Northwestern Basketball Coaching Search

They're all gathered from 'round the globe, in their purple regalia and their academic hats and their business-casual khakis.  The Northwestern faithful are huddled together at the Rebeca Crown Center waiting for the signs of a decision: black smoke means no decision has been made, purple smoke means a new coach, red smoke means they've found an occasion to use that smoke machine that the University Police seized from the raid on an off-campus Dillo Day party, and white smoke indicates an overextended, overwrought, and clumsy comparison between hiring a new basketball coach and picking a pope.
 
In my defense, how often do you get to make topical Pope Smoke 
references?  Unless we can convince Hollywood to get a lot more 
secretive and ostentatious about how they choose the new host of 
Family Feud.

Bill Carmody, who served for thirteen years as the head coach of Northwestern, was fired after a depleted, injury-riddled squad did what every single Northwestern did in the history of the program and missed the NCAA tournament.  For thirteen years, Carmody's teams have tormented Big Ten opponents with barrages of three pointers, backdoor layups, and relentless Balkan trashtalk.  Now, the 'Cats will have to find a new identity that will hopefully lead them to the promised land, when the name "Northwestern" appears on Selection Sunday without that ugly, disappointing State appendage-- I'm convinced that Northwestern State University is a guy with a telephone in an empty office in Natchitoches, Louisiana that finds a dozen dudes to put into the tournament as an ongoing prank on Northwestern's futile morass of basketball ineptitude.

THE BILL CARMODY ERA

It has been so long between BYCTOM posts that there is an unpublished draft pondering whether or not to fire Carmody.  And I had come down on it as a mistake.  This has nothing to do with basketball and everything to do with a concern about unbalancing the humors in Northwestern's coaching.  Bill Carmody served as a crucial balance to Pat Fitzgerald.  Carmody complemented Fitz's square-jawed,  crew-cut, fist-pump enthusiasm with his dour, sarcastic, miserablist sideline demeanor.  Fitz coaches the football team like it's a violent Boy Scout jamboree; Carmody comported himself like the basketball version of Sisyphus, forever trying to push a rock from the former Yugoslavia up the hill of the Big Ten basketball juggernaut.  What would happen if Northwestern hires another young, enthusiastic coach?  I don't want to alarm anyone, but I've done the research and it's entirely possible that the entire campus can be seized by a rash of spontaneous butt bumps, inability to function at any rate other than one game at a time, and the fist pumps, I can't even imagine the fist pumps.
 
A thoroughly scientific rendering of the Fitz/Carmody dynamic, 
which now may be seriously compromised

As much as Bill Carmody's teams have frustrated NU fans, they also reached unprecedented heights.  Even in dismal years, they provided memorable moments with his motley crew of overlooked locals and international findings.  Who can forget when Northwestern downed Iowa 40-39 in what was later prosecuted in the International Basketball Court as a crime against the sport, or that time the Wildcats trampled upon the hopes and dreams of Rick Rickert in the Big Ten Tournament, which sort of seemed like a big deal at the time for some reason?  Carmody led the 'Cats to numerous wins in dubious preseason tournaments held in unused Kumite arenas and three NITs, the only tournament that pauses for media timeouts and to allow shattered NCAA Tournament bubble teams to weep in the arms  of loved ones.  
 
A college basketball coach accepts an NIT bid

That progress was the essential Bill Carmody conundrum.  Fans braying for his head on a stick could seem unreasonably impatient with a historically woeful program, but it was also possible to wonder whether Carmody could ever get the 'Cats over the hump.  There is no sense in belaboring the debate.  Northwestern's administration has made its decision.  A new coach gets to stride into Welsh-Ryan arena and announce that he will be the one to break through the Tourney barrier, to compete in the Big Ten, and to be astonished that yes, that is actually where Northwestern plays its college basketball games.

NORTHWESTERN IS A FOOTBALL SCHOOL, HERE IS FOOTBALL STUFF

On a less depressing note, the 2013 Gator Bowl Champion Northwestern Wildcats return to the field to prepare for a season with dreams of Indianapolis in their eyes.  They'll be playing in the newly-named "West" division with all of the LEGENDS as well as Tim Beckman's Northwestern-hating Illinois team and one of Indiana or Purdue.  While many people are dancing upon the noble graves of the LEGENDS and LEADERS division names and the return to sane, cardinal direction-based titles, I'm extremely concerned.  Jim Delany has been defeated, which portends a new round of megalomaniacal pronouncements.  I expect that a cape-wearing Delany will mandate that Big Ten coaches stalk the sideline in full academic regalia in order to emphasize the conference's academic credentials, he will start replacing all positive adjectives in official press conferences with the words "legendary" or "leaderous," and he will purchase hour-long blocks of late-night programming on rival conferences' television networks that consist of him cackling on a golden throne and end with ominous threats of Big Ten expansion.
 
Scene from"You're Next, Missouri," set to air from 2-3 
AM on the SEC Network

Northwestern has struck a deal to make a return to Wrigley Field after the Cubs finish renovations.  The future Wrigley games will utterly fail if the renovations allow the full use of all available endzones.  I refuse to count any touchdown that is scored in the designated "bad endzone," and any player who breaks the plane should be followed around by a group of robed malcontents who will pester him constantly with spooky endzone chants for the duration of the season.  I've made my feelings clear to Northwestern and Cubs management by sending a literary letter that metaphorically describes the forbidden endzone as the former Soviet Union and scoring in it as taking my brain waves and using them to power a 30-foot mechanized Bukharin, so I'm sure they are taking the suggestions very seriously.

THIS IS MADNESS

As the nation full of college sports fans watch the empty, hollow, spectacle of March Madness, I'll be defiantly watching my reel-to-reel tapes of Tavaras Hardy, Jitim Young, Vedran Vukusic, Mohammed Hachad, Juice Thompson, John Shurna, and all of the rest of the Carmody-era Wildcats and pondering the future.  Unfortunately, the athletic department has refused to issue vague riddles and rhymes that will gradually reveal the identity of the new basketball coach, so there's nothing to do but sit tight and wait.  I look forward to cheering for Carmody wherever he ends up next, although I'd prefer not to see Northwestern victimized by backdoor cuts and the 1-3-1 zone defense anytime soon.  More importantly, I look forward to a basketball season less marred by suspensions and injuries that will see Northwestern return to the postseason, even if its not the glory of the Dance.  Perhaps we'll all meet back here next march, filled with insincere NIT braggadocio, ill thoughts about the Tulsa Golden Hurricane, and a new coach ready to launch Northwestern to the stratosphere of being the 68th-best basketball team in the nation.   

It Has Been Zero Years since Northwestern Last Won a Bowl Game

Sometimes, you win football games.  Sometimes, you lose football games.  And sometimes, you eradicate a bowl drought nearly old enough to qualify for social security by jubilantly tearing a stuffed monkey asunder in a locker room and then bringing its severed head to a press conference because Northwestern finally won a damn bowl game.

Not too many coaches deliver a sincere address about the hard work and tenacity of their football 
players with the remains of a monkey toy sitting on the table like the head of Alfredo Garcia

With the victory, Northwestern's seniors became the school's winningest class, the Wildcats claimed their third season with 10 victories, and Coach Fitz won his fiftieth game, more than any other head coach.  Emotions flew high after the win.  Fitz broke down; even his rote "our young men" speeches went from banal, rote coach-speak to inspiring rote coach-speak as you can hear the weight of Northwestern's abysmal football history lifted off of his shoulders.

THE HISTORY OF NORTHWESTERN BOWL LOSSES

The burden of history continued to weigh on Northwestern football fans with each passing year.  For much of the drought, bowls were relatively few and far between, and Northwestern  lost most of their games anyway.  The 1949 Rose Bowl seemed impossibly distant.  The last time Northwestern won a bowl game, Harry Truman demanded satisfaction from Hirohito in a musket duel and the United States was a breakaway dukedom in the Holy Roman Empire. 

Harrold of Truman, Archduke of Missouri, Pomerania, and 
Lower Silesia, undermined a strategic marriage of his 
arch-rival Dewey into a powerful Canadian Habsburgh family 
by revealing Dewey's ungainly way with the tea service.  He 
then posed for a portrait with an announcement prematurely 
announcing  Dewey's ruined nuptials filled with those f-looking 
s letters and then Northwestern won a bowl game

For a long time, Northwestern fans had been content merely to make it to the postseason, but the bowl losses had begun to pile up into an astounding collection of happenings.  From the perspective of today, it almost seemed like those bowl losses happened to make yesterday's win even sweeter; that is the only way I can describe what happened in the Sun Bowl, the Outback Bowl, and the Second Alamo Bowl without the use of hostile occult forces because the Lakefill was built on some sort of ancient Mer-Man burial ground with a very specific grudge against mid-tier bowl victories.

HEY THERE WAS AN ACTUAL GAME THAT HAPPENED

The game certainly played to the complete opposite of my expectations.  Northwestern's defense locked down Mississippi State's passing attack and the offense relied on timely passes to march down the field as they struggled with the Bulldog run defense.  The 'Cats certainly benefited from a tough day for Mississippi State quarterback Tyler Russell, who coughed up four interceptions, including an opening pick-six into the waiting arms of Quentin Williams.  He was not helped by the excellent play of the Wildcat secondary, who kept MSU's ace receiver Chad Bumphis in check with only 18 yards.  On offense, Trevor Siemian came off the bench to deliver an unexpected rushing touchdown and the play of the game on an elusive third-down completion to keep a drive alive.  The Bulldogs limited Colter and Mark, but Colter sealed the game with a 31-yard scramble to set up a Tyris Jones touchdown.  Freshman superback Dan Vitale continued his late-season surge by leading all receivers with 82 yards.  Mississippi State also helped out with several costly penalties, including a penalty for attempting to use 1.5 defenses, and another sideline interference penalty that was nowhere near as funny as the Beckman flag-clobber.

The game, though, remained in doubt.  The Bulldogs battled back from an early deficit and, at times, looked like they might take over the game on the ground.  When they got within a touchdown in the fourth quarter, Northwestern fans instinctively began to strap into their safety seats, put on their mittens, and have their man-servants prepare their purple-plated heart paddle machines.  To their credit, Mississippi State refused to give up even after a barrage of turnovers.  Fortunately, Northwestern rallied, added an insurance touchdown, and refused to budge in the final minutes, and I am just now nearly able to chew solid food.

To be honest, I did not know much about Mississippi State before the game.  Northwestern fans were introduced to the Starkville tradition of constantly ringing cowbells for several consecutive hours.  Far be it for me to disparage the tradition as a person who has encouraged the defense by yelling and making fist-claws.  I'm also thankful that Bulldog fans don't traditionally file their collective nails on third downs, make mewling late-night alley cat noises, or endlessly holler out Snow's "Informer" off the top of their heads for the duration of the game, which would result in a muddled staccato mishmash except on the words "informer" and "licky boom boom down."

Please don't give Purdue any ideas

As someone who could not make it to Jacksonville and watched the game on television, I can only add that the only thing that would have made this historic day for Northwestern more enjoyable would be more delightful banter between the race car guy and the inflatable knight.

THE GATOR BOWL IN CONTEXT

Northwestern's win was a lone bright spot in a disappointing day for the Big Ten.  Michigan and Nebraska lost close games to SEC foes, while Stanford prevailed over Wisconsin in the giant man running into each otherest game of the day.  Purdue disappeared in the wilderness.  The crappy Big Ten showing was certainly affected by Penn State and Ohio State's bowl bans, which led to unfavorable match-ups against unsporting athletic conferences that refused to suspend two of their top-ranked schools from bowl play out of gentlemanly honor. 

Bowl season is reserved for ridiculous inter-conference opprobrium that affects rooting interests.  Though Northwestern took care of business against an SEC opponent, New Year's Day brought grim tidings to the Big Ten as a whole.  Michigan State was the only other Big Ten team to win a bowl game what can only be described as satisfying reverse choke that helped undo some of the heartbreak from the past season.  The rest of the conference has caused a whole lot of internet consternation about the Big Ten's inferiority to other conferences, particularly by swaggering SEC partisans.

The conference argument is specious and ridiculous, born out of the inherent politicking inherent in college football's arbitrary ranking system.  While the Big Ten certainly had a down year, its top teams did not seem overwhelmingly over-matched in their games.  More importantly, it is impossible to calculate the strength of the ever-growing Big Ten; teams playing Big Ten opponents cannot be entirely sure that they will not somehow end the game in the Big Ten in a new division called the Lions or the Land Barons or Los Locos Kick Your Balls into Outer Space.    
 
Scientific simulation of Conference Realignment

Nonsensical conference arguments also mean that we're supposed to support our fellow Big Ten teams in bowls, even though I have spent the last several months whipping myself into a fury of pointless sports hatred directed against their programs.  No conference argument was going to deny me the hollow satisfaction of Michigan getting Roy Roundtreed or Nebraska coming up short.  How am I supposed to cope with bowl season without feasting on their fans' mild disappointment?

IN CASE YOU FORGOT, NORTHWESTERN WON THE GATOR BOWL

I honestly have no idea what else to say about this happy moment in Northwestern bowl game history.  I'm thrilled for Coach Fitz and the players, who turned around a season many of us thought would be a disappointment into one of the most gratifying in the history of the program.  Watching Northwestern's years of impossibly heartbreaking bowl losses are a reminder that a single game is not an indictment of a team's character, but the result of the unpredictable bouncing of an oblong ball and (in my theory), the curse of a vengeful group of supernatural mermen.  Even so, it is much more fun when the team wins and then parades around a stuffed monkey carcass.  Happy new year, Wildcat fans.  Let's all hope the basketball team does well enough to make us suffer through another Selection Sunday. 

Bowl Game Part V

It's nearly 2013, which means that Northwestern fans have an opportunity to recover from their New Years' revels, roll out of bed, scrape the vomit from their hair and clothing and extremities, and watch the Wildcats take on Mississippi State in the Taxslayer.com Gator Bowl.

This year's postseason had less intrigue than other mid-tier bowl selections.  This is a shame, because I really enjoy baselessly speculating about the machinations of bowl executives planning the football team's fate in a walnut-lined state room where national bowl representatives and corporate sponsors meet to wheel, deal, and bet on brutal animal-baiting tournaments away from the prying eyes of polite society. 

Bowl officials take a break after a grueling morning filibuster from the Beef 
O'Brady's people before a leisurely afternoon picking the Belk Bowl matchups 
and then hunting the ultimate prey: man

Every year, someone will mock the proliferation of crappy bowl games, bemoaning their necessity, mocking their increasingly ridiculous corporate affiliations, and deriding them as all but meaningless in the standings.  These are ridiculous accusations.  Bowl games are more college football and allow you to turn on your television at 4:30 on a weekday and be pleasantly surprised by a game that usually includes one potential Future Big Ten team.  Corporate names will serve as a useful footnote in history books that want to explain how a goofy-looking puppet served as the business plan of several late-90s internet enterprises that were rich enough to purchase naming rights to a crappy bowl game.  And no fan base in the history of crappy, also-ran bowl games wants to win the Gator Bowl this year as much as fans of Northwestern.

The 2012 football season has seen the Big Ten devolve into a joke, its best team undone by the promise of free tattoos,  its reverse Manifest Destiny expansion eastwards into an ever-bigger Ten, its school-grabbing setting off another wave of conference realignment.  None of this matters to Northwestern, losers of nine bowl games since 1949.  While this season has been a pleasant surprise, a bowl win could topple the last barrier standing between Northwestern's awful football history and current football decentness.

NOW WE HAVE A TOP HAT HO HO HO

The last game of the 2012 season was more than an intrastate struggle between a surging Northwestern team and an Illini team down on its luck.  It was a reckoning.  The Illini had been in possession of the Hat for two unbearable years.  Northwestern fans suffering from a nervous disorder commonly referred to as "hat fever" screamed about hats in their sleep, removed all hats from orange-wearing persons in their vicinity, and even constructed crude hats out of paper in order to cope.

Those affected with hat fever may take solace in scholarly Lincoln research or by 
covering their walls in homemade Lincoln paraphernalia, such as the Lincoln 
constructed by University President Morton Schapiro

In the first half, the Illini startled the Wildcats by moving the ball with ease.  It seemed as though Tim Beckman's anti-Northwestern saber-rattling had lit a fire under them, and that is not a mixed metaphor because I am implying that the saber could be rattled against a stone, creating a spark that could ignite some kindling beneath the Illinois players, which is a very common motivational tactic at the highest levels of competitive football.  Northwestern fans braced for another harrowing game coming down to the final seconds.

That did not happen.  The game got out of hand in the second half.  Illini drives stalled and extended Northwestern possessions with penalties, including two on Coach Beckman himself for sideline interference.  The video of one of the penalties involved the official chasing the play along the sideline, running over Beckman, and, without a moment's hesitation, throwing a flag down on his prone body to add insult to injury.  That may not even be the strangest Beckman sideline moment this season; he was reprimanded by the NCAA earlier for surreptitiously dippin'.  I don't blame Beckman for that.  College football coaching is a stressful job, and coaches should be free able to use all of the smokes, chaw, snuff, and opium products they desire during the course of a football game besides their traditional recourse to ass-slapping and screaming at someone without the slightest modicum of human dignity.

No one should be allowed to get this angry without having immediate access to 
chewable barbiturates or a horde of hearty fellows sworn to medieval vengeance 
upon an unsavory duke

The 50-14 rout was one of the most lopsided wins in Northwestern history against a Big Ten foe.  By the end, Fitzgerald seemed more concerned that all of the seniors got a chance to play, even if that meant putting Bo Cisek in at running back to achieve some measure of Ditkaness.  The big win was enough to put Northwestern back into the polls at #20.  More importantly, it meant that The Hat has returned to its home in Evanston, where it will hopefully remain as Beckman fumes and comes up with more ways to comically denigrate Northwestern football.

Here's something to denigrate: somebody give me the name of the person 
responsible for making a hat trophy attached to a base, denying all of us in 
attendance the opportunity to see various Northwestern players parading around 
Ryan Field while wearing the trophy as a hat while haranguing anyone in the 
Illinois football organization named Douglas

OFFICIAL BYCTOM BOWL PREVIEW

Mississippi State, like Northwestern, started the season on a tear.  They began 7-0 before the realities of life in the SEC West led them into a brutal three game stretch against Alabama, LSU, and the Johnny Football Men.  They managed only one more win the rest of the season, against a reeling Arkansas team in its death throes of the John L. Smith era.  Nevertheless, the Bulldogs, like every Northwestern opponent in the history of Northwestern football, see the Gator Bowl as a winnable game and a way to end their season on a high note.

The Bulldogs boast two of the top cornerbacks in the country in Johnthan Banks and Darius Slay.  Between the involvement of Taxslayer.com and Darius Slay, this will be the slayingest bowl game in the country, especially if Slayer can play the halftime show that consists of them acting out the dozens of crappy movies and TV episodes entitled "Slay Ride."

Slayer members have the choice to act out a T.J. Hooker episode described 
on IMBD as: "Stacy realizes a couple who foiled a drug raid are a team of 
robbers" or a Kojak episode with a plot summary that contains the sentence 
"Discovering that a young Army wife had fallen from a roof at an earlier 
convention (which they had attended) leads Kojak to her call girl sister."

Fortunately for Northwestern, the Wildcats no longer throw the ball, so Slay and Banks will be spending most of their time trying to tackle Mark or Colter.  The Bulldogs do have a terrifying wide receiver in Chad Bumphis, and, while the 'Cats have shown some improvement in pass defense, they are still vulnerable to the big play.  Mississippi State is less terrifying on the ground, where it averages about 140 yards per game, good for 88th in the country.  Conventional wisdom would suggest that Northwestern's best chance for a victory will involve stymieing Bumphis and successfully keeping it on the ground and away from their rapacious defensive backs.  But because this is Northwestern, I predict that the best way to win this game is to go out to a significant first half lead, collapse entirely in the second half, and allow the Bulldogs to get within 45 seconds of winning the game but hope that the final hail mary falls three centimeters short of Bumphis's grasp in the endzone as unconscious Wildcat fans plummet down the stairwells at EverBank field because their nervous systems can no longer bear the strain except for the fat-cat alumni who have had fainting couches installed in their private skyboxes.

AND I AIN'T GOT A DURN THING AGAINST PA

Northwestern may not be playing a bowl game in the state of Texas, but that does not make the early twentieth century reign of the Fergusons any less fascinating, as described in Randolph Campbell's Gone to Texas and James L. Haley's Passionate Nation.  In 1914, an obscure banker named James E.Ferguson came, essentially, out of nowhere during the Democratic gubernatorial primary.   Like many Southern states, Texas was governed by one party.  The fractious Democratic Primary in most elections determined the winner of the election, and was therefore more spirited and hard-fought than the general election. 

The major issue in 1914 was prohibition, and Ferguson's opponent, Thomas Ball, was an ardent prohibitionist.  Ball, however, belonged to a country club that served drink, and, while he claimed he did not imbibe, his membership created a clear "I did not inhale" situation in 1914 Texas terms.  Ferguson ignored prohibition and declared that he would treat any legislation for or against prohibition the same folksy way: "I will strike it where the chicken got the axe," he proclaimed, although the historical record is less clear about whether or not he hooked his thumbs into his suspenders.

Ferguson was a populist candidate, and "Farmer Jim" ran on a platform promising rent relief to tenant farmers.  He was an expert at hurling invective at his opposition, mustering every Southern blowhard trick in the book to go after Ball.  When President Woodrow Wilson endorsed Ball, Ferguson portrayed it as Yankee meddling, invoking the "sacred principles for which the gallant Confederate soldiers fought and bled on so many Southern battlefields," which is the rhetorical equivalent of dressing as a giant thumb and hooking yourself to a 30-foot wall-mounted suspender.  He won the nomination and the general election.
 
Texas Governor James E. "Farmer Jim" "Pa" Ferguson 
grafted his hands onto state monies as effectively as 
he cultivated home-spun nicknames

Ferguson's first term had some successes.  He passed a bill to lower and fix tenant rents for farmers (although it was eventually ruled unconstitutional), formed a state highway commission, and passed a bill for compulsory education.  Soon, he began interfering with school administration, high-handedly ousting the president of Prairie View Normal and Industrial College.  Edward Blackshear had drawn the ire of Ferguson as a supporter of Ball and as an African American academic whose rise to prominence contrasted with Ferguson's virulent white supremacy.  Ferguson then turned to the University of Texas.  He threw his weight around, attempted to remove the president, demanded the firing of several faculty members whom he believed had crossed him, and signed an official proclamation demanding the trustees present him with their lunch money at the capitol every afternoon. 

The fight with the university made him powerful enemies, who quickly latched onto allegations of corruption.  Ferguson moved more than a hundred thousand dollars worth of state funds into his own private accounts and mysterious loans of dubious origin floated into his coffers.  He was indicted, impeached, and convicted of fraud and embezzlement and barred from state office.  But a simple conviction of fraud would not keep Ferguson out of politics.

In 1924, Miriam A. Ferguson appeared on the ballot.  James Ferguson had opposed women's suffrage; now his wife ran for governor with the thinly-veiled understanding that newly-dubbed "Ma" Ferguson came as a package with "Pa."  Running under the slogan "Me for Ma, and I ain't got a durn thing against Pa," the Fergusons swept back into power on a platform opposing the rising influence of the Ku Klux Klan.  Miriam Ferguson became the first woman elected as a state governor, but "Pa" clearly pulled the strings.  The impeachment and conviction had not slowed down Fergusons' gleeful corruption; they began selling pardons to anyone willing to pay the vastly inflated price of Ferguson livestock and meted out state contracts to those willing to pay for expensive advertising space in their newspaper. 

The Fergusons on the campaign trail striking a blow for equal rights 
for women in terms of graft and state-wide corruption

A reformer swept out the Fergusons in the next term, but they reappeared during the Depression.  Ma Ferguson returned to Austin in 1932, just in time for them to control the distribution of New Deal federal relief funds.  The Fergusons throughout remained dedicated to their principles of lining their pockets, attacking people with pointed folksiness, and, disparaging academics as "mutton headed."

LET US FINALLY WIN A BOWL GAME FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING

The Wildcats have had a surprisingly successful season mixed with gut-wrenching disappointment and ulcer-forming excitement.  These are also ways to describe Northwestern's bowl appearances, as they have continued to come up just short for several frustrating years.  This year, the 'Cats seem primed for another close game against an evenly-matched squad.  They will almost certainly try to kill you, me, and our friends and loved ones because that is how Northwestern plays football this year except against Illinois and FCS teams.  There's nothing more to be written that has not already been written or personified in plush monkey toy form about the unfortunate bowl victory drought of more than 60 years.  Many fans may not care whether or not their team wins their crappy bowl game.  I intend to celebrate the only way I know how: by renting a gigantic alligator costume with a GATOR BOWL CHAMPION sash and crown and proclaim myself King of the Alligators on the steps of City Hall.    

A Stovepipe Showdown

It took all season, but Northwestern finally encountered a team more practiced in the art of the fourth-quarter fade.  Michigan State and Northwestern played a fraught battle, with both teams desperately keeping the jaws of victory at bay until finally the Spartans gave into their self-destructive tendencies and allowed Northwestern to hang on for their eighth win of the season.

The Wildcats won the Heston Bowl to determine which fanbase would 
end up walking out of the stadium cackling with demented incredulity

Ibrahim Campbell had a phenomenal game, as he was seemingly around every big play on defense.  Freshman Superback Dan Vitale rumbled around, over, and through hapless defenders.  Michigan State had the opportunity to tie, but came up short.  I can't imagine that most State fans even flinched.  Their team has lost every possible break, been victimized by every questionable call (including a generous pass interference that helped the 'Cats seal the game), and watched week in and week out as the lead has slipped from their grasp.  Now, they have to go to Minnesota to try to qualify for some bowl that no one wants to go to.   To call the Spartans snake-bitten at this point is a gross understatement; their football team has been bitten, swallowed, and partially digested by the type of snake that stalks Ice Cube or battles a fake-looking computer generated octopus for what we can assume is some reason.

Meanwhile, the Wildcats turn to a far graver matter than tying their best record of Pat Fitzgerald's tenure and improving their bowl position.  The Illini are coming bearing the Hat and now is the time to demand its return to rightful place on all of our metaphorical heads.

HAT WEEK IS UPON US

When Tim Beckman took the job at Illinois, he made a point to stoke the flames of college football's least intense rivalry.  "You'll never see me wearing purple," Beckman said, throttling a plush Willie the Wildcat doll.  He claimed that he would only refer to Northwestern as "that school up north," baffling his players who gathered and brainstormed dozens of Big Ten, MAC, FCS, and Canadian schools before remembering that Northwestern existed.  With the exception of the time that Northwestern lost more than thirty conesecutive games and cemented its place as the worst major-conference program in the history of college football and then the fans tore down the goalposts in mock celebration, Tim Beckman's War on Northwestern is the funniest thing that has ever happened to Northwestern football.

I have no idea how to react to Beckman.  Apparently no one told him how the Big Ten works.  Teams generally deign to play Northwestern and assume an automatic win.  Most fans  condescendingly cheer for the Wildcats in good years like you would for a toddler that has managed to successfully remain quiet for upwards of 15 minutes.  Northwestern has been more good than bad for the past dozen years, but no team other than the conference's most wretched programs expects to lose to them.  Every October road game is Homecoming, as Northwestern is inevitably trotted out like a Carl Denham ape show for win-starved alumni. 

Denham expected to make millions with his best-selling Broadway revue
entitled "Take a Look at This Gigantic Ape, People"

Do any Illini fans actually care about beating Northwestern more than Michigan or Ohio State or Wisconsin?  Do any Illini fans sit around talking about their program's big wins over Northwestern?  Will any Illini fan take any solace in a win on Saturday to salvage their miserable season because it was against the Wildcats and not Indiana or Purdue or Minnesota?  Would any deranged Illini fan attempt to destroy The Rock with rock poison and then call into a Big Ten radio show to confess to his deeds because he is so inflamed with hatred for Northwestern and also using football as an outlet to explore the darkest realms of his psyche?

GIVE US OUR HAT BACK, BECK MAN

Despite the Illini's rather disastrous attempts at playing Big Ten football, Pat Fitzgerald is not taking the game lightly.  Do you think that Fitz mentioned throwing records out for the rivalry game?  “You can throw the records out,” Fitzgerald said to the surprise of no one. “You can throw everything out when you get into rivalry games."  He then unleashed a fleet of dump trucks that carted off every desk, chair, Bednarik trophy, paperclip, and inspirational fist-pumping manual from the Athletic Office and began attempting to locate the nearest cliff.

This space reserved for hat

For those of you not up on your American history, the hat trophy comes from an obscure American hat enthusiast named Abraham Lincoln, whose life is finally being brought to the attention of the American people through a major motion picture.  Lincoln, who won the presidency based on his length, wingspan, and executive upside, battled a brief period of unpopularity in the South.  The Hat is the third iteration of the Northwestern-Illinois rivalry trophy, and the first that has to do with presidential rather than stereotypical Native American iconography.  It is a good thing that Lincoln came from Illinois and not some shitty president.  Imagine if the two programs battled for Chester A. Arthur's muttonchops, William Henry Harrison's overcoat, or Franklin Pierce's bo staff.

Pierce defeated Winfield Scott in the 1852 presidential election, somehow pulling together a 
campaign that was able to beat a man nicknamed "Old Fuss and Feathers."  Pierce's campaign 
team put together the winning slogan "We pierced you in 1848, we shall Pierce you in 1852"
because nineteenth-century voters In 1856, Congress abolished the Giant Bird Race as a cornerstone 
of national election campaigns.  

Beckman faces a tough test in his rookie Hat Week.  Pat Fitzgerald has had several years to hone his inspirational Lincoln quotes and to pace the locker room in full nineteenth-century regalia to fire up the 'Cats.  Beckman may find Ron Zook's fake beard in a utility closet.  I am, of course, assuming that both football coaches conduct their pre-game rituals while dressed as Abraham Lincoln, because otherwise what is the point?  I normally don't condone fan movements to fire a coach, but if Beckman is not taunting the Wildcat sideline by wearing a novelty stovepipe hat for the duration of the game, he deserves to have someone register firehatlesstimebeckman.com, because that is unforgivable.

Meanwhile, in Evanston, this game is about more than just a hat: it is about revenge.  The Illini ran over the Wildcats in Wrigley Field.  Then, last year, vowel-hoarding quarterback Nathan Scheelhaase and receiver A.J. Jenkins lit up the Northwestern secondary en route to a gut-wrenching comeback win.  After beating Indiana, they then lost every single game on their schedule except for the Kraft Fight Hunger Bowl.  The Hat has not been in Evanston for two long years, years that Pat Fitzgerald has spent plotting an elaborate scheme of revenge so complex and diabolical that it defies description-- it involves look-alikes, the heir to the throne of Monaco, a carriage swap on the banks of the Elba, and an elaborate cipher that can be solved only by manipulating a suit of armor at the Art Institute to mimic a fist-pump, but largely it involves scoring at least one more point than the fighting Illini in Saturday's football game.

CLOSING THE SEASON

I began the season with modest expectations.  Instead, the Wildcats are 8-3, poised to go to a bowl game, and arguably something like nine combined minutes from an undefeated season and a berth in the Big Ten Championship game.  Though the losses have been the result of disappointing come-backs, the Wildcats have been good enough to win every game on their schedule.  This season has seen the return of the running game led by Venric Mark and Kain Colter, and defensive standouts Chi Chi Ariguzo, Ibrahim Campbell, Tyler Scott, and David Nwabusie. 

There is still one thing missing, though, and that is The Hat.  Each win has been gratifying this season, but none has come with a ridiculous trophy and bragging rights in a comically tepid rivalry.  Nothing is more gratifying than an Illini coach who seems determined to imbue this rivalry with an actual amount of football hate and so BYCTOM salutes you, Tim Beckman, for burning your purple clothes with the zeal of Professor Plum hastily destroying the evidence, for denigrating Northwestern by replacing its name with a ludicrous directional euphemism, for hanging a "No Northwestern" sign in the Illini locker room, for desperately trying to make something out of this game other than a precious hat mounted to a base.  And in the spirit of this renewed rivalry, I hope the Wildcats run the Illini out of the stadium and down I-57, with no win, no hat, and embittered to demand vengeance for next year and for all eternity.

There are No Fists Pumping in Mudvanston

Good gravy, it happened again.  Northwestern fans had already steeled ourselves for the inevitable fourth-quarter comeback; those are old hat by now, and we face them with the steely resolve of a circus freak show man preparing to receive an cannonball to the solar plexus or the late Crocodile Hunter riling up a poisonous reptile and letting it lunge its fangs near his unprotected khaki crotch.

Another day at the office for Frank "Cannonball" Richards.  According to his 
Wikipedia page, "Richards began by letting people (including heavyweight 
champion Jack Dempsey) punch him in the gut. He then progressed to letting 
people jump on his belly, being struck by a two-by-four, being struck by a 
sledgehammer, and finally being shot by a 104-lb. (47 kg) cannonball from a 
spring-loaded 12 ft. (4 m) cannon," and then presumably finished the day by 
watching Northwestern try to hold a lead in the fourth quarter.

All Northwestern had to do to walk out of the Enormous House with a rare victory was to hold on for less than 20 seconds and prevent the ball from floating 30 yards in the air, getting batted by the defender, and having Roy Roundtree somehow pluck it out of the air with one hand while falling to the turf.  College football is an engine of cruelty.

THE RAMIFICATIONS OF A LOSS

Another close loss means for agony for Northwestern fans, who have witnessed the third frustrating collapse of the season.  The sour ending overshadowed a stellar offensive performance against a tough defense.  The offensive line opened holes for Mark, Colter zipped around befuddled Michigan defenders who actually expected him to occasionally pass, and Siemian came in led an impressive drive at the end of the half.  Even Demetrius Dugar, who had a tough game, managed to redeem himself with a crucial late-game interception.

What does the loss mean?  The Wildcats were unlikely to compete for the divisional crown; that dream died as Penn State and Nebraska receivers skipped merrily along through the Northwestern secondary in the dreaded fourth quarter.  It affects what bowl they go to, although one Pizza City is as good as another in my book, and the 'Cats will still be at the mercy of rapacious and unaccountable bowl representatives who tend to favor teams with more than four dozen alumni.  The most tragic circumstance of the defeat was missing the opportunity to ruin the afternoon for a large number of Michigan fans, which is one of the most noble goals for Big Ten Teams to aspire to.

The lack of stakes salves the sting a bit.  A Northwestern fan for the past dozen years has already seen the Wildcats lose a shot at the Rose Bowl in a barren Iowan hellscape, miss a bowl game after inciting the rage of Timmy Chang by throwing him at a sideline bench, miss the NCAA basketball tournament in the most heart-rending way possible, and literally every single thing that has happened to Northwestern in a bowl game since the dawning of the new millennium.  This includes two overtime losses, allowing Bowling Green to come back, and surrendering a 22-0 first-quarter lead which also included giving up two onside kick returns to the same fucking guy because the whole blowing a 22 point lead thing wasn't enough and it would have been too much for the game to end with 25 laterals or a hastily-added clause to the NCAA rulebook that prevents Northwestern from playing offense or a blimp attack or some sort of disembodied hand rising up from the turf at Sun Bowl Stadium and sacking Brett Basanez then doing some sort of elaborate sack dance with its claws or fingers.
 
The disembodied sacking hand may be similar to the 
one adorning Jim Varney's head in this cinema classic.  
The fact that the DVD cover has a picture of Varney 
dressed as Ernest as the main selling point is probably 
the most entertaining thing about this movie

On the other hand, cheer up, Gloom Beams!  The Northwestern University Wildcat Football team is 7-3, is definitely going to a bowl game, and still has a shot at nine wins.  We still get to watch Colter and Mark run faster than other people while Pat Fitzgerald punches the legions of invisible antagonists that torment him on the sidelines.  Maybe we won't get Brian Griese this week.  Let us talk ourselves off the ledge before getting onto another one as the 'Cats can potentially cling to another shrinking lead against the only team in the Big Ten more committed to destroying the lives of its benighted fanbase.

SPARTY?  YES!

When I saw Northwestern clinging grimly to a lead with 18 seconds left, my mind immediately flashed back to the 2001 Northwestern-Michigan State game, one of the most insane endings to a college football game I've ever seen.  For the sake of those unfamiliar with Northwestern football lore and people google image searching for pictures of Jim Varney in both Ernest and non-Ernest iterations, this is what happened: Northwestern scored a go-ahead touchdown in the final minute to go up four.  With 29 seconds on the clock, Northwestern kicked off, determined to hold off  any last-minute shenanigans from the Spartan offense.  They didn't get the chance.  Herb Haygood housed the kickoff, then went into the stands and punched every Northwestern fan in the gut.  But State got a celebration penalty and the 'Cats blocked the extra point to keep the lead to two.  And with sixteen seconds left, the Wildcats put the ball in the hands of folk legend Zak Kustok.

Kustok, a nine-foot colossus who had come to Northwestern on a chariot pulled by bears, called for the ball.  He took off to the right, setting off minor tremors, then cocked his arm and launched the ball to John Schwiegert, who somehow managed to hold on despite the heat from the friction of a Kustok heave traveling through Earth's atmosphere.  They set up a David Wasielewski field goal, and he nailed it for a 25-24 win. 

The most improbable thing about that game is that the major people involved 
were named Herb Haygood, Zak Kustok, John Schwiegert, and David Wasielewski, 
an unparalleled confluence of Midwestern football names

Michigan State hosts Northwestern in an attempt to salvage the wreckage of its season.  Pundits had picked the Spartans as a Big Ten title contender; they are currently struggling to become bowl eligible.  Like Northwestern, Michigan State seems to have received a grant from the American Heart Institute to try to induce cardiac arrest in anyone who witnesses its grim works.  With the exception of a shellacking at the hands of the Fighting Irish, who are (cringe) undefeated BCS title contenders, the Spartans have lost every game in agonizing fashion by less than 5 points. These include a one-point loss to Ohio State, an overtime loss to the hapless Hawkeyes, and another collapse gifted to probable division champions Nebraska.

Somebody has to win this game.  Northwestern is eager to move past last week's loss and put away a Big Ten opponent.  Michigan State desperately needs a victory to qualify for a humiliating consolation bowl berth in Pizza City, Potato Town, or the Bowl Filled with Bitter Tears.  I predict that the fourth quarter will consist of a series of Alphonse and Gaston-style attempts to give the game to the other team, which will end when the ball is fumbled for 25 consecutive minutes from endzone to endzone with no one able to fall on it during the dying minutes of the 12th overtime period and the fans inside form rival tribes and begin organizing raids on the enemy-controlled popcorn and elephant-ear infrastructure.
 
A simulation of the ending of the Northwestern-Michigan State game

THE IRON DUKE

In 1952, the 18th Duke of Alburquerque achieved his dream of racing in Britain's Grand National Steeplechase.  His horse threw him and he broke a vertebrae.  Undaunted, he saddled up again in 1963, and again fell from his horse.  The Duke endured.  He did not seem to let what was either a criminally inadequate measure of horsemanship or possibly an uncanny ability to communicate hateful insults to horses that caused them to violently toss him from their back from stopping him.  His compatriots called him the "Iron Duke" for his propensity to endure equine injury, which is better than the other Spanish Iron Duke, who earned his nickname by acting like a ruthless Habsburg ogre in the Low Countries during the sixteenth century.  In 1976, the British steeplechase people finally barred him from competition because a bunch of horses trampled him, broke many of his bones, and rendered him comatose.    

The Duke of Alburquerque was an impressive Spanish pedigree.  Numerous Dukes had served as Viceroys of New Spain in the seventeenth century.


This was all a thinly-described excuse to post this picture 
of the Eighth Duke of Alburquerque because that mustache 
is not physically possible.  It may also interest you to 
learn that someone tried to assassinate him with a sword 
because that kind of facial hair increases the risk of 
assassination by swashbuckling by 80%

 WHY DO THEY HAVE TO PLAY IN THAT STUPID GLOVE STATE AGAIN

The Wildcats have to travel to Michigan again for another tough road game.  The Spartans may have drifted from their title hopes, but they still have a dangerous defense and Le'Veon Bell.  They also have nothing to lose.  Northwestern could be their most impressive win since the opener against Boise State.  Northwestern wants to bank another win before the critical showdown to restore The Hat to its rightful scalp.  Both teams are attempting to emulate the Iron Duke by mounting their horses, throwing caution to the wind, and causing their fans grievous internal injuries as they attempt to weather another 60 minutes of Big Ten LEGENDS Division action.  I couldn't possibly be more excited and also I am vomiting internal organs.

Big Ten Update: The Division Names Are Still Risible

Northwestern has gotten to 7-2 on the year with a convincing victory over Iowa.  The win was never in doubt, or at least it was in slightly less doubt than usual, as the Hawkeyes ran out of time to overcome the Wildcats.  The 'Cats are still in contention for the divisional title, although Nebraska is driving the LEGENDS DIVISION bus.

This week, the Wildcats must go to the Big House to face a Michigan team equally determined to grab a berth to Indianapolis.  Northwestern has a chance to prove that it can finish a big game and live up to its #24 ranking, climb up that arbitrary bowl rank ladder, and, most importantly, ruin a Michigan home game. There are stakes!

They may take our ranking, they may take our path to the Big Ten 
Championship Game, but they will never take our CERTAIN BERTH IN A 
MID-TIER BOWL GAAAAAAAMMMMMME

With bowl-eligibility secured, with the Big Ten reduced to a pitiable rump conference, with the opportunity to win more games than any team in the Walker-Fitz era, it seems vaguely possible to reach for greater goals.  Northwestern has not only won enough games to make it to Pizza City, this may be the year to smash its gates, sap through its outer defenses, depose the government, seize the Pizza City treasury, and raise the Fitz Fist banner over the central Pizza City Plaza this is all an elaborate metaphor for winning a shitty bowl game by the way.

THE FOOT CLAN

Northwestern beat Iowa with another dominant performance on the ground.  Colter led the way with 166 yards on the ground and Mark followed with 162.  With three games to go, Mark has already rushed for 1,000 yards this season; he's the first Wildcat to do that since Tyrell Sutton.  Once again, the Northwestern passing attack remained a delightful tribute to the the interwar period, with 80 total yards.  The coaches showed that they are willing to let Colter air it out when defenses move in against the run.  One of his attempts was overthrown and intercepted, but the other landed perfectly for a 47-yard bomb to Christian Jones.  Colter and Mark should attract enough attention to get single coverage on Northwestern's vaunted group of receivers, and it's heartening to see some strikes downfield.  Otherwise, Fitz may see industrial action from the receivers, who will protest the option and begin burning blocking sleds.

Northwestern receivers have begun to subtly call for more passes.

The defense once again held firm even as Iowa dominated the time of possession.  They were aided in the fourth quarter when the Iowa coaches implemented a 25-minute offense where the Hawkeyes steadily meandered down the field with a variety of short passes, runs, and gentlemanly refusals to stop the clock.  Greg Davis seems to have borrowed the late-game plan of attack from Field Marshal Douglas Haig.

The win has made it five of the last seven for Northwestern in this burgeoning rivalry series with Iowa, but this one was not as frustrating for Iowa fans.  Iowa is having a down year, and losses to Iowa State and Central Michigan have taken the air from the Hawkeye sails and the proverbial ligaments from the Iowa running backs.  Iowa fans are only apoplectic when Northwestern unexpectedly ruins their season with an improbable last-minute victory and they get to leave Evanston like so many vanquished Mings the Merciless.  On the rare occasion when Northwestern has the better team on paper, Iowa fans relish the opportunity to turn the tables and leave a Northwestern season in shambles, like the disastrous 2000 game, which prevented a trip to Pasadena.

The Northwestern-Iowa rivalry only seems to have teeth when one of the teams has something at stake, like a trophy shaped like a hat.  The Illinois-Northwestern game is an inconsequential nothing, but I cannot stand to see the hat in Champaign-Urbana, and I hope Tim Beckman's office appreciates the numerous telegrams I send every day telling him that he is in for a cold, hatless winter.
 
Pat Fitzgerald seizes Bettendorf, Iowa, one of the Quad cities, as his prize for 
the annual Iowa-Northwestern football contest.  He then sacked Davenport, 
declaring "BYCTOM has one too many jokes about Pat Fitzgerald sacking 
cities this week"

MICHIGAN PEOPLE

Northwestern enters the game against Michigan in the midst of a quarterback mystery.  Denard Robinson is on the mend from an injured hand and his status is up in the air.  The quarterback depth behind backup Devin Gardener is uncertain.  Brady Hoke has not ruled out the possibility of entering the game at quarterback himself, while pretending to be a middle-aged walk-on named Harrison van Arbor IV and wearing a ridiculous leather helmet getup that would be anachronistic even for a man in his 50s.  Kain Colter may also suit up for the Wolverines as part of his widening positional purview; he'd be taking on the little-known "permanent quarterback" position from the NCAA handbook that allows for one guy to be quarterback all of the time, allows the replacement of endzone pylons with windbreakers, and permits games in the snow to degenerate into massive neighborhood snowball fights until one guy takes it way too seriously and hurts someone.

Michigan will be another strong test for Northwestern.  They have a tough defense and McCall will have to find a way to move the ball in the air.  Denard Robinson, if he plays, is an absolute nightmare for a defense, and Gardner had a lot of success against Minnesota.  On the other hand, Northwestern has not been soundly defeated yet.  The Wildcats led into the fourth quarter in both losses before yielding the lead in slow motion to horrified purple-clad onlookers.

WHY INDIANAPOLIS/WHY NOT INDIANAPOLIS?

The game is a must-win for both teams to have any chance at the Big Ten Championship and face some refugee from the LEADERS DIVISION.  This is because the two best LEADERS teams are ineligible for post-season play.  The Indiana Hoosiers, who have overtaken Northwestern as the standard-bearers of Big Ten cellar-dwelling wretchedness, have an outside shot at Indianapolis.  Big Ten fans are upset that the suspension of  two big programs will deny a more worthy team a shot at the championship.  Fitz has suggested that a selection committee should select a more worthy opponent for the LEGENDS champion if the LEADERS cannot supply a team with a winning record.

I think that Big Ten fans should embrace the absurdity.  This is what happens when you sign up for divisions: there is always the possibility that two powerhouse teams will be suspended from bowl play because of a horrifying administrative cover-up of unthinkable crimes and/or college students selling their pants, and then some crappy team gets to play in the championship game.  Also, nothing about the Big Ten Championship game can be more ridiculous than the fact that the two divisions are named "LEGENDS" and "LEADERS" because that forces any story about the Big Ten to sound like it is being written about a team-building exercise at a Mussolini corporate retreat.
 
Mussolini team building games involve brainstorming targets for invasion, 
free-associating cries for vengeance, marching on Rome, and scowling

The Big Ten is not very good at football this year.  The bowl ban circumstances are aberrant.  Let us all hope that Indiana can shock the midwest and sneak into the Big Ten Championship and bring Hoosiermania to Indianapolis.

A SEXUAL CONGRESS

In 1814, European forces had managed to tuck Napoleon away safely on Elba and tried to restore Europe to some sort of order.  Europe's most distinguished diplomats, kings, spies, and intriguers met in Vienna to determine the fate of Poland, Saxony, and even the continued existence of the slave trade.  They also met to drink, waltz, and carry on affairs.
 
The "Dancing Congress."  On the far left is Talleyrand, the French minister who 
had collaborated with Napoleon and then turned on him.  He became an expert 
at acquiring derisive nicknames: Baron Hardenburg referred to him as "Mr. Club 
Foot" and Napoleon called him "shit in silk stockings." 

David King's Vienna 1814: How the Conquerors of Napoleon Made Love, War, and Peace at the Congress of Vienna, understands that it is not enough to explain the vexing problems of statecraft, but also necessary to pause and describe the absurdly lavish festivals that accompanied the Congress.  And with the delegations, came the hangers-on: "rogues, charlatans, courtesans, actors, and gamblers" as well as puppeteers, mechanical reproductions of Napoleonic battles, and a dubious shark act. 
 
Adam Zamoyski argues in his also-excellent Rites of Peace that the presence of so much royalty in 
Vienna fatally humanized the ridiculous aristocrats.  "The King of Würtemberg," Zamyoski explains, 
"had such a gross appearance, with his red snout and the cascading folds of his stomach, that one 
employee of the imperial household thought he had seen a pig drive by in one of the court carriages."  
Obviously, the court painter had done Friedrich a favor in the above painting; I've included a 
simulation of his likely appearance on the right
 
One of the main attractions involved the Carousel, a sort of nineteenth century Medieval Times where eminent nobles dressed as knights put on a mock tournament for the glittering nobility.  The highlights included a joust, as King relates: 

This was not like the tournaments of the Middle Ages, when soldiers could and indeed did die on the field, like the unfortunate tournament in 1240 that ended with some eighty knights dead.  The Carousel at the Congress, by contrast, was intended to be a highly stylized simulation.  The knights were to ride in a gallop and try to unseat their opponent, but the judges had urged that they show the utmost civility.  The event did, in fact, go well.  The only incident was when Prince Liechtenstein was unhorsed and carried off the field unconscious.

 There was also fancy horse-dancing.

King also notes that the Congress of Vienna was a hotbed of sexual intrigue.  He focuses on the intense rivalry between Klemens von Metternich and Tsar Alexander for the attentions of various women in Vienna in what can be characterized as a decathlon of fanciness.  Metternich distracted himself during crucial negotiations by penning depressive letters to the Duchess of Sagan; Alexander yelled a lot.

A BIG HOUSE

A Northwestern win can keep alive the dream of a 10-win season for the Wildcats and even the glimmer of hope for a chance at a berth in the Big Ten Championship game.  It will also give the young 'Cats a chance to prove they can close out a strong conference foe without a painful late-game collapse.  Northwestern has emerged as a formidable force during this topsy-turvy Big Ten season that will surely end with the return of Jim Tressel from Elba, making one last stand on the fields of Indianapolis.

Northwestern Football Is Exhilarating, Terrifying, and Bowl-Eligible

Northwestern is vincible.  We all knew that the Wildcats would face trouble once they got into the Big Ten schedule, and they lost both games against difficult opponents.  At the same time, they took care of business on the road in Minnesota and became bowl-eligible for the fifth consecutive season.  Northwestern had only qualified for six bowl games in the entire history of the program before Fitz took over, although bowl requirements were much stricter in the 1950s and 60s; you didn't have the Winston Cigarettes T-Zone Bowl, or the Coppertone Asscheeck Bowl, or the Score a Touchdown/Give 'em Trouble/Lick 'em Like You'll/Lick That Stubble/Burma-Shave Bowl.


Unlike today's bowls named for ridiculous corporations, earlier bowls were 
named after solid staple crops and advertised to people with the exciting prospect 
of a gigantic naked infant lounging menacingly in the stadium.  Note in both 
programs, the stadiums are full of people who seem to be perfectly content 
with their football game being converted into a crib for a baby the size of the 
Chrysler building with no control over its own bladder and no sense of remorse

Northwestern has played more or less the same game for several weeks.  The 'Cats go into halftime with the lead, then the coaching staff unveils its Sword of Damocles packages on offense and defense as we watch the lead evaporate.  During the fourth quarter, the best word to describe Northwestern's playing style is "besieged."  It's tremendously exiting.

Someone who actually knows something about numbers will probably see in one 
second that this graph doesn't really show anything, but I would counter that a falling 
blue line and rising red line correlate directly with the number of household objects 
that I am destroying with my forehead as I watch Northwestern games because that is 
the proper way to watch football.  That's why I bring a briefcase full of scrap wood 
with me when I watch a game at a bar, so I can quietly excuse myself after a big play 
and smash it into smithereens with my forehead in a parking lot

COME BACK!

Northwestern has allowed comebacks in all but two of its games this season-- the South Dakota steamrollering, and the actual Northwestern comeback against Vanderbilt.  The Commodores were so confused by the ordeal that they have refused to play Northwestern in football, canceling future dates with a letter to the athletic department instead of the traditional method of football scheduling, which involves sending a courier with a wax-sealed parchment or, at the very least, a falcon.  Fitz faxed the Vanderbilt Athletic Department 145 pages of ASCII pictures of a fist that, when bound together, create an animated fist-pump flip book.

The Wildcats managed to hold on until the Penn State game, when the offense disappeared in the second half.  This gave the Penn State offense the opportunity to unleash Matt McGloin, the flame-headed hobgoblin of Northwestern football.  McGloin and human battering ram Mike Zordich found new life against an exhausted Northwestern defense in the second half, took over the game, and rallied the Nittany Lions to victory.

Last week, Northwestern was unable to hold the lead against Nebraska, as Taylor Martinez led the Cornhuskers to two unanswered touchdowns.  Martinez has had two of his best games doing whatever it is he does that resembles passing against the Northwestern defense; the Wildcat coaching staff will be training DBs before next year's game by firing footballs at them from Napoleonic War cannons.
 
Allumez la mèche et trouvez le trou dans la zone de couverture

The comeback also happened while Northwestern was wearing its fancy new Big Game Black Alternates, which marks another loss in dandy duds.  These new uniforms featured a stenciled Wildcat on the helmet instead of the traditional sculpted N, although by the end of the game, the logo seemed to be yowling in frustration as the Huskers marched towards the with the aid of the inconsiderate forces of inevitability.

Northwestern's running game remains impressive.  Venric Mark is an electric back who terrorizes opposing special teams coordinators, and the option game with Colter is dangerous near the goal line.  The passing game, however, is still developing.  Northwestern averages just over 172 yards per game, good for dead last in the conference.  That's less than Wisconsin, a team with a playbook that consists of two plays labeled "give the ball to Ron Dayne," with the words "Ron Dayne" scratched out and replaced by whoever is the current running back.
 
The Badgers are trying to find an Aaron Gibson equivalent for their Replacement 
Daynes to run behind, but NCAA regulations currently prohibit tying two tackles 
together and letting them share the same pair of pants

Kolter has drifted back into his role from last year, working as an option quarterback and slot receiver.  Siemian is sent in on obvious passing downs.  Fitz plans on slowly rotating running backs, receivers, and backup linemen into the quarterback spot; one day the entire Wildcat offense will come off the sideline all yelling "I'M QUARTERBACK," which will confuse the defense.

THROW OUT THE RECORD BOOKS, SORT OF

Northwestern has a burgeoning quasi-rivalry with the Hawkeyes: we don't like them, and they are vaguely indifferent.  The Hawkeyes suffered some tough losses in their non-conference schedule, but are in the mix for the LEGENDS DIVISION.  Like Northwestern, they've struggled in the passing game as they learn Greg Davis's system.  It is Davis's sorry fate in life to be universally despised by fans of whatever team he happens to coach for-- crowds gather to chase him from town like a Reverse Pied Piper.  Their offense has been boosted by unheralded walk-on Mark Weisman, who has managed to stagger out of the Hawkeyes' gruesome human rights disaster at running back to the backfield, like the football version of William Brydon at Jalalabad. 
 
Weisman reports to practice after avoiding a diseased piece of dining hall turkey,
an out-of-control cement mixer, a crate of marbles spilled precariously around 
the quad, a pack of wild dogs, and a crazed pre-med student desperate to collect 
as many knee ligaments as he can before the authorities find him

Both teams see this as a crucial and winnable game.  The game will be played at Ryan Field, and I expect a supportive crowd of 30,000 Nebraska fans who will be staying in Evanston as fans in residence after winning a grant from the Northwestern Department of Football Culture.  Like all Northwestern games, this will probably come down to the last minute because I picked the wrong football season to stop sniffing glue.

FUCK IT DUDE, LET'S GO BOWLING

This season was supposed to be a rebuilding year.  Instead, we've seen the emergence of exciting young players on defense, such as Chi Chi Ariguzo and NickVan Hoose, and Venric Mark is as dynamic a playmaker as the Wildcats have ever had.  Northwestern has qualified for a bowl game, and the Big Ten's new status as a national joke has kept them in the LEGENDS DIVISION title hunt, where a championship will allow them to take their place in the pantheon of LEGENDS with the Legends of the Fall, Hercules's Legendary Journeys, and the Legends of the Hidden Temple.  It is important to keep that in mind as the 'Cats dangle precariously from another fourth quarter cliff.   And Northwestern is in position for an eight or even a nine win season, in position to go to a marginally less crappy bowl, and in position to wrench The Hat off of Tim Beckman's head and parade it in victory down Sheridan Road.  Northwestern and Iowa may not have a fancy rivalry trophy, but they do have the opportunity to ruin each other's season, and that may be the sweetest trophy of them all.

Actually, it is not, it is still the hat, give us our damn hat back.