hardy's quote earlier this week about renting a Miley Cyrus movie...link to come, hopefully).
Next week, Auburn. And what Basil and the rest of the Arkansas fan base will say (when they finally regain their faculties from yesterday), is that this is the classic recipe for a Houston Nutt letdown game. Coming off a great win and thoughtful coaching, the Nutt teams lose focus against lesser opponents and have a hard time maintaining success. I don't know if I'm buying that. Last year, when Jevan's light finally come on, he kept it going for most of the rest of the season. There's no reason to believe our defense has shown any sign of let-up and could actually get better if our offense can start to put up early leads and force opposing teams into more obvious passing situations. Not saying I'm not a little worried about a dropped game next week, Auburn's still an SEC team playing at home. I still have some belief that Gus Malzahn is competent and perhaps genius offensive mind (though he's working with somebody else's parts at the moment). It could very well all come crashing down, but right now, all is right with the world and we're on our way to a mildly satisfying 10-win season. On that note, I give you a beautiful woman singing a badass song. There is probably more football from yesterday to discuss, but the radiance of the Golden Tips prevents me from acknowledging any of it at the moment.
The shine is off and now we find ourselves back where we're most comfortable-- lost in the middle of the SEC pack somewhere behind more established powers, playing the early morning lo-fi undercard and our off-field eccentricities getting the bulk of the media play. Nobody really knows where we fit into the fray, but it's clear we're neither leading the back or bringing up the rear.
It's been said by more than a few of my fellow Ole Miss fans that this game is where we'll find out what we are. The same was said for South Carolina. And Alabama. A win, and we're back on track to a 10 or 9 win campaign, another step forward from last January's high and respectable postseason bid. Lose, and we're back in Shreveport playing $5 blackjack with stretch-marked cocktail waitresses wondering if this is all there is for us and cursing our foolish delusions of grandeur.
The biggest problem anybody has is when you start to believe the things other people say about you, good or bad. An outside voice that lends validity to your own wild fantasy/paranoia can be more an incredibly dangerous thing. We've had both. In a vacuum, all Ole Miss fans always harbor wild hopes of a return to glory and prominence, shedding the weight of the past and rising back to national relevance. In the same soaked corner of your brain is the idea that we're the fuck-up sons in a prominent family, and we should be grateful that our more accomplished relations allow us to sit at their table and share their affiliation. What gets expressed will generally trend toward whatever side of the thought process the outside world lends the most credence to. I feel like that's where the Ole Miss and Arkansas fanbases come together, and it's what makes our shotgun rivalry of Houston Nutt-dom so interesting.
What we both need to realize is that, in the end, we'll be judged on our results and any success we have will be on our own backs. It needs to be a trench warfare mentality. Nobody's got our backs. Nobody really believes in us. Somebody's got to be built up so that they can be torn down, and we're useful for that purpose on occasion. But we're nobody's darlings, and what success we have is our own. Fuck everything else.
Everybody wants to see you fall. That's why they always love to get you high.
The Arkansas defense seems to have taken steps forward and the Ole Miss offense seems to have taken steps back. But what has Arkansas done? They've been steamrolled by Alabama like everybody else. They put up a decent fight against an Auburn offense that has since been shown to be lacking and kicked the bones of the elephant graveyard in the Big 12 against Texas A&M. Even the Florida offense has looked uninspired thus far (though it needs to be noted that the same could be said about Florida at this time last year). Their safeties still suck. Their linebackers are athletic and aggressive but don't possess a great deal of sense or discipline. They live off of blind pressure and a prayer of deep inaccuracy.
Florida lived off the screens for what success they had on offense. Georgia lived off of blindly heaving the ball down the field in hopes that the safeties were out of position. Nobody has combined both approaches, but we've got the tools to do it. Let Grandy, Pat Patterson, Lionel Breaux loose down the damn field and tell Opie to chuck the fucking ball. When you run, run hard, quick and between the tackles. When you throw, throw deep. When Jerry Franklin has a boner through his football pants, screen.
Our defense is nothing short of greasy, swaggering violence second only to Alabama in the SEC. Mallett does not handle pressure, and as Kentrell Lockett has astutely pointed out, he'll generally be right where you think he is. "When you get there, he'll be there." Arkansas has put up numbers against crappy defenses and folded spectacularly when somebody has gotten in their face.
The only outside voice I believe is the blind voice of money. People in Vegas know things. I've learned this the hard way during darker times. And the business community, who has no interest in our hype or deflation outside of cold calculus, still believe we're a decent team playing another decent team on our home field and have apportioned a healthy 6.5 point margin in our favor. This gives me more hope than anything else. Vegas cares not for storylines or student section chants or Heisman fluffer missions. It's a weigh and measure in the true sense of the word.
There was a guy I went to college with who was affectionately known as The Custodian, because he would pick up what others left behind. There was no reason for it. He could stand on his own and hold his weight on the normal market when he was so inclined, but always slipped back into the slop. After a while, he almost preferred it in a weird way.
How did he get there? I'm sure at one point he had a crisis of confidence and resorted to what has now commonly come to be known as a slumpbuster. You justify the step down as a temporary fix in a hard stretch, and then you'll return to your normal standards once times get flush again. But it doesn't always work the same for everybody and every time you go back down the ladder, it gets harder to build up the will to crawl back up. Kind of how Hawaiians developed a taste for SPAM out of necessity, but then kept on eating it. Decades after the shortages of war have ended, they're still confusing it for a delicacy. Now they're standing in an Oahu supermarket with a ribeye in one hand and a tin can of processed meat in the other with a legitimate crisis of indecision. After a while, they quit even picking up the steak and head straight for the comfort and ease of the scrub.
In the case of the Custodian, mix in a natural tendency toward the thickness, and he was screwed with the first hit. So it is with Ole Miss and UAB. We came down a step and took care of business for business's sake. The important thing is not to get to the point where you start to confuse a stopgap for an actual solution. If you're not careful, your whole life can slip into one long slumpbusting session. What happened last night against UAB was fine. We slapped it to watch it roll, and that's all well and good. Just don't start to think it was an actual conquest, and let's jump back up the ladder next week. Speaking of next week:
Let's put one last stamp on the theme started on Friday of war songs for the Arkansas/Florida game...
"I hope you died quick, and I hope you died clean. Oh Basil Shabazz, was it slow and obscene?"
Oh sure, pick on the kicker with the funny name. Or the refs. Or The Divine Tebow. Here's the cold truth for the Hog Nation-- Your defense laid down a valiant performance to keep it close and then you were foiled by poor quarterback play in the clutch and bad special teams...sound familiar? And there wasn't a Dick or Nutt in sight. Last season, Houston took his underdog team into the Swamp under impossible odds, played them close...and came away with a win. Just saying.
Ryan 8 Mile Mallet is a good quarterback, but he got the happy feet once again under pressure and air mailed what should have been touchdowns on at least two occasions. But that's cool, let's pound on the kicker. Though an Arkansas fan did sum up their new quarterback pretty well when he said, "Ryan Mallet looks like a guy who would break into your house and steal your DVDs." Yep. It's going to be a good week on the blog.
Other thoughts:
Auburn/Kentucky- This is really inconvenient from a blogging standpoint. Last week, I developed this whole idea of Gus Malzahn as the wronged genius of Captain Nemo about to go on a tour of a unexpected revenge on the world that did him wrong...then they lose to Arkansas in a game where the offense was average at best (though it might be time to re-examine how we feel about a Hog defense that looks much improved since the Georgia game). Then, this week, they only put up 14 points at home in a loss to Kentucky. It was going to be a great running joke for the season and now, just ruined. The Nautilus had to turn back shortly after leaving port because of an overflowing toilet- it's always the small details that get you. Such a shame. There was so much good blogging that could've been done here, up to and including rewriting the Kirk Douglas "Whale of a Tale" song from the perspective of Houston Nutt.
OU/Texas- At Gameday, several proud Oklahomans displayed a sign saying "Keep Norman Normal." During one night in Austin, I almost broke my leg after falling out of a homemade bunk while making out with a girl dressed (or half dressed) as Maverick from Top Gun. This was in April. This pretty much sums up why I have to support the Horns in this game. In my mind, the state of Oklahoma represents all that is wrong with the disturbing American glorification of mediocrity that seems to have only gained momentum in the past decade. In Austin, you might stumble into weird gender-bending role playing with a classic 80s cinema character before ejecting from a hastily-crafted temporary sleeping surface. And yeah, shit might get weird and you might get hurt, but at least you won't be in Norman hoping the biscuits are fresh at the Shoney's breakfast buffet.
It's a molasses and coffee kind of morning. I don't mean to turn this into a weekly breakfast-drink themed dispatch, but I feel like it's at least worth mentioning. This morning, there's no ceremony and no plan. Last night went longer than it should. It's cold. It's raining, and I got nowhere to be. Today is Basil and the Arkansans' turn to beat the war drums and head into the breach.
"Oh the drop point was dusty and the drill sergeant was loud. And he could not see the corpses for the raging dust cloud. Grab your duffle bags, head to the checkpoint. Welcome to Vietnam, boys. You're in for a hell of a fight. Take it from the ones who know."
I'm going to build off Basil's post from last night, because I think there's some value to the idea of heading into an inevitable fight that you know has a high probability of leaving you mentally and physically damaged. If you gotta go, you might as well hit the ground with a head full of bad intentions, and I feel like that's where the Hogs are at. That being said, in the back of your mind there's always the lingering wish for a death that's just quick and clean. It's an instinct that is almost universal and universally repressed, but it's there-- I just wish they'd kick our ass early and let me get on with my weekend. Then you end up with something that's drawn-out and dirty, but in the end, still defeat.
So is it worth it? If all roads end at the same cliff, why wouldn't you take the easiest, fastest, most direct path?
Even in the darkest days of the Coach O era when disarray and despair reigned, on those game weekends where you strongly consider putting your ticket back in your pocket, pouring another bourbon and watching the game from the Grove...there's a moment. For me, it almost always comes about halfway into the pregame "From Dixie With Love," where you start to believe. No matter the opponent, the circumstances, the odds...we've got a chance. So you take up your ticket, stash some whiskey on your date (there's a term as a student...the three-airline bottle bust line. Most people wouldn't think there'd be any way to place more value on breasts. Most people also haven't seen the glory of Jack Daniels mini-bottles magically appearing from the top of a red dress, either. Praise be.) and join the migration of the faithful into the stadium, and you carry that mustard seed with you. And then there's something, a long pass, a trick play, a turnover...and the mustard seed bursts. You don't just believe, you know, "We're going to beat these bastards."
The Hogs are going to have these moments today. I have no doubt. And no matter what happens, the brilliance of those sparks of faith trumps whatever darkness follows...when you round the last turn before the cliff and think, "Fuck it. This car's going to fly."
Neither Notre Dame nor Michigan is really all that good. Seriously. I watched it. Was it good football game? No. It was a close football game. There’s a difference. Those two teams are pretty evenly matched and that has to be scary for alums of both. At some point early on, a stat flashed by showing that on average, ND’s O-line outweighed Michigan’s D-line by a large margin, at least 60 pounds. So if you’re Michigan, who seemed to start most plays directly in front of Jimmy Clausen, what do you take from this? You’re really that badass? Maybe so, but I didn’t see it. Tate Forcier; let’s see you in a year. That kid has some moxie. Still, pulling it down and taking off on a play early in the first half, it was clear that he’s still learning what he can and cannot get away with at the college level. He was caught from behind and dropped for a loss. Expect a whole lot more of that in conference play.
What the sam hell is going on at Georgia? They’re supposed to be at the point where they don’t rebuild; they reload. As a Hog fan, I have no idea what to expect next weekend. Oklahoma State handled them. I mean, handled them, like a Hell’s Angel deals with a drunk frat boy. And the Cowboys lose to Houston? As someone who saw many a Southwest Conference game up close and personal, let me assure you, Houston’s football tradition is not rich. Andre Ware, David Klingler and… (if you want to see team love at its finest, check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Houston_Cougars_football; highlight: “Dissolution, Disappointment, Renovation - The Helton Era”) Oklahoma State was basically playing for the national title game. If they win out, which was by no means impossible given their talent, they’re the sacrificial lamb that Tebow has demanded. You can come to me with your letdown, “hard to get up for this game” hoosafudge, blah blah blah, your coach is a man! He’s 40! And by God, he cannot seem to put together a season in which he does not shit the bed at least once! This year it happened early! But I don’t give damn about Eskimo Joe’s; what does this say about the Dawgs? The Cocks scored 30 more points on Georgia than they did on NC State. Once again, as a resident of the Triangle, let me assure you, NC State is a miserable football team. Of course, Arkansas being Arkansas, we’re doomed next week. That could be when UGA puts all together, but they sure as shit haven’t so far.
Lane Kiffin:Asshole, no. In fact, pussy. Wow. 4th and goal from the 2. Hey, if we can’t make two yards on the ground, then we don’t deserve to win. Well sir, the football Gods agreed, because you got beat by a UCLA team that is not all that good at Neyland. These are the types of playcalls that drive me insane. Yes, if you put the ball in the air three things can happen and two of them are bad, but what a gutless call as a coach. Run it. It’s on ya’ll. No, I don’t really know of a play that would beat their defense from this spot, even though it’s two yards and any type of quick hitter has a better than 50% shot of working. And UT fans, the cupboard ain’t bare. I’ve bled Razorback Red since birth; trust me, I’ve seen teams without talent. Further, look to your own staff. Orgeron stockpiled talent at Ole Miss and lost like a son of a bitch. Talent will not make your coach grow some balls or a brain. What a spectacle, though. His dad is making that defense in to something unholy. It was almost like Kiffykins was happy to blow it by the goal line just to turn it over to Monte and Eric Berry to pull this thing out. For the train wreck enthusiasts out there, may I put in an early word for the Tennessee Volunteers, 2009 edition.
Joy! And Pain! Sunshine! And Rain! Pain is watching Damian Williams trot out as a captain for USC and call the coin toss. Pain is watching the starting lineups scroll by and seeing, “WR- Damian Williams, Springdale, Arkansas”. Pain is hearing Kirk Herbstreit say that Williams was an afterthought when he transferred to USC along with Mitch Mustain. Joy? Joy is when you start explaining to your wife that Matt Barkley is a lot like Mitch Mustain was at Arkansas, a young quarterback making his way in the world. You then tell your wife, “and Mustain was undefeated as a college quarterback.” She pauses, takes a sip of wine, and questions Mustain’s sexuality. Joy personified.
Bye week. My fellow Brothers of the Caine have a lot more to play for this year, being the trendy dark horse National Title contenders. For the Hawgs, the early bye was probably a good thing, giving us more time to prepare for the most important game of our season. If we win this one, off we go; a loss and we’re scrapping and clawing the rest of the way.The Rebels, though, they’ve got a long road to that Georgia Dome, and not exactly an ideal situation in regard to depth. The piper plays his song and we all dance to his tune, but that piper, he’s a real son of bitch, and so help me, he will get his due. The piper looks a lot like Omar Little. Come week 11, the training rooms in Oxford and Fayetteville may well ring with some crazy ass mofo whistling the “Farmer in the Dell”.
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