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It takes three times before that word starts to look funny.  I keep wanting to type souper.  Hehehe.  Anyway, I’m thrilled for the Colts, as you all know I am a toes to bangs Greenbay fan it would have been heartbreaking to root for the Bears of course, but I rooted for the Colts for more than the lesser-of-two-evils reason.  For anybody not paying attention, or just not quick enough to catch it, those reasons are Dallas “Soft Hands” Clark and Bob “the Machine!” Sanders.  Oh how I love those boys!  It brought a tear to my eye to see Sanders hold up the Lombardi trophy.  I suppose I’m happy for Manning too, as much as I would like to hate him for being born with a silver football in his hands, he played well, and seems to be an all around good guy.  He’d have to have a sense of humor about himself to make those terrible commercials.  Honestly, the person I am most happy for is Tony Dungy.  Aside from the personal issue surrounding him, its really just cool to see such a great guy win.  He worked his nuts off for this team for five years, he deserves it.  I like Lovie too, and not just because of his cool name.  A stand up guy in the truest sense of the word.  And being witness to a piece of history?  Awesome.

Despise

Abhor

Detest

Loath

Scorn

Can’t Stand

Spurn

Disdain

- and that, my friends, in a nutshell, is how I feel about the fucking Buckeyes

I want to start this by saying I hope any Texans who swore to stop reading after that last post will break their vow to read this, where I (hopefully) make up for it by extolling the virtues of one of its native sons.  

The incomparable, impetuous, impassioned, irrational, impulsive and slightly insane (man I love alliteration!) Drew Tate. 

The understatement of the year: he’s a bit emotional 

The second understatement of the year: he’s important to the Hawks 

I swear on all I hold dear to me that he will give me a heart attack one day- maybe even before he gives himself one.  He’s just so damned excitable!  He should care, he should get pissed when things go wrong and enjoy it when things go right.  And then forget about it!  He needs to control himself, while letting go of past, then he’ll control the ball better and make better decisions. 

He’s not dumb, by any means.  He grew up with football on the brain.  He grew up in Texas for fuck’s sake.  Texas is football.  So don’t tell me he doesn’t know pressure, or what happens when you don’t forget what happened last time. 

He is, by far, the most valuable player on the team.  On any team in fact.  Without him, we are lost.  He leads us; his emotion drives us to greater and greater heights, just to drop us to the ground, like last year.  He’s our greatest strength and our Achilles’ Heal.  It’s a lot of pressure, maybe that’s why he’s so damned fragile. 

Sure, I get emotional about football.  I scream for blood at the TV, I rant about steroids, I rave about great plays, I probably invest a little too much of myself into this stuff. 

But I don’t call the plays, I don’t read defenses and I sure as hell do not throw the damn ball!  Drew Tate does and so, I will say, as I have said since his sophomore year- “if he’d just settle down for two freaking minutes and listen to his instincts he’d be awesome” 

-and what does he do?  All hope is lost in the sunny land of Florida, at the 2005 Capitol One Bowl.  The LSU Tigers (reining champs) have our Hawks by the balls and Drew Tate, the most miserable man in town finally gives up, settles down, listens to his instincts and throws an unbelievable pass.  A game winning pass.  The Hawks have conquered the once and forgotten tigers.  All is good in the world. 

My heart stopped for a full minute.  I have a beautiful framed picture of the moment.  We can have the glory again- Tate can have that glory again. 

This Saturday, at 7:00PM Central Standard Time we have our chance. 

Chandler, Schlicher, Young, Sims, Shada- Tate  

These young men have the power, in the awesome force of their talent, drive and the greatest coach in college football- to overcome the odds and beat the EVIL Ohio State Buckeyes. 

I have a dream ladies and gents- oh do I have a dream.  The dejected face of Troy Smith, the tears of Antonio Pittman…. oh it is sweet. 

With the newest increase in his salary, Kirk Ferentz has become one of the highest paid head coaches in college football. Raising his annual pay to $2.84 million along with a $1.4 million (his old salary) payment upfront. Not only does that put him in with the likes of Bob Stoops and Mac Brown, it also puts him above Jim Tressel. Anything that puts Iowa above Ohio State in anyway makes me a very happy girl.

Now, a lot of talk is swirling in this state about whether or not Kirk (hereafter referred to as the Black and Gold God or BGG) is worth that kind of money.

Anyone questioning that had better review their loyalties.

The man is worth more than his weight in gold- literally. The price of gold per ounce $638.00US * 16 oz * 180 (rough guess of BGG’s weight, as it was no where to be found on the web)= $1,837,440 Is he worth his own weight plus a million? Oh hell yes!

Take the numbers for example, three seasons in the Top Ten, two Big Ten Championships, 4 straight bowl games, 40+ drafted or signed NFL players and a whole host of awards- including AP Coach of the Year and the Heisman runner- up in 2002.

Then again, look past the numbers. The BGG is a bigger celebrity than Ashton Kutcher in Iowa City. Nearly everyone there worships him as I do. He’s creating a brand new legacy while still staying faithful to the Great Fry era of spirit, determination and full bodied love of the game. He reminds us all of the neighbor we’d love to have, the one who mows your grass without being asked when you’re on vacation, who has well-behaved kids and dogs who adored him rather than fear him and who is always willing to show up at your backyard party with a six pack and smile. He isn’t fake, he isn’t trying, he just is.

He never comes off as a hard ass, an idiot or a freak who believes football is the only thing that matters. He obviously cares about the reputation of the school, the love of his fans and the lives of the players he touches. He asks for respect and gives it freely, he is approachable, intelligent and humble. He deserves every bit of attention and every accolade but never lets it get to him. And he is very, very good at what he does.

It’s no wonder the NFL is scrambling to pull him into their ranks. There is no fear of a Spurrier-esque crumble because they see what the people of Iowa City, and the state as a whole, have seen since December 2nd, 1998 (and even before, when he assisted The Great Fry), the quiet, average looking Superman that molds talent into skill, crafts parts into a whole and makes an entire state bleed Black and Gold when they thought all was lost.

Maybe now that he holds court with some of the best college coaches in the all important status symbol of salary, he will be seen by all for what he is, the greatest coach in college football.

The BGG is more than a worthy successor to the Great Fry, he’s exactly the kind coach Iowa needs to keep them winning, growing and becoming the unstoppable force I know they can be. And they can do it without the drama, cheating and ridiculousness of Some Other Schools.

So is Kirk Ferentz worth his weight in gold?

No, he’s worth his weight in Black and Gold.

(Okay, that last line is cheese-erific, somebody help me come up with something better please)

Two posts in three days and no lack of enthsiasum in sight. I have realized I can’t spell for crap though, I guess I’ll just to go out of my way and actually reread what I write. Sigh. Other than that unsurprising bit of news, so far blogging has been much more rewarding and fun then I anticipated from my former attempts. I actually like what I wrote in my first post. Well, like in the sense that I don’t feel like throwing up when I read it, which for me is a great step up from my usual opinion. Let’s keep this train rolling otherwise I’ll get so mired in patting myself on the back we’ll never get anywhere.

I am going to say one thing, and one thing only about the Barry Bonds home run hoopla:

He will never be remembered as a face of baseball, ‘the Sultan’ or ‘the Great’ he won’t be anything but Barry Bonds. No matter how hard he tries to make nice, which I don’t think he will, he will never hold a nickname or epithet that will carry on long after he is gone, into the annals of baseball history.  He doesn’t deserve it.

Moving on, Let’s talk about the Yankees. After a dashing effort by the second string on Wednesday, the Yankees are a mere half a game behind first. Seriously, I haven’t gotten to watch as much baseball as I would like to this year, but my boys are handling the injury crunch quite nicely. Randy Johnson looked his age in more ways than just crappy pitching. The Sagging Unit I saw on the mound is a far cry from the lankey Rubberband O’ Power I giggled at while he and the Diamondbacks drilled through the Yanks to World Series gold. It was depressing to watch, to say the least. He warmed himself up a bit towards the end, but even then I could only think of the death of a firefly. One last flash before the end. How sad!