Scene One: a guy in his car, driving up to a cousin's graduation party. He passes the sign that reads, "Welcome to Michigan."
Guy: (as in relief) Aaaaaaaaah....
Scene Two: same guy in the same car, driving back. He passes the sign that reads, "Welcome to Ohio."
You know, I've considered myself a resident of Ohio for 20 freaking years.
I'm a Red Sox fan who lives in the Bronx.
A Browns fan who lives in Pittsburgh.
A [soccer team] fan who lives in [rival soccer team's hometown].
I've endured it for 20 years, sometimes vindicated, sometimes while covering my head.
And lately I've been the long-suffering one. I'm not a so-called Wal-Mart Wolverine Fan who struts around Michigan in a sweatshirt when the team is doing well. I'm in freaking Ohio, where once they find out who you like they don't let up whether you're wearing your stuff or not.
So screw it, I'll wear it anyway.
I'll wear it during Lloyd's swansong, during the national ridicule off an App. State loss, during a possible fourth consecutive Buckeye loss if the opener was any indication, during yet another season of high hopes and then crushing disappointment. And if Carr squeaks it out, all the better. Except then, he might be invited back. Ew.
Dammit, they should make maize and blue kamikazee helmets.
Go Freaking Blue.
If we're going down we're going down swinging.
Hint: Oregon does the same stuff that got you beat last week, except they're D-1. Hopefully you looked into that. Also, shout out to my brother who will be at that game, even though he didn't invite me.