We're gonna dance around a bit. Good for cheering us up. We need to collect our restless spirit from the dark night winds swirling around us now.
So, at appropriate interludes there needs to be some music to fill up this bye week. You can help with that.
No one is writing much because, frankly, there's not much to cheer about and the sense of anticipation is about like a pen full of young bulls when it's nut chopping time in the spring. Although it is so slow in this desperately needed bye week, and there really nothing to say, I've never been one to let that deter me from my appointed mission, whatever in the hell that is.
It don't do no good to let the sonofabitches get you down. Get off you damn butt and do something...no news is good news. Damn good news. Excellent news. And we have until Monday at 11 p.m. to enjoy it. Maybe Mack will say nothing besides some poor mouthing and woe is us bullshit. I want you to put on your dancing shoes and get happy. Or get small, if you're that generation. Or have a snort. Or penetrate the impenetrable, even if she is your wife.
And for you newcomers, down-in-the-mouthers and NU
cornholers lurkers, Ida Red should set the scene. Bob and Tommy, the fiddle line, twin mandolins no less and lap-top steel (which didn't roast your thighs) on a dusty street on a perfectly forgettable western all set up by Tex Ritter, a UT alum btw, who got Bob in the movies.
That's where we're from, hard days in the dust, sweaty summers so bad the British legation in Houston gave its diplomats hazard pay just to serve there, and afflictions and bad weather as everyday occurrences. We've been through a lot and most of us didn't strike oil or any comparable quick claim to wealth; but we did acquire a richness of spirit and strength of character. And by god a couple of piss ant defeats ain't enough to even dent that legacy. So, buck up cowboy and get back on that damn horse. The Longhorns will gore your ass if they catch you afoot.
Stop trying to read Mack's and GD's minds. You don't know if they have one and would probably be more than a little dazed from the visit. Their asses are against the wall right now. Either they have answers or they don't. We won't know until next Saturday.
In the meantime, watch Nebraska squirm.
The silence of the herd is deafening. All Nebraska is hearing is whispering of the corn fields and wagon loads of praise from every quarter. It may not mean much to us old timers and jaded bloggers but to a bunch of overgrown kids, it's all they have to go on. That and their crazy, obsessed coach who has been pushing them way too hard for too long. No horse whisperer there for damn sure.
Nebraska had a pretty good bead and that probably got even better these last two weeks. But now, nothing... it's
quite quiet...too quite quiet. What will really come out of shoot #1?
Nebraska University spent a lot of time talking out of their ass and they know it. No more talk. No more senile AD bullshit. Put up or shut up. Maybe you can, maybe you can't. We ain't saying. You'll have to find out the hard way, just like us. And if anything is damn sure, we're plenty unhappy right at the moment.