The Huskerh8er Wishes Thee Farewell

Many of you might be familiar with a friend of mine that goes by the handle "Huskerh8er". He loves to tweak Husker fans, and did so for nearly four years with his "Behind Enemy Lines" blog.  But over time, he grew tired of the blog, especially in 2007 when nearly every Husker fan realized that he was right about Bill Callahan being a fraud. After his Missouri Tigers pummelled Nebraska in Lincoln in 2008, he announced the end of his blog, and signed off in January, proclaiming "victory."

And just like a professional wrestler who starts his victory dance prematurely, Nebraska jumped back up, whacked him from behind when he wasn't expecting it, and became relevant again.  After the events of this summer, when his Tigers didn't get the Big Ten invitation they expected, selecting Nebraska instead, the Huskerh8er offers this final thought on the eve of the final Big XII meeting between the Tigers and the Huskers.

Farewell.

Over time, we all face relationships that aren’t good for us. Personally, I’ve been involved in a horrible college football relationship for the past 25 years. Oh sure, we’re an odd couple, but many others function in similar situations, and mine really isn’t that different than others. This relationship, like all relationships, this one has certainly had it’s ups and downs. And although she has been with me since 1986 and really didn’t seem too bad back then…deep down I knew we were doomed, and this would never turn out well.

In this relationship, I’ve felt dominated. I’ve felt betrayed. I thought things would change between us in 1997, but even that was just a mirage. Everything before that was so helpless, so challenging, so depressing and so hopeless. Those who don’t know her, always admire her beauty from afar, but never really gets to know the real person inside. To others, she’s just another hot girl, who may have a few flaws, but sooner or later will put it all together, and be better than ever in no time flat.

But in 2003, I met someone.

Brad Smith’s electric performance on a soggy night in Columbia showed me that I don’t have to sit back and take the abuse anymore. I celebrated my independence last night, and did what most emancipated people do when they realize they don’t have to take it anymore from those who are posion to them…I partied. I partied hard. It was a glorious night, and even though she was angry with me…for once, I simply didn’t care. It felt good fighting back. It felt damn good.

Over the following 8 years, the one-sided, dominant relationship turned for the worst. Despite my new found ability to fight back, she got even worse in her behavior. It looked like I finally had the upper hand in 2009, but a freak turn of events and a man named Suh, brought the ugliness back into our relationship. Ever since then, it’s been nothing but squabbles, fights, disrespect, anger and hatred.

FINALLY, in June of this year…she filed for divorce. Oh sure, I had thought about divorce many times…but she beat me to the punch. The guy she is leaving me for is older, full of himself but really hasn’t accomplished much. During her nightly taunts, she screams back at me, "Enjoy being alone. Enjoy being at the mercy of somebody even more dominant and powerful. Enjoy being that girl from Texas’ bitch. I know that girl from Texas. She’s not exactly fun to be around either…but at least I know what I’m getting into.

This scenario has played itself out in relationships across America and across the world for centuries. Relationships fail for a variety of reasons..and even if we think we can stick through it and make it through…eventually it gets too much to bear, and they must go their separate ways. Yes, it should have happened many years ago…and yes, I maybe could have handled things differently. Yes, I didn’t have to take the abuse for so many years, but at the very least…I’ve said what I’ve wanted to say to her..and luckily, other people have now seen what a complete trainwreck she really is.

Tomorrow is our divorce hearing, and everything is on the line. I should be extremely nervous knowing that she usually gets her way….hell, back in the day she ALWAYS got her way. Oh sure, I could get lucky, and fate could be on my side…she could be left with nothing but a new loser boyfriend and a swift kick out the door; but the risk is there, and I may lose it all tomorrow on one single afternoon. I’m feeling better of late…looking and feeling good. She’s dolled herself back up, hoping the rest of the world notices.

But the funny thing is? None of that matters. I don’t care if she takes everything. I don’t care if she says the new guy she’s going to is more mature, more attractive and richer than I am. I don’t really care if she likes to think back to the day when she was the hottest thing in heels, and I was lucky to take abuse from her or anybody for that matter.

Is this the VERY end? Not really. Oh sure, we’ll pass by each other from time to time. We may even be seated next to each other at a bowl game 20 years down the line. Our relationship may be healed up by then and we may be civil…but odds are, the old scars will be there. She’ll never again be what she once was. She’ll never again be that hot chick holding all the cards, treating me like crap and making me take everything she dished out…simply because she could.

No, despite the pain of sitting with her one more time…tomorrow is not a good day, but truly a historic and monumental one. It might be the highest of highs, where I take everything she has and walk out of there looking like a million bucks with the entire nation on my jock. It might be a rotten day where she gets her way one last time on her way out the door and everybody from Happy Valley to Berkley mocks me. But no matter what happens…no matter how good she looks and how good she makes her future life seem….she’s no longer my problem after tomorrow.

I’ll let her new man deal with her sh*t from here on out.

I don’t have to anymore.