And yet, the number three has managed to exceed itself by virtue of the enemy at hand: Michigan State. The losing streak to the Buckeyes is significant and embarrassing, but this one, less than half as long as that one, is arguably just as discomfiting to think about. I remember getting closer to home after the game, reaching the corner of State and Hill and waiting for the orange hand to change. A phalanx of what must have been anywhere from fifty to one hundred Spartan fans stood on the corner, chanting mindlessly in backwards hats.
A loss is a loss, but somehow I didn't feel so defeated in 2008 and 2009. In 2008, Michigan was doomed to be cripplingly incompetent for the entire season, and it was apparent so early on that a loss to them wasn't so surprising. In 2009, the nature of the defeat was draining in that we had--Tate had--exerted so much effort to bring us back, like we had done many times before, only to fall in overtime. At least then there was a hope that we had something unique at the quarterback position, someone who wouldn't quit even if they were puking their brains out in a foreign land. We lost, but the defense wasn't outright horrible and we showed a fight that wasn't there later that year, and, in particularly damning fashion, the very next season.
Last year, however, was a different story. It was brutal, stupid conquest. It was a Mongolian horde sacking cities and using ancient books for kindling. It was utter defeat. It was the beginning of the end.
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I was too young to ever hate Nick Saban (a fact for which I've made up for in the present time), and Bobby Williams and John L. Smith were about as endearingly incompetent as a rival coach can be. The Woodson interception in the 1997 contest is about the only thing that I remember--being eight at the time--but given the non-competitive nature of the game that is probably a fittingly reductive memory to have. After the 2001 fiasco, the 2002 49-3 drubbing confirmed to my younger self that Michigan was simply better than Michigan State, that it was an undeniable historical truth. The 2006 game brought that back to the fore after a series of hard-fought games in 2003, 2004, and 2005, each of which required a distinct measure of heroics from a Wolverine, whether it be Chris Perry or Braylon Edwards or a hobbled Mike Hart. These contests (as well as the 2007 game), continued to paint the perhaps unrealistic picture that this would last forever, that Michigan State was never going to be anything but the minor nuisance that Mike hart once alluded to.
And so, here we are in 2011, with an albatross of three years hanging our collective necks. We've lost three in a row to other Big Ten foes--for example, Penn State and Ohio State, as well as two tough ones in a row to Iowa. All of these teams have fielded formidable squads, and all three have made BCS bowl games in recent years. Iowa and OSU have notched impressive bowl victories, and Penn State fell to another impressive Trojan team. All of this is done not to praise these teams in and of themselves, teams which I have no interest in in a vacuum. It's all relative, and I only mean to put them next to Michigan State, side by side, to show that one of these is not like the others. That, among the mass of big wins and BCS bowl victories and top draft picks, one entity is wholly anonymous, a cut below the rest despite its yearnings.
The worst thing Mark Dantonio did was to field teams good enough to beat Michigan but teams that were, at the same time, not great. In short, his teams have not been special, and that includes last year's 11-2 team. At least he could have done us the courtesy of being good without any qualifiers.
Even with the last three years on the field against the Spartans in mind, the complete lack of order or discipline in the MSU football program, and the humorous immaturity of that program's head coach, there is one thing that perhaps might be worse than all of that, a thing which I think of when I hear the name Mark Dantonio.
In July, Kirk Cousins gave a speech at a Big Ten luncheon in Chicago that was well-received by almost everybody. This is not about Kirk Cousins or really even the speech itself; I want to make that clear. Cousins talked about nice things, like responsibility and being a role model and other such fine stuff. Cousins seems like a nice fellow and a guy you wouldn't mind knowing personally. regardless of your affiliations. I agreed with everything that he said--and could even relate to much of what he said--and it was refreshing to hear something good from the world of college football, particularly in these dark times of duplicitous realignment stratagems and rampant cheating. You listen to the speech and hear solid, decent ideas, like privilege, leadership, and so on. And yet, at the same time, in this age of irony and cynicism, it's hard not to listen to a speech given by a young man from a well-to-do family talk about these types of things and roll your eyes a little bit, but, that's probably just as much a fault of the cynic. But, I digress.
Dantonio, who has devalued the meaning of the word special. After Cousins finished his 7-minute ode to the wonders of being a college football player, Dantonio turned to his left and mouthed the word "special" to Minnesota Coach Jerry Kill. This moment, in and of itself, isn't anything so terrible. It is one coach lauding his guy in the corny way that coaches often do. This guy is special, this guy is gonna be special one day, this guy has the potential to be special. No coach is immune from this sort of thing. But, in the grand scheme of things, this is probably the most objectionable thing Dantonio has ever done. To say that something so bland and hackneyed (albeit certainly well-intentioned and inherently solid in its morality) is special--or, more pointedly, that the person saying these things is special because they've said these things--submarines the very meaning of the word, so that everything special becomes waterlogged with the mediocrity of platitudes.
The most frustrating thing of all is that we've lost to a man who has capitalized on Michigan's downfall to change the rules, to change the very meanings of words to fit the new order. Michigan no longer being Michigan meant that someone had to fill the power vacuum, and in 2010 that someone was Michigan State, who went 11-2 while missing Ohio State and getting clobbered by Iowa and Alabama much like any old Spartan team was wont to do. Michigan State was a little bit better than they usually were, sure. But, can you honestly look back and say that they were special? I wouldn't, but I'll bet Mark Dantonio would. Mark Dantonio probably thinks that steak he had at Applebee's last night was special and that oatmeal is the most flavorful breakfast one can enjoy, especially if there's nothing else available, like eggs, cereal, or basically anything else that anyone could eat for breakfast. I feel bad for the English language and the things in life that are truly special, the things that unknowingly took by virtue of Dantonio's careless diction. The things that are special weep.
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Quite frankly, he's a smug, pompous buffoon. He responds to the trash talk of college kids and unjustifiably elevates the ordinary to an exalted sphere that exists only in his mind. I've never said any of these things about a Michigan State head coach because I've never had to. Mark Dantonio has made me truly hate the Spartans again, and for an out-of-stater that is truly something. It was a difficult price to pay, but Mark, you've got our attention.
I don't know if this Michigan team is special; honestly, I don't even know what it would mean to be special anyway. In any case, there's something to be said for what this program has had to go through, the all-consuming fire through which we've traversed to get to the point we are at today. I think about where I was at this point last season and can't help but laugh at all the things that have happened since then. One thing that hasn't changed is that, despite the coaching change, the subtle shifts in philosophy, and everything that has come with the overhaul of the Michigan program in this Era of Good Feelings, Michigan still has Denard Robinson. That by itself is enough for me to have hope, and that is something special. Just like last year, I put all my faith in Denard to get the job done, and just like last year I expect to win.
I've heard a number of times, from Michigan fans and BTN commentators and others, that, as long as Michigan has Denard Robinson they will have a chance to win any game. Whether or not that is actually true can be debated, but, let's assume that it is (and I think that it assuredly is). Does that not make Denard the physical embodiment of hope for Michigan football? Having hope after the last three years is astounding, but to have it all because of this one human being is something else. To have hope despite all that has happened...that is something special.
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