The prodigal son was returning home, come to deliver us from misery and stagnation, come to rescue us from the worst loss since time immemorial, an annihilation at the hands of a west coast team and the moribund performance against our most hated rivals.
He was supposed to have come to save us with his passion, vigor, and anger. He was supposed to bring with him coordinators who actually knew how to coach rather than just their way around Ann Arbor. He was going to arrive with maize and blue blood flowing through his veins and pride in his heart, but it turned out his blood was purple... or maybe just green.
I cannot adequately describe the path of my emotions throughout the day yesterday as I tried to go about my routine as a college student, to write a paper, to read, to finish a presentation that was due the following week, as I could only stare at a computer screen and watch as the future of my most beloved team was tossed about. I know I don't need to retrace the steps for any of you, I'm sure man you were there with me, staring at MGoBlog as update after update appeared, each bringing hope or despair.
I don't even know how to feel now, when everything seems lost, when the hope of this program seems dead. I suppose it should be sadness, it should be anger, but many it's only confusion. I sit here wondering whether to be mad at Les Miles or LSU or Bill Martin or Kirk Herbstreit or Fate for that matter, but I have no answers, no information whatsoever. I have no idea what happened, and I'm not sure if I ever will.
I'm not going to speculate, but just sit here and stare at a glowing screen. After such a horrible campaign, we had a new general, we had our messiah, the man who would lead us back to the promised land. But instead of a glorious return home to rescue us all, he stayed in the bayou, forsaking this bitter winter and us.
If there is anything that I have learned from this football seasons, is that there is no perfect plot to real life. There are tales that you will tell your grandkids, but they aren't all the tales you wished so badly to tell.
1 comment:
I believe that in the years to come, we will look at our coach and our teams and our championships and thank the creator for blessing us with the coach we will eventually get. We will say to ourselves, "You know, we almost got Les Miles; and if we had, we would not be doing as well today."
I do wish Les Miles well, but I know that Michigan will do better and sometimes, the best hires are the ones that you didn't make, namely Les Miles.
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