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THE 24 HOUR RULE: Corn Nation Welcomes The Buffaloes Back To Lincoln **

After a few years, Colorado is coming back to town. Anyone else not exactly feeling all warm and fuzzy at the prospect?

Your face after the Huskers put you through the kitchen floor by a score of 52-7.

**No, we don’t. We extend a middle finger and hold it there to make sure it’s clearly seen. More on that in a minute.

Welcome, everyone, to my first attempt at a new weekly column. I realize it’s coming out not even close to 24 hours after the most recent Husker game, but the title is based on the very correct idea when confronted with an irritating idea, event, story, childish political tweet or, heavens forbid, an upsetting sporting event, one should wait a full day before expressing an opinion loudly or publicly.

In that spirit, I’ll be firing this off on Tuesdays (or this case, Thursday) about the weekend’s or previous week’s happenings with the Huskers, college football in general and anything else that tripped my trigger. Think of it as the poor man’s John Oliver in print, about college football instead of politics and definitely not as funny.

I’ve never been deluded enough to believe that my opinions are right just because they’re strong, so disagreements in the comments are just as welcome as the attaboy, good jobs. Have a sip or two with me, pull up to the keyboard and let fly.

That’s the quick description anyway. Perhaps over time, this thing might even develop some sort of structure or consistency, but that’s not happening out of the gate. I can dream, though. Let’s see what irritated me this week.


Or in this case, what will irritate me this weekend.

My favorite bartender and I were discussing how quickly the hate switch flipped back on during the 2014 Nebraska-Miami game. Everyone was jolly before kickoff, but once the game started it took about three and a ½ minutes for the majority of the Tiger Tom’s patrons to be red-faced, flipping off the TV and cursing like a monkey with Tourette’s syndrome & 16 ounces of amphetamines swimming through his little hopped-up veins. It brought back…memories.

Colorado brings back memories.

In 1982, a hypocritical right-wing “Christian” fundamentalist named Bill McCartney was considered a good hire for a campus whose political winds blew slightly left of Lenin among the tie-dyed lightweights that made up the majority of the student body. He immediately declared that Nebraska was their rival (sound familiar, Bob Diaco?) and displaying the true lessons of Christ? Yep, he began taunting all people and things Nebraska and found an inroads to the best that the SoCal Crips had to offer, praise the Lord. The combination of left-wing politics, a right-wing weirdo who knew football but really didn’t understand that the days of “Wash those dishes now!!” weren’t coming back and a collection of felons who were happily unleashed on an unsuspecting student body in the mountains made for a program that would produce some amazing short-term success. And then burn the hell out.

It’s Colorado week and I am once again extending my middle finger westward as a program with an 18-49-2 record in the series returns to renew hostilities while happily chortling about the 62-36 game and the dominance that came with it! Now, with one loss instead of two, we actually got to go play in the national title game and get smoked by an NFL roster of Miami Hurricanes while they got their asses handed to them by Joey Harrington. But…GAME CHANGER.

They dominated us starting with the McCartney Era. It’s just a fact. Bill threw down the gauntlet…and went 3-9-1. Then came Slick Rick at 0-4. Gary Barnett – actually their most successful coach if you ignore things like gang and teammate rape scandals –was up next at 3-4, followed by Wild Dan Hawkins at 1-4. It was NOT intramurals, baby.

Hey, if my program’s salad days against the declared rival produced a record of 7-21-1, I’d yak about that one big win, too. They can keep 62-36, I’ll take the 52-7 beatdown of 1992 any day of the week. Hell, I bet Koy Detmer and Kordell Stewart still have a few unhealed bruises after getting sonned hard that day.

But getting back to the present, I could likely open a Denver paper today and read some gut-busting jokes about Nebraska hicks, log cabins and the boring scenery just like good old Woody Paige in the 90’s. It was always so hilarious back then to watch bozos who really believed in superiority through geographical location get such a kick out of that stuff while they farted in their bathtubs and giggled at the bubbles.

Hey, the Buffs that show up Saturday afternoon may not have half a roster populated by felons with fresh mug shots on file or a cross-eyed jackhammer of a coach who thinks the Promise Keepers is a fine idea. A new generation of Buffs fans might actually be fun to tailgate with and won’t throw cups and bags full of urine at Husker fans in Boulder next year. I guess anything is possible.

But this Saturday, they’re back in Lincoln and, in case you can’t tell, the old feelings are bubbling back up. I believe the rage will escalate quickly once the kickoff sails and maybe even before. To be honest, I’m looking forward to it. Akron may have a gotten a reprieve from the debut of the Frost Era, but won’t it be sweeter to kick it off by turning the Buffaloes in some low-grade Runza stuffing?

Sure, there’s a chance that the Colorado contingent isn’t chock full of flat-out jerks anymore, but I asked one Husker die-hard (who shall remain anonymous) the other night if he would be heading down to Lincoln for the game. His response probably summed everything up best.

“Nah. Those people were shit in the 90’s, them and their kids are probably still shit now and I’m too damn old to be sittin’ in a jail for shutting ‘em up.”


It was a tough situation, we all hated the cancellation and everyone could definitely have handled things better. Everyone lived. Learn from it and have a better plan the next time it happens.


From all accounts, he took the news well and was ready to continue working and be ready when his number was called. Then came the about face and decision to transfer. He didn’t strike as the type of kid (yeah, I know, like I know anything about him reading a few articles and catching an interview or two) who, knowing there was a very real chance of losing this competition, decided on a backup plan of transferring last minute and potentially screwing over his team, coaches and friends.

Am I the only one who thinks daddy or someone else with close influence got involved?

Regardless of why, I wish him only the best.


Reading Zack Smith’s whiny, drunken Twitter tirade and another self-serving tweet from Urban Rat Meyer, who truly believes he should emerge from all this with his wins, his cash, his job, everyone believing that his mountain of lies wasn’t actually lies AND his self-crafted holier-than-thou image intact, leads me to believe two things:

  1. This is far from over for Ohio State.
  2. I’m really glad I hadn’t started this a couple weeks earlier. I’d still be typing. 24 hours isn’t near enough time.