And Now, Your Inevitable Yakety Sax Video

Take your medicine, Wolverines. Take your medicine:

It's crunchy and delicious.

Blogjammin': Gallows Humor Abounds With mgoblog

In the unlikely experiment that has been my last few years of blogging, I've got to do some pretty cool things, like hug a man in a singlet, break Orson Swindle's clavicle in a game of touch football, and survive the rain-drenched miracle that was the 2006 Michigan State game. But one of my favorite days of the year is when I go toe to toe with the other Brian at mgoblog and duke it out over the upcoming Michigan game.

Verily, we've come a long way since our first blogjam in 2006, when our beloved football teams both had championship aspirations. Each year since our inaugural chat, our teams have circled further and further down the toilet of college football, and it's quite possible we're responsible for it. Nevertheless, we must storm on, even though this upcoming tilt is reaching the paramount of absurd irrelevance. By God, the world needs laughter, or at least that kind of hysterical laughter that squeezes its way out of you between body-wracking sobs and unnecessarily large bites of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream.

In 2006, we donned Mexican wrestling uniforms. In 2007, we opted for tapioca wrestling. This year, to commemorate this upcoming game, we put on powdered wigs and breeches and just slapped the ever-loving Christ out of each other. I'm in bold, Brian's in blue. Part two is available over at mgoblog. Spoiler alert, we talk about jamming footballs in people's butts. I've said too much.

fightinamish:Shall we tussle?

mgoblog: Okay, as per usual Proper Grammar and Punctuation will help.

The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.

Sounds good to me.

Allright, (cracks knuckles)....

First things first. During the Utah game, they showed a sign in the Michigan weight room that said, "In a time of crisis you will not rise to the occasion, you will default to your level of preparation". Question: did Rich Rodriguez find that in a fortune cookie? Follow up: isn't it funnier if you add "in bed" to the end?

The answer to the second half of the question provides the answer to the second: "in bed" doesn't really go at the end of this sentence humorously, so it couldn't have come from a fortune cookie. My vote goes to "real estate seminar pamphlet."

Respect the cock!

Possibly... although I think it was originally written in Japanese and hastily translated.

But that's not even the best sign in the weight room. There's one that has a subject-verb agreement error that I'm sure someone pointed out to Barwis once.

Parts of that unfortunate soul's brain are still landing in former Soviet republics.

Times must be hard at the Athletic Department... with all the money they're spending on the stadium and practice facilities, it seems like they're outsourcing everything else.

Did you know you can hire Indian or Eastern European coders for like 10 bucks an hour? I'm looking into this. I plan on introducing MGoStatisticsWhatACountry! next year.

Document the offensive and defensive formations faster! Do you want to see your family again?

Gotta love child labor

It'll be an online version of "Coming to America" except with True Punting Rate and stuff.

I don't even know what that is. I just made it up. BUT UKRANIANS WILL MAKE IT FOR ME.

But I digress.

Indeed you do. So, to gradually guide this to vaguely relevant discussion, what's the quarterback situation going to be this week? It's been a mix and match job so far... will Rodriguez outsource that, too? Are we looking at Sareep Neheedamajet's first start at QB? Or perhaps, dare I say, an adorable golden retriever?

Given the way things have been going they should see if Carlos Brown can throw a bubble screen, but it will be Threet. Threet actually made a ton of good decisions against Miami (Not That Miami) and would have moved the team down the field consistently if he hadn't overthrown every downfield route by 10 yards. Dude needs to relax. Nick Sherdian will probably see time after Threet overthrows Tacopants on third and seven.

As a side note, I'm rooting for the big guy to win the job, as I thought of a really cool nickname for him... "Picabo Threet"

I like "Dual Threet," but that threatens to be *really* sarcastic against teams outside of the MAC.

Yeah... one of the commentators during the Miami game actually used the phrase "Pat White" on that first touchdown. Flabbergasting.

For whatever reason Miami (Not That Miami) was leaving those zone read keepers wide open. You or I could have scored on that play. Steven Threet could have scored on it.

So what, do you suppose, will be the offensive gameplan for Michigan. I can't imagine the Threet keeper is going to be a permanent staple... are you going to try to establish the short passing from the spread that SDSU showed some relative success at doing against the Irish last week?

I really doubt it, actually. Michigan has two types of passes in the arsenal so far: screens and downfield bombs. Throwing across the middle when your quarterback tends to overthrow guys by five yards is asking for a safety to go "look what I found" and intercept your wildly inaccurate pass. I assume the gameplan will be similar to what it was in the first couple games just because that's about all Michigan can do right now. That does include the keeper if Notre Dame chooses to disrespect it like Miami(NTM) did. Michigan is big on respect, capo.

Respect the... aw, dammit. I already used this joke.

I wasn't aware there was an offensive strategy in the last two games... although I didn't see all of the Miami game. My Tivo switched over to that "Hole in the Wall" gameshow about halfway through and I didn't even notice it for 25 minutes.

Actually, in the UFR's I've discovered I really, really like the offensive strategy. There's a half-dozen core plays that all play off each other and create a simple framework in which it's really easy to gash the defense for big chunks of yards. Michigan just sucks at executing it. Really, really sucks.

Really.

I only realized it wasn't the Michigan game when I noticed the pants weren't shiny enough.

Really. So, do you think it can take advantage of a Tenuta "Blitz By God Blitz Everybody" defense?

There are opportunities to do so. When that OLB nominally tasked with covering the little bastard in the slot blitzes and Michigan goes to the bubble screen they're one good block and one missed tackle away from a big chunk of yards. Same with the little flare route that shoots a really fast guy out to the backside of a play that looks like the standard zone read. The opportunites are horizontal, not vertical, and I think the spread sort of limits how exotic your blitzes can get unless you've got the opponent in an unfavorable down and distance. Michigan DC Scott Shafer is a tweed jacket version of Tenuta and he hasn't done much unleashing of the dogs except in obvious passing situations.

Copy that. Allright, serious question. What's the biggest thing you've ever seen Sam McGuffie jump over?

Charlie Weis's....

...ego!

ba DUM ching!

Hi-yo!

No, seriously: Canada.

I saw him jump over Knowshon Moreno while he was jumping over that CMU safety.

I loled.

Allright, you're officially off the Budweiser Hot Seat. Pepper me with your dastardliest questions.

---

Like I said, part two is available at mgoblog. It's a doozy.

Knowshon Moreno Has Been Upstaged, Again

It's a tough year for Heisman hopeful Knowshon Moreno. We at The House Rock Built can sympathize with his beleaguered Heisman campaign as he struggles against all odds to break through the crippling anonymity that comes with playing in the oft-overlooked SEC.

Picture the scene: you've just made an outstanding, career-making play by hurdling over a sprawled defender, electrifying the crowd and catapulting yourself into the hearts of football fans and Heisman voters everywhere. You take off your athletic tape and pads and plop down on your sofa, eager to watch the talking heads on ESPN fawn over you for hours on end, and see: absolutely nothing. Devastation.

But you persevere, and gradually a grassroots movement develops on the internet to make a big deal about your spectacular achievement. Things are going pretty well... that is, until disaster strikes. You see, now that we've been able to re-watch the play, it turns out Moreno's accomplishment wasn't even the most impressive thing that happened on that play. If you watch in super-slow motion, you can see Michigan running back Sam McGuffie catapulting over both Moreno and the CMU tackler.

A legend falls from grace.

The Hangover: SDSU

We're really starting to empathize with the Notre Dame Fighting Irish this morning. Gradually bringing ourselves to a normal level of hydration, wandering around the city like some silent monk to restore our voice for Monday, we have to think that the players are feeling the same way right now. Saturday afternoon was like waking up from the bender that was 2007 and immediately trying to do long division. And even though we aren't exactly physically prepared to make the necessary critiques of the game itself, we're not in the most optimistic of places. In preparation for next week's Michigan game, we are heading to the local liquor castle for the following in massive quantities: Rum. Ice.

Just when we thought we were out... They pull us back IN.

Shhh, Don't Tell Any Michigan Fans

Allright, readers, I'm entrusting you with a big secret here. I'm going to pull a very expensive prank tomorrow, but I want to let you guys in on it so it'll be that much more hilarious. See, I'm chartering a private jet, at my own expense, to fly from Willow Run Airport in Ypsilanti to Seattle. While this might seem like a waste of several thousand dollars to you, just imagine what a riot it will be when Go Blue Wolverine reports "Willingham to Michigan: Done Deal" and cites my FlightTracker map as proof.

Mum's the word, okay?

Yarrrr, What Be a Pirate's Favorite Football Team?

A lot of people are making fun of Les Miles for this flub that he made during a press conference, showing off his awesome Michigan education by not knowing how to pronounce the state directly north of the one he lives in. But hey, Les, it's not all that bad. It's an honest mistake that I'm sure all of us have made at one point or another.

So, in the interest of setting the record straight for everyone so that there are no more embarrassing mistakes, here's the House Rock Built's definitive guide to state pronunciation. If any Michigan students are reading, pay close attention, because this course is worth 3 credits toward a Kinesiology major.

Are-Can-Saw:



Arrr-Kansas:

Stanford Unveils a New Fight Song, Penned by Jim Harbaugh

As the final seconds ticked off the clock in the Colosseum, a new era dawned for Stanford football. Against all odds, the gutty Cardinal went toe-to-toe with one of the dynasty of our era, on their home turf, and prevailed. Nobody saw it coming, nobody expected it, and the pristine beauty of the upset is far beyond anything you could script.

That being said, I think that Stanford has gotten a little bit drunk with success after one fortuitous game. While this is an impressive start for former Michigan quarterback Jim Harbaugh's coaching career, I personally think it's a bit early to be anointing him the greatest coach of all time. In light of that, I'm even more surprised that Stanford granted him license to rewrite their fight song. Granted, their old one wasn't all that good to begin with (as a matter of fact, I have no idea what it is, and I've seen Stanford play about a half dozen times), but it's strange to completely throw out tradition after one good game.

"I wanted to come up with a song that combined the rich tradition of football and victory with the top-crust academics that are available at Stanford as opposed to that illiterate cesspool in Ann Arbor. I'm quite pleased with the results," Harbaugh said at the press release.

Anyway, here's the new, updated Stanford fight song. The music and lyrics were written and performed by the coach himself. Personally? I think it's a little... weird. You be the judge, though. Presenting, for the first time ever, the Stanford π-ght Song!

Download the Stanford π-ght Song

Sliding Doors

Just outside of Battle Creek, MI, my friend in the passenger seat turned to me and asked if I wanted a cookie. I mulled the decision for a few seconds, quickly calculating the positives and negatives of the decision. I froze for a second, as I found myself exactly 50/50 on whether or not to accept said cookie. I did a mental coinflip and elected to decline the cookie.

Five hours later, I yelled "fuck" at Michigan Stadium.

---

It's strange how one decision, which seemed so inconsequential at the time, can set into motion a chain of events that could in no way be anticipated. It's only in the harsh hindsight that I realized that my embarassing outburst was not in any way under my control, but rather the final domino in a long, bizarre Rube Goldberg-esque mousetrap machine that I was a small, completely unwitting participant in. Let me unfurl this contraption for your amusement:



First of all, it's important to realize this wasn't just any cookie I was offered. It was a fancy individually-wrapped cookie sent to my friend by a law firm he interviewed with in a care package to bribe him into taking the job. The winner of the 2007 World Cookie Championship award (according to the sticker on the label), this cookie was a 500-calorie chocolate-chippety bastard oozing with caramel, oatmeal, and chunks of delicious lard, which I found out as I wolfed it down the next morning to chase away my blazing hangover from my post-game efforts to drink away the afternoon. Now, I don't know about you, but a 500 calorie cookie is a hearty meal for a person like myself, and would have most assuredly slaked my hunger well into the evening, had I elected to consume it. Instead, I went into Ann Arbor with an empty stomach.

A few hours after the offer on the road in Battle Creek, I landed in Ann Arbor, prepared for a very sarcastic and certainlly unfulfilling afternoon of football. I availed myself of some Sangria at a tailgate, tracked down my tickets, and then worked my way over to the remote stage for WAAM to do an interview with Brian Cook and Jim Walsh about Here Come the Irish and Hail to the Victors. After a lighthearted chat with the local radio, I found myself in possession of a VIP pass for WAAM's tailgate. With kickoff quickly approaching and one more ticket to pick up, I found myself in a bit of a time crunch. I again was confronted with a choice: hit up the hospitality tent and grab a bratwurst or head over to the portable toilet and expel some urine. Seeing that there was a line about six or eight people long at the toilet, I decided I only had time to do one, and, due to my refusal of the cookie, hunger was rapidly becoming a top priority. Having no other choice, I loaded up a brat with sauerkraut and spicy mustard and decided to wait until I was inside the stadium to address my other need. I finished half the weiner before I got to the gate and pitched the rest in the trash.

Flash forward to the early third quarter. The going was rough (but I don't need to tell you that), but I was handling it like a trooper. Any sense of animosity in the section had dissipated once it became clear that this game wasn't going to be competitive, and I spent the game cracking jokes with the Michigan fans around me. My biggest cheer came late in the second quarter, where a somewhat promising drive had the Irish's total yardage rapicly closing in on 0. When our yardage hit negative-9 yards, I stood up and cheered wildly, shouting "Single digit negative, baby! Oh, yeah!" The fans around me laughed along and gave me high-fives. They also patted me on the back and reassured me when we gave up a sack on the next play and promptly droped back to double-digit negative yardage. The point is, I was handling the de-pantsing with class, grace, and a very robust sense of humor. However, at that point, my bladder had reached critical mass, and I realized I had to address the urge immediately. Not being too let down by missing some gametime, I headed down to the toilets to take care of business and save myself a few minutes of watching the atrocity on the field.

As I reached the concourse, I was stunned whan I saw the restroom. There wasn't a line for the men's room, per se, but an amorphous blob of antsy dudes tap-dancing with bladder fatigue about 25 deep and 10 broad. I walked to the other end of the stadium and saw an even larger line at the other restroom, so I dubiously returned to the line of something like 250 people and waited patiently to do my duty. I somehow survived the ordeal without making a mess of myself and strolled out of the men's room about 20 minutes after I had left my seat. No worries, since I hadn't missed anything eventful on the field, but still an aggravating hassle. Nevertheless, my spirits were still high and I was resolved to make it to the end without losing my cool. I went back to my section and saw a line of about 20 people waiting to get into the aisle to work their way toward the seats. At this point, the last thing I wanted to do was wait in another line, particularly for something that... you know, it doesn't make any sense for there to be a line for. It was at that moment that I spotted some fans walking by with a Domino's pizza box. Having only a half a bratwurst (and no cookie) in my system and very low morale, I realized that some pizza would do wonders in lifting my spirits, and worked my way down the hill (I had to jump a fence to bypass the crowd, but it was a short, managable hop) and grab some 'za.

"Two slices of pepperoni," I said, carefully extracting $4 from my wallet.

"Sorry, sir," replied the person at the counter. "We just sold our last slice."

You know the vertigo effect? You know, in Hitchcock movies where the camera pans in and zooms out on a person's face really rapidly, usually accompanied by shrieking horror music?



Yeah, so that happened. The world went black, my pupils dilated, my fists clenched, and I suddenly became bathed in a frigid sweat. I blacked out, but when I came to a few seconds later, I could hear words reverberating in my ears in my voice:

"Man, FUCK this place!"


Ohhhhh.... ffffffffuuuuuuuudddge!

---

I feel bad that I did it, and I feel bad because there were probably some impressionable young kids in earshot of my outburst. And while I'll take full responsibility for what I did, I think it's important for everyone to know that I had no control over it. The entire, unavoidable, fatalistic machine had been set into motion six hours ago and 100 miles away when I decided not to take the cookie.

Let this be a warning to all of you. In the future, whenever you're offered a cookie, think of the children and take it. We're all in this together, I'm pulling for you.

Off To The Whore!

Hey, skaters. I'm off to that filthy trollop known as Ann Arbor to watch what maybe, possibly, probably not be the Irish's first victory of the year. Nevertheless, I'll try and bring the hate, root on our boys, and discreetly defecate on a variety of campus landmarks. If any of you lost souls will be out there, you're more than welcome to toss a beer with me. Just look for the guy wearing this shirt:

Win or lose, it will still be true...

If you're jealous of my dashing shirt, which you should be, fret not, brother! You can have your own by jaunting over to the HRB shirt store.

For those text-messaging types, the HRB hotline will be wide open on my iPhone during the game. Just shoot an IM to "applesaucechoke" (it's the only HRB-related screen name I could find that wasn't already registered. Thanks, Valenti.) with your in-game observations and whatnot. I'll be surrounded by Michigan grad students, so any company I can get would be much appreciated.

Peace out. Onward to... uh, solvency.

Blogjammin': A Grimly Satisfying Evening With mgoblog

It's Michigan week, so you know what that means. It's time for me to don my traditional Mexican Wrestling mask and unitard and grapple with Brian Cook, the twisted puppet master at mgoblog. We try to be civil in our sparring matches, but once the ring gets filled with tapioca and the wrasslin' commences, it's kill or be killed out there.

Here's part one of our scintilating conversation, where we grapple with important topics like bratwurst made out of sex, world-destroying battles of übermensch punter-gods, the new Big 10 Morse Code Network, sushi on naked women, the sheer massivness of Ryan Mallett, and, occasionally, college football. Part two is over at mgo, here, so you can continue to soak up the madness over there. I'm gonna have a beer and a Vicodin, cause Cook eye-gouges and fishhooks like a crazy motherfucker. I'm in bold, he's in blue.

---

Fightinamish: You ready to tussle?

Brian Cook: Allright, I'm ready. I was finishing up my awesomely fun UFR for Oregon.

Lucky you!

It was awesome. I felt like I was having an ice cream cone made out of sex and brautwurst.

In South Bend they call that a "Charlie Weis". It costs $1.19 at most convenience stores. Cheese is extra.

Irish Cheddar, probably.

It's good stuff.

So should we start this thing?

Let's do it to it. So, right.  Watching the first half of the Oregon game, I kept thinking to myself that the entire Michigan team needs to, I don't know, see a therapist or something.  They look like a complete wreck psychologically.  Do you see the unraveling against Oregon as a direct effect of the loss the week before?

Well... insofar as the loss the week before indicated that our defense sucked, yes. Michigan has always had tons of trouble with spread option attacks until last year, Ohio State nonwithstanding, and that returned with a vengance for three simple reasons: our defensive line is bad, our linebackers are bad, and our secondary is bad. The rest of the implosion was bad luck (seriously: you put in a guy for one carry and he fumbles?) and Henne playing poorly. Oh, and our offensive coordinator being bad at life.

There's something to be said about healthy coping mechanisms.

So, more to the point, does Michigan actually suck or are they actually that top five team under some bizarre voodoo curse that will disappear once they drink the blood of a virgin... like a Catholic priest?

The defense actually sucks. The really sad thing about the Appalachian State game is that there was precious little trickery in their gameplan. They ran the same shotgun zone read handoff 21 times and gashed Michigan with it time and again. Against Oregon they were befuddled. The offense has a chance to be decent, though. They racked up a bunch of yards on both teams and only didn't score on Oregon because of a bunch of somewhat fluky turnovers and some cowardly offensive coordinating. The latter probably won't change but the former should. The offensive line has been pretty good so far, albeit against sketchy competition, and the run game has been good.

This matchup of Irish offense versus Michigan defense should be pretty hilarious.  What happens when the infinitely-resistable force meets the infinitely-movable object?

In this particular instance I think maybe the movable object? That offensive line seems to be the weakest unit amongst many, many weak units in this particular matchup, and one of the few moderately good performers the first couple weeks have  been Shawn Crable and Tim Jamison. Against a more conventional attack -- assuming Demetrius Jones doesn't make an appearance -- they should be more effective. Maybe. I hesitate to say anything positive about this Michigan team.

All hail Zoltan, our benevolent Space Emperor.

Except about Zoltan. Who is frickin' awesome.

He punted six Oregon guys to death last week.

And yet he is benevolent

If you bring him goulash, yes.

I'll be sure to prepare an offering.  He likes it served in the skull of his enemy, right?

Or upon the body of his newly acquired concubines. Like that sushi in Rising Sun.

Mmmm... fishy.  I say in the interest of saving both teams the humiliation of actually playing a game, we just have Geoff Price and Zoltan wrestle at midfield.  At the very least, it'll be letting the best players decide the game.

I would be up for that. At the very least we could get out of there in time to watch teams with, like, victories to their credit.

I take that back. Such an epic duel would probably take 77 years and 77 days.

And would probably destroy several surrounding villages. Millions would be homeless.


A village ten miles from the epicenter of the last Zoltan-Price fight that was completely leveled by the tremendous sonic boom.

And they would eat bears every once in a while

They've fought once before. Astronomers now refer to it as "The Big Bang".

We should totally set this up.

Severe danger of a punt knocking out a DirecTV satellite, though. And then what will the Big Ten Network do?

Late field goal block by App State, stop. Upset of century, stop. Pandemonium on the streets of Ann Arbor, stop.

Big Ten Morse Code.  Call your telegraph provider today and demand it for free!

Given the way the Appalachian State game turned out, that would do huge business in Michigan.

So... anyway. Jimmy Clausen: best swing-passing quarterback ever? How did you evaluate his starting debut? I was obviously a little underwhelmed.

It's obviously hard to make any judgment when your quarterback is either getting his head bashed in, handing the ball off for a negative gain, or throwing a swing pass.  With the combination of a clown car of offensive linemen in front of him and a pee-wee football playbook, it's a little early to make any judgment, positive or negative, about the wonderkid.  Of course, that hasn't stopped Irish fans and bloggers from raving about his "poise" and "composure".  I think a lot of that is reading a bit too much into the tea leaves.

That being said, I liked what I saw when he let the ball loose downfield.  The long pass to Parris where he scrambled out of certain death and threw a strike across his body on the run was a glimpse at what it is that made everyone drool over this kid in high school.  He also gets bonus points for walking out of Beaver Stadium without urine stains on his pants.  If that's not "poise", you tell me what is.

I don't want to make it seem like I'm writing the kid off, but I did think the whole poise thing was overrated. Several times he sat in the pocket until snowed under, taking an unnecessary -- but poised -- sack. Mallett, meanwhile, spent the second half of the Oregon game trying to friggin' kill his receivers by throwing it through their necks. Oh, and throwing balls 60 yards downfield. He was a little caffienated.

Only 60 yards?  That's a dump-off.  You're lucky he didn't throw it into Lake Huron

He looked a little pissed that the coaches were reining him in by not calling any of the routes that ended in Jackson.

Also tall. Pissed and tall.

He is big.  His legs are so long that he has two sets of knees.

He's Robot Paul Bunyan.

That's not a helmet he's wearing... it's an aquarium with wings painted on it.

I... what?

Ryan Mallett's customized helmet. Get it.. cause, like, he's got a big head and... nevermind.

Uh, he's big.  So big that it paralyzes the goofy metaphor region of my brain

Yeah, well, Clausen's so pointy he's, like, bad at football.

Take that.

Fatality.

Anyway, aside from being big and having the ability to throw the ball into another time zone, do you see him turning into a real quarterback while he's spelling Henne or is he still a ways off from being anything but a sideshow freak?

Can I retract something? I called Clausen "the kid". This is obviously incorrect. He's older than Greg Oden.

Clausen, Oden, and Muddy Waters all shared an apartment in Biloxi back in 1931.

I read that somewhere.


Actually, it wasn't an apartment... it was a tent in a shantytown. It was the Great Depression, of course.

Re: Mallett. I don't know. I was initially unimpressed by his debut, but when I went  back and reviewed the tape it looked like he threw a lot of balls that were accurate but, as mentioned, were thrown a million miles an hour into his receivers necks and were therefore dropped. The interception was going to be between Manningham's numbers on a post but Manningham fell down and deflected it upwards. Several of his incompletions were ridiculous longballs into coverage that Michigan was just throwing because it was third and very long and those were safe throws. Michigan obviously coddled him, running a lot, but also let him throw a surprising amount of stuff in between the hashmarks. I think there's a potential for effectiveness on Saturday.

There is also a fairly high probability of a couple interceptions.

But by god they will be really *moving* when they're picked off.

Go ahead and intercept my "broken metatarsal special"... if you dare.

Wait, Google reveals I mean to say "metacarpal"... not that any of our readers would ever find that out.

No problem. Mallett throws it so hard that when it hits your hands it breaks your foot.

---

Whoo, doggy. That's some good stuff. You can read the thrilling conclusion here, if you dare.

"Sarcastic College Football Gameday" To Broadcast Live From Ann Arbor on Saturday

The newest program in ESPN's ever-expanding litany of college football shows will make its series premiere this weekend at one of college football's most hallowed venues, Ann Arbor. The show is called "Sarcastic College Football Gameday", or SCFG for you text-messaging types, and is a weekly, floating-venue live broadcast intended to capture the all-important irony-loving hipster demographic by, paradoxically, spotlighting the most absurdly unimportant game of the week.

"With all of the success of the non-ironic College Football Gameday, it's a natural step to capitalize on the flipside of the market," said ESPN2 spokesperson Tad Beecher. "For every hyperkinetic, frenzied college football crowd going crazy with anticipation for an important rivalry game, there are just as many wholly dejected fanbases paralyzing themselves with alcohol in the parking lot before a game in anticipation of a three hour, mouth-agape gutpunch in a thoroughly-meaningless pillowfight.

"It's about time that we acknowledge those fans too and deliver programming catered specifically for those dejected souls whacked out on the sweet morphine of low expectations."

Sarcastic Gameday's traveling crew: Chip Caray, Fisher DeBerry, and Eric Crouch preview the day's action in front of a tepid and dreary Michigan crowd.

The venue for the inagural show is nothing if not fitting, as nothing quite says "ironic spectacle" like two of college football's most storied football programs meeting winless, unranked, and in nigh-absolute shambles. Throw in the fact that tickets for the game were selling at an average of $696 in the preseason and are now being used by thrifty vagrants as tindling and you've created the perfect storm of hilarious, eye-rolling absurdity.

Hosting the show will re-tread broadcaster Chip Caray, coaching burnout and media lightning rod Fisher DeBerry, and "Where are they now?" white option quarterback Eric Crouch, who form a hapless band of ultra-ironic døpplegangers for the flagship show. For now, the show is sponsored by IKEA, but many have accused the the understated "hipness" of the Swedish furniture company of undercutting the true irony of the show, or even worse of breaking down the fourth wall with a proverbial meta-ironic wink at the audience.

"It's a treat to get to kick off the show in such a terrific venue like the Big House," said Carey, demonstrating a tremendous amount of professionalism by delivering the line without any hint of a sarcastic grin. "These are two great college football teams and two great fanbases. There's going to be an electricity in the air that will be nothing short of amazing.

"And I'm, like, literally not completely talking out of my ass right now," he added before finally giving in to a long-stifled chuckle.

Fun With Screen Captures!

Here's one funny screen capture and one sad and depressing screen capture I took this weekend. First, the comedy. It appears that Yahoo has been paying attention to mgoblog in an effort to streamline their targeted marketing plan. As I checked the box score at halftime of the Michigan-Oregon game, I couldn't help but laugh at the contextual ad that they placed next to the score, which was clearly an ingenious marketing strategy for down-and-out Wolverine fans looking for some solace:

Kittens!

The second, much more tragic screencap I took was the final box score for the Penn State game, where the poor intern running the page had the dubious task of picking a "top performer" for the Irish. Either ironically or out of some sort of desperation, here's what he or she came up with:


Put it up for 1.37 yards per carry. Woop!

The House Rock Built is Deep Undercover

Well, ladies, it's football season, so it's time for The House Rock Built to emerge from his watery lair at the bottom of the swamp and entertain you kiddos for another fantastic football season. My first assignment? A dangerous secret mission deep in the heart of enemy territory. That's right, clones, The House Rock built is currently holed up in a hotel in none other than Ann Arbor, Michigan. But don't worry, readers, I made sure I was up to date on my immunizations before I stepped foot in this lovely hamlet (she is a whore, you know...)

A routine business trip put your enterprising editor right in the belly of the beast, and so far the subterfuge is going well. So far I've hoisted some pints with mgoblog at the local speak-easy, gave a loving vaffangulo gesture to the Big House as I drove by, impregnated several Wolverine co-eds, and, most importantly, I'm currently in the process of getting my smoking room at the Holiday Inn Express condemned by plowing through three packs of Parliament lights while blogging. I'm doing this for all of you. You're very welcome.

Anyway, so far I've survived. Any requests for specific defacement of the Michigan campus can be made in the comments. I can't promise I'll get to all of them (I can only muster up so many deuces, dammit. I'm not a machine), but I'll give it my best shot.