Sleeping Wake

After seeing Inception last night, I'm inclined to think that everything is a dream. Let's say it is. It might be. It certainly has the form of it. The contours and edges of what is happening now could be those of a dream only with inherent specificity.

I find myself on a couch, eating Skittles. The year is 1998, but only barely. It is a year to the day of the Alabama game. How did I get there?

The beginning of the campaign is vague, and if the path is tread, from the moment on the couch to the beginning, one would descend into increasingly muddied waters, like a plane rising into a city of clouds, the ground obscured so that the clouds are the ground and you don't know where you are. You could be anywhere. Let's try and think, just to see what comes up.

It all began with an upset. The last time they came to town, they came and almost left in defeat. Almost and yet they didn't, riding back from where they came into the blood red sunset. Shock and awe; a strike, and they're gone.



This time was different.

We won, and with such vigor and force that we redefined the meaning of victory, so that, having experienced it, truly knew what it meant again. In retrospect, from what I remember of it, it was something so great that it defies me now, as if it was too good to be true. Let's keep going further.

After a sacrificial lamb (i.e., Baylor), in come the Irish. We practically begged Notre Dame to win the game, pleaded. At least, it seemed that way. Three fumbles in our own territory in the 4th quarter, and yet the defense held each time. They were impenetrable, their will indomitable. More than anything that happened on the field, I remember Lloyd, flailing wildly, a smile on his face. It was a different time, a different Lloyd, like a strange stand-in stunt double projection, something fictional. The Lloyd we all know, the one I know, is the endearing, crotchety man who told reporters outright that their questions were stupid. So it goes.

Time moves on. Indiana, Northwestern; Iowa with a scare. Things then start to come together. Michigan State comes into the dream, insolent and loud, conscious of its own self in relation to Michigan; painfully conscious. In short:

Young Charles Woodson, the one I will remember (not the professional imposter wearing colors that were chosen for him), defied the Fundamental Theory of What Is Possible. I remember him soar into the air, as if climbing some invisible ladder of diaphanous threads, to pull that ball from the air as if he meant to pull the planets from their orbits in one omniscient swoop, leaving a wake of maize and blue photons and nonsensical light, the type you might see if you close your eyes and push against your lids with the tips of your fingers. It is a moment to what was, and what can be. Football, indeed, is a team sport, but individual brilliance cannot be denied.


The image grows stronger as we move forward through this dream world, this dream season.


 


Penn State; the memories become more vivid, more concrete. I still don't remember everything--the plays, formations, the bedlam--but I remember that we were going to a dark place where we were expected to come out bloodied and defeated, like the troops in Blood Meridian, entering a hellish valley of a macabre aspect, foreboding dripping out of every part of the landscape, waiting to be ambushed by the Apaches. I went to Happy Valley for the game in 2008, and can thus only imagine the circumstances. A cold, unwelcoming place, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The year is 1997, but it could've been any year, it could've been anywhere. If college football is a stage, then this was Shakespeare; somebody would emerge victorious, and somebody would not. Exeunt.

It was us who emerged from that strange valley, victorious; nay, triumphant. 34-8; destruction and sound and unadulterated painted the sky as we enforced our will on them, as Keith Jackson cracked jokes about Little Brian runnin' from Dad as a boy. Outback Bowl Brian was no more; a figment of the past.

We rode home with the spoils of war; a shiny new ranking. We geared up for another trip away from home, only this time we went West. Onward, to Madison. Again, we emerged the victor, only this time by ten. I remember, after the game, walking in some parking lot, somewhere. The rain coated the ground and the lights from the halogen lamps bounced off the blacktop like a hall of mirrors. I remember thinking how we only won by ten, worried, if we were going to win next week. There were more reasons than one for that worry. Next week was the week of The Game. Even then, having been alive only 8 years, I knew this game would be important, never mind the national championship implications.

And again, Young Woodson bursts out of our subconscious because he cannot be contained by mere abstractions. Woodson wasn't an exceptional punt returner...and before anyone had time to finish that thought:



The talk of the "priceless punter" only adds to the absurdity of it all. It was the second quarter, and although Ohio State eventually made it a game, the game was essentially over. Woodson had one last trick up his sleeve. The only games that even approach this one with regards to the number of times I have rewatched them at 3:40 in the morning with the lights turned off and my heart pumping like it was happening live, like it was really happening, are, maybe, the Alabama Orange Bowl--the emergence of #10--and the 2003 Ohio State game. Even so, the 1997 version of The Game still retains a kingly status in every part of my being, conscious or otherwise, that I cannot help but trace everything that has happened since to that point. Because, once you reach the apex, there is nowhere to go but back down, down amongst the normal, the mundane; the mediocre.

But look, we're back to where we started. The couch, and it is 1998 now. The sweetness of the Skittles. I distinctly remember the Skittles, but maybe that is just a metaphor for what was to come; the sweetness, that is. Or, maybe, I'm just imagining that. Anyway. The game raged on; we fell behind; we came back; we kept what we had regained; we struggled in the end; a final shot, but no; the time runs out. Two seconds, gone. In the world of Michigan football there exists a vortex of Lost and Gained seconds, from which we have drawn so sparingly to bring about our way of life. 2005; Lloyd asks for two seconds to be put back on the clock, and we win the game on a play with one second left. 1998; Ryan Leaf tries to spike the ball with two seconds left, but the clock runs out, and we escape yet another Kordell-ian tragedy. Where did those two seconds go? You know darn well where they went.



Remember, always remember, that there always exists another side:




Often things are given and taken away. "This game was stolen from the Michigan Wolverines."

And so, for now, we take a break. The dream isn't over yet; much remains to be explored. The world of memory parallels the state of cartography in Medieval Times; both are defined by imprecision, and, quite frankly, confusion. Before September 4th--before we burn those boats--let's keep exploring. Sometimes it will be easy to mine the past for answers, for explanations (not even that, for nothing can be expected to explain the shape of memories, nothing can be reasonably expected to expertly reconcile memories, crypto-dreams, with reality, with the ever-moving Present and what it entails; that is, that there is never enough time to really sit and think about why everything has converged the way it has upon this locus in the continuum of history, and, put simply, that we can never really know), for sketches of sketches of explanations--shadows--of what was and what will be. Sometimes, it will not be so easy, when we realize our emotions and our understanding of the facts and history in general don't always meet.

But, we can always try.

Memory

One of my first memories from the primordial, untapped database of memory, a monoloithic entity filed away under the name "Michigan Pre-1997" in my brain is the Michigan-Alabama Outback Bowl played on the first day of 1997. I remember little of it. I don't remember who anyone was, specifically. I remember that there was a Michigan and an Alabama, and that they were playing each other in a game of which the importance I wasn't sure of. I vaguely remember Brian Griese, and even that is only a vague and fleeting memory, a substance that vanishes when exposed to the air, a thing that cannot subsist in and of itself and only by the progression of time and the happenings of the 1997 season does that game mean anything to me at this point in time. That game was the bridge between the vast Sahara of 8-4 and the incandescent, shining glory of pure, unadulerated--and dominant--winning.

I've seen videos, footage of the games that happened before I began to pay attention in the way that I do now. I've spent much of my life catching up, in a sense, because so much has indeed happened. I was born days after Bo's last bowl win, and yet everything I know about that win is after-the-fact and seemingly tenuous, the type of thing that, without having experienced it directly almost loses the very fact of its existence. It is the type of thing that results in crazy looks and curiosity as to why you care so dang much, when you talk about it years later as if the tire marks on the road of history's progress are still fresh from the trampling ruckus that occurred on that field--January 1st 1997.

Even as I try to flesh out that memory now, I can find very little. It seems that maybe it doesn't exist after all. Maybe it was all a dream; an odd, Kafkaesque notion of bumbling mediocrity, of flailing and gnashing in the dark and trying, trying so hard but failing. What I did find is plain and sadly historical in tone, set against a monotonous, droning white background, covered with words that ring hollow in retrospect.

"I don't know if the tight end got jammed on the line or what, but Brian made a mistake," Michigan coach Lloyd Carr said. "We needed three points there and when they blitzed we expected them to blitz. Brian pumped a couple of times and made a bad throw."

Mistake. Expected. Bad throw. The relevant points. So simple and whittled away to the bare essence that it verges on the border of verisimilitude. And that's all I really remember. An interception and a return. A failure and another piled on top of it like a totem pole with vicious, frightening faces piled up so high and glaring down at you like a monster of epic proportions. That's all that game was; a pick 6. Sure, it was only 10-6 in Alabama's favor at that point with time to spare, but that doesn't matter because I didn't know that  at that time and don't remember that. It is different know because I know everything about Michigan football, generally, as it happens, and because my memory is stronger and more capable of concrete formations of memory, things become less quixotic in a way. Things now happen and they happen in a specific way; I see them happening. A miscommunicated call against Indiana leads to an 85-yard touchdown. Shoddy safety plays lets an Iowa tight end run rough shod through the middle of the field to the endzone, unimpeded. A blocker takes the outside rusher and not the inside. Those are not simply mistakes anymore. They are strategic failures, failures of talent, failures of whatever else one can reasonably fail at.

Brian's pick 6 was just a mistake and nothing more. The difference is, no matter how ultimately meaningless the game was, no matter how inconsequential the mistake with respect to the ultimate result and the mistake's impact on the probability of victory--no matter all that--it still means something. Because I remember it, it summarized the game as a whole, maybe even the season. Maybe even an era.

As we know, from that locus of memory, the Outback Bowl of 1997, sprung something else, similarly monolithic yet diametrically insistent upon being the other side of memory. On one end, encapsulated in amber like a Jurassic fly, exists Brian Griese, heaving a misguided pass to somebody in crimson. On the other:

I don't know what occured between the offseason following the 1996 season that produced the spectacular butterfly of 1997, but something did and it was good. Not knowing what that was, really, is perhaps better. And so, we can only ease ourselves by rocking in our chairs at night, thinking about other things. Sometimes to deny is the best modus operandi.

This is 2009. An outstretched hand, collective breathing halted for a brief, tumultuous moment, like the first crack of lightning in a dark sky, making you go oh. Perhaps the stare decisis of Michigan football, the precedent set by Brian Griese v. Everything (1997) bodes well for our man in Ann Arbor. History has proven this very supposition to be so.

Oh The Places You'll Go

You have brains in your head.



You have feet in your shoes.


You can steer yourself any direction you choose.


You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.




I'm not sure there has ever been a figure that has gone on not to play for Michigan that has, at the same time, impacted Michigan in so many ways. Impacted the fans, the current team, admissions policy, and even future recruiting. The reasons for this far-reaching swath of shake-up are unfortunate and perhaps a little self-serving. However, to those cynics that will say we only care about football, I offer only my own opinion. I am certain that many will find that they share my sentiments.

Demar Dorsey is gone. It is official. He will not be suiting up for the Wolverines this fall. Instead, he will likely return close to home, back to his roots. I can only speculate on what is going through Demar's head right now. He tried to get away from it all, the bad influences and whatever else was holding him back. He could've stuck with Florida, but he made the conscious decision to pack up his life and go to Michigan,a foreign land. He was met with resistance from shadowy entities and arbitrary numbers and reasoning. We'll likely never know exactly why Demar won't be a Wolverine, but all I know is he should be, but won't.

I don't want to get into the politics of this too much. I will say that this should have never happened at all. If Dorsey was never going to be a Wolverine, he should've known this months ago. From a management perspective, the handling of Dorsey's admission to the UofM shows a significant lack of oversight and an absurd disconnect between RR and whoever was in charge of giving the proverbial green light. Any way you look at it, this reflects badly on Michigan. I'm obviously not saying that we should admit anybody simply for the fact that they've got 4.4 speed and uncanny instincts and hitting ability. I admire the fact that in the amateur sports landscape, where mercenaries are treated as legends because they know "what it takes to win." Even if Michigan wants to impose arbitrary academic requirements that exceed the NCAA's (and, for the record, I don't even know by how much said requirements exceed the NCAA's), this is a sad day.

It's easy for us to sit here and put on sad faces because many people's favorite recruit was denied admission. Yes, he would've likely challenged for significant playing time THIS YEAR. At the same time, we brought in a number of talented athletes, especially in the secondary, and, as we all know, no recruit is a "can't miss."

You’ll look up and down streets. Look’em over with care. About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.” With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.


No, this fiasco is deeper than football. I truly feel sorry for the guy. He's never going to play for my team, and I will likely never meet him or get the chance to talk to him. If I did have the chance, I would tell him that he deserved better. I would tell him that the fact that he thought highly enough of Michigan to pick us will make him a Wolverine in my eyes, despite the fact that he'll be playing in Knoxville or Tallahassee or Baton Rouge. The fact is, this showed that you can't steer yourself in any direction you choose, that trying to change often isn't enough.

In the inchoate stages of Waka Flocka-induced hysteria, we all imagined a warrior poet safety dancing over strewn bodies in the secondary, dealing vicious hits and and making big plays with a golden smile. That, or a lockdown corner reminding us of days past, the type of player that exudes "I dare you" when he lines up across from the opponents star receiver.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
All of that seems petty now in light of the current situation. Michigan has directly altered the arc of this man's life, and while I won't go so far as to villify those involved in the decision, I will say that it is unfortunate and downright saddening.
 
You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed. You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.


Every Michigan loss is unique in its ability to create pain. This loss is entirely different from any loss on the field. Perhaps it is selfish of me to say, but I wanted Demar to turn his life around at Michigan. I wanted him to get a Michigan education and a chance to distance himself from his past at Michigan. And, yes, I wanted him to become our first elite safety in many, many years.

I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.

It's amazing how germane Dr. Seuss's words are right now. As puerile as they may seem, I hope Demar takes them to heart and moves past this injustice he's been dealt. Wherever he ends up, I plan on following his career and rooting him on, pretending that he's wearing the winged helmet. I hope that he creates more memories that he'll never forget, like that day in the auditorium on February 4th.

And will you succeed?



Yes! You will, indeed!


(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)


Demar, your mountain is waiting.

Little Boston

The times have made us crazy. We want wins, conferences titles, national titles; we want them now now now. We want the program to just start blowing gold all over the place. Sometimes it's not that easy.

Sometimes you've just got to let it all burn. Watch it billow up into the sky, marvel at its destructive power and note that such a force could only have been necessary to destroy an equally awesome structure. Watch it burn because it is the only thing you can do. Watch it carefully and calmly, letting the ashes settle so that you can finally see everything that is and everything that needs to be done to fix it. Woe is us, for now. We're all trying to drink from the same milkshake; the only certain conclusion is that, amidst the shouting, the contents of that cup containing said milkshake will find its way to the floor, decorating it in a sad display, prompting the purchase of a new milkshake without ever having even enjoyed the first one.

But don't let the flames and the smoke infiltrate your mind. We must not allow the the plumes of darkness to slither in between the synapses that allow us to make decisions that don't fill us with regret and shame.

We all want this. We all want the wins. We all want to be the favored son. We all want the major media outlets to praise Michigan while we currently despise the network's kowtowing to the Standard Oil's of the world.

That's okay. The words ring hollow now, as I say them aloud: we will be back. Say it to yourself. Say it again and again. Forget about Rich Rodriguez. Forget about 3-9 and 5-7. Forget about minor violations and lawsuits and defections and non-qualifiers and everything else. Just think about Michigan.

Whether you support him or not (and for the record, I do...but that's not the point) just think about Michigan. Think about what is good for Michigan. Think about what it could be if given time to rebuild. If we continue to raise our voices, screaming across the room, spittle and words flying like poison-tipped arrowheads, we will all become deaf.

I'm telling you to remain calm, and maybe you don't need such advice. But, if you do, listen: wait. As hard as it is to do, as unsatisfying as it may be, wait. Tune out the world if you have to, for the world is not as understanding as we would hope. The world sees numbers and headlines when we see lackluster depth charts and injuries and a coach that can do the job if given a little time, as he's proven in the past. We must retreat into The Fort and examine ourselves before we say "But what about USC?" That's not to say that we've done anything worse than USC, but, in the end, who cares about them?

I'll be honest when I say that the total sum of the Michigan fanbase worries me. The booing during the 2008 Wisconsin game was a moment that shook me. Michigan completed one of the greatest comebacks in Michigan history, and I forgot about the booing for a while. But it happened, and it still simmers under the surface, living in my subconscious like a subtle reminder that maybe things could in fact collapse. I can only imagine how the players felt. I understand that playing and watching football often involves primal, knee-jerk reactions. I've been there. After The Horror, I said some things that I wish I hadn't. But that day against Wisconsin, amongst the litany of potential reasons supporting the idea that this center cannot hold, reigns supreme; that moment, as the team ran into the locker room, showed me that even the ostensibly key jinglin', down-in-front Michigan fanbase has a little Plainview in 'em. Perhaps it was one instance that thousands of people regret today in retrospect; maybe they don't regret it at all. It's likely that many do not. I am not against criticism. But that...that was something foul, something objectionable.

Don't let the end make you crazy. Don't let the goal fray the neurons that make you sane. Absord the pangs of defeat like a haymaker to the chin. Let it sting and pain you. Allow the wounds to scar over and become immortal reminders of where we've come from. College football fandom is sadistic in this way. But it is also glorious when the time comes for it to be so.

All I know is there's oil under there somewhere. We just have to wait and be honest to ourselves and those that strive to make the program better the best way they know how. They feel like we do. Indeed, they feel more than we ever could.

Terrelle Pryor: 2010 Rose Bowl

[ed.: Not sure what happed to the right side of the last drive chart...it was fine when I checked it yesterday. Regardless, that drive was all run-out-the-clock Tresselball, so y'all aren't missing much.]


Alright, so I got bored and decided to just put this up today. I went through every offensive series that the BTN showed yesterday, primarily watching Pryor. Did he show signs of legitimate improvement in this game, and should we, as Michigan fans, be even more worried about 2010's version of The Game even more than we already might be?

Well, "improvement" is somewhat vague and subjective. Pryor will probably never put up Troy Smith-type stats through the air, and he likely won't ever have to. Even Pryor's stats in this year's Granddaddy (23-37, 266 yards, 2 TDs and 1 INT) aren't mindblowing, especially given that this performance is supposedly an indicator of things to come for Pryor. Make no mistake, Pryor had a great game; however, I'm not sure if the performance wasn't more attributable to solid offensive gameplanning and Oregon's defensive deficiencies. I'll now go through and do my best to analyze each play that the BTN showed (some were assuredly skipped over), looking at the types of passes TP was throwing, and the types of situations in which he excelled/struggled.

First Half, Drive 1

OSU 26	1st & 10	Shotgun, 1 back	A dangerous pass at the sticks that’s almost intercepted…not the best start.
26	2nd & 10	‘Gun1B, Trips right	A swing pass to Sanzenbacher goes for 4. Look for a lot of passes like this to him throughout the game.
30	3rd & 6	‘Gun1B	TP drops back and decides to take off, running through the middle of the line for 24. He comes up hobbling somewhat near the end of this play.
46	1st & 10	‘Gun1B (?)	Another short pass, this time to Posey for 4 near the right sideline.
UO 42	2nd & 6	‘Gun1B	TP hits Posey, who is running a slant on the left side. The corner is playing WAY off (sound familiar?), so the throw is relatively easy. Musberger swoons: “Terelle Pryor may be growing up right in front of us on this Rose Bowl afternoon.” We are 2:00 into the game.
UO 29	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	Flanker screen to Sanzenbacher for 7.
UO 22	2nd & 3	‘Gun1B	TP hands it off to Saine, who cuts it back up the middle for a solid 9 yards.
UO 13	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	Sanzenbacher runs a slant from the slot position, and TP quickly aims to hit him but the pass falls of #12’s fingertips. God coverage from UO’s Paysinger.
UO 13	2nd & 10	‘Gun2B (Boren and Saine)	Quick drop; TP throws a good looking ball to Posey in front left corner of the endzone. Posey drops it…this one’s on Posey.
UO 13	3rd & 10	‘Gun1B	TP drops back, finds no one, and hits the checkdown to Saine about 5 yards down the right sideline; Saine walks the tightrope and muscles his way into the endzone for 6.

1H2D

50	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	Boren and Saine on either sie of TP; TP easily sidesteps a rusher with a clean shot at him and launches a parabolic touch pass down the right sideline to Saine, who has slipped out on a wheel route, reminiscent of the same play in the 2008 BCS Title Game against LSU. Play goes for 46.
UO 4	1st & Goal	‘Gun1B	Bad snap; Pryor has trouble bringing it in and does well to get it back to the 6.
UO 6	2nd & Goal	‘Gun1B	Pryor fakes the handoff, dances up the middle for 3.
UO 3	3rd and Goal	‘Gun 1B	OSU runs what appears to be an option play. TP doesn’t seem to ever want to pitch it, which is wise as Oregon has got the pitchman covered. OSU Field Goal (OSU 10, UO 0)

1H3D

OSU 16	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	OSU runs the option play again; seemingly awkward pitch relationship, plus TP’s indecisiveness, leads to a minimal gain.
17	2nd & 9	‘Gun1B	TP drops back, begins to move around and eventually is brought down at the LOS.
17	2nd & 9	‘Gun1B	TP is sacked for a loss of 2. Sanzenbacher seems to come open across the middle right as TP begins to scramble, but TP doesn’t notice him as he is already concentrating on avoiding the swarm of UO defenders. Ducks are bringing heat.

1H4D

OSU 20	1st & 10	‘Gun2B	Pryor dumps to Herron in the middle for a modest gain.
24	2nd & 6	I-formation	Some old-school Tresselball. Herron for 4.
28	3rd & 2	‘Gun2B	Herron picks up the first as Herbie discusses UO putting 8 and 9 in the box to “test” TP. Boren leads the way for Herron, who picks up the first.
32	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	Quick pass to Sanzenbacher across the middle; decent pass, should’ve been caught but careens off of his fingertips.
32	2nd & 10	Under center, 1B	Run; Herron for 5.
36	3rd and 5	‘Gun2B	Pryor scans the field and takes off after abut a second; tackled for a gain of 1, but a personal foul penalty gives OSU the first.
UO 48	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	False start
OSU 47	1st & 15	‘Gun 1B	Pryor takes a couple steps to his right and hits Posey near the sideline.
UO 48	2nd & 11	‘Gun1B	Pryor drops back and lofts a pass with a little too much arc to Herron on a screen; loss of 1.
UO 49	3rd & 12	‘Gun2B	TP drops back, moves to his right and hits Herron who eventually slips open. Herbie notes that Pryor wants to hit Posey on the left side, but sees that he’s covered and thinks better of it.
UO 34	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	Hits Posey on the left with a quick slant (DB playing way off again)
UO 25	2nd & inches	I-form	Run up the middle; Saine picks it up.
UO 25	1st & 10	Under center, 1B	Illegal shift
UO 30	1st & 15	‘Gun 2B	Fakes sweep to Saine, avoids defender and hits Posey.
UO 20	2nd & 7	‘Gun2B	Waits and takes off for no gain. UO’s bringing pressure and TP has been forced to run often.
UO 20	3rd & 7	‘Gun1B	3-step drop and takes off, chased by several defenders. Does his standard “make everyone look like they’re running in mud” deal but comes up just short.
UO 14	4th & 1	Maryland-I	Handoff to Saine for the first. BIG TEN FOOTBALL AHH WENWONWO NQWN!!11!!1
UO 10	1st & Goal	‘Gun1B	TP drops and looks to Posey in the corner of the endzone but overshoots him.
UO 10	2nd & Goal	Empty trey	Flanker screen to Sanzenbacher. Sniffed out nicely; UO swarms and stops it for a loss of 3.
UO 13	3rd & Goal	‘Gun2B	TP sticks in the pocket for a good while and slings a dart to Posey in the middle of the endzone; he’s well-covered and the pass falls incomplete. Field goal; OSU 13, UO 10.

1H5D

UO 46 (after Homan interception: 25 seconds left in 1st half)	1st & 10	‘Gun2B	Deep drop, has all day to throw. Eventually tosses it away at the turf near Saine’s feet 5 yards downfield.
UO 46	2nd & 10	‘Gun1B	TP throws a dart near the left hash to Sanzenbacher for 18.
UO 28	1st & 10	Under center	Spike
UO 28	2nd & 10	‘Gun 2B	Feels pressure, scrambles and throws it out of bounds. :02 left; OSU opts for 3. OSU 16, UO 10.

2nd Half, 1st Drive

OSU 20	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	Hands off to Saine for 5.
24	2nd & 5	‘Gun1B	Yet another flanker screen to Sanzenbacher; picks up the first. Another “safe” throw for Pryor…
33	1st & 10	I-form	Run up the middle.
35	2nd & 8	I-form	PA rollout (to his left); TP goes deep to Posey. Throws a legitimately great ball. Only really the second deep try all game. Big gain here.
UO 29	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	PA; rolls rights to hit Sanzenbacher.
UO 24	2nd 5	I-form	Saine picks up most of it here.
UO 20	3rd & 1	I-form	Saine pounds through for the first.
UO 18	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	Zone read is stuffed by UO…at least we’re not the only ones having problems running the zone read!
UO 21	2nd & 13	‘Gun 1B	UO brings the house but TP calmly hits Sanzenbacher, who catches it then drops it after the DB takes out his legs.
UO 21	3rd & 13	‘Gun1B	Token fake, shoots for Sanzenbacher and man coverage. Sanz. runs the post, TP throws way behind him. Miscommunication? Field goal; OSU 19, UO 17.

2H2D

OSU 13	1st & 10	I-form	Saine for 5.
18	2nd & 5	I-form	Saine again for 2; Tressel reverting to old playcalling habits? (3Q ends).
20	3rd & 3	‘Gun1B	UO again brings several blitzers. TP’s pass to Sanz. falls incomplete; good coverage by the UO defensive back. OSU Punt.

2H3D

OSU 19	1st & 10	Single back, Boren offset left	Herron for 2.
21	2nd & 8	‘Gun1B	Pryor does his thing and scampers for the 1st after a DL gets his hands on him. As usual, he is too big and too fast to be taken down by arm tackles.
32	1st & 10	‘Gun1B	Herron for 1.
33	2nd & 9	‘Gun1B	PA, rolls right to hit Sanz. for 4.
37	3rd & 5	‘Gun1B	Hits Sanz. on quick slant. Good throw, but Herbie notes that Casey Matthews (yes, related to that Matthews) doesn’t get back in time after trying to show blitz pre-snap, leaving the lane open. Good throw, even if somewhat pitch-and-catch.
48	1st & 10	I-form	PA rollout right…nothing open so TP scrambles left and is caught by the shoestring for a loss.
46	2nd & 12	‘Gun1B	Another option-esque play…TP cuts it back and slips.
45	3rd & 13	‘Gun1B	Musberger mentions how quiet Ballard has been quiet all game. Of course, TP scrambles and throws up a jump ball that the 6’6’’ Ballard goes up and gets in traffic. “AND THERE’S OUR MAN BALLARD!” Indeed.
UO 31	1st & 10	Missed pre-snap as OSU picks up the pace	TP tosses incompletion, intended short for Sanz.
UO 31	2nd & 10	Under center, single back	Herron dances for 3.
UO 28	3rd & 7	‘Gun1B	Offsides on UO tackle. Facepalm. Either way, TP picked up the first with his feet.
UO 20	1st & 10	I-form	TRESSELBALL.
UO 17	2nd & 7	‘Gun2B	TP throws a beautiful pass to Posey near the front left pylon and Posey's backside shoulder. Touchdown Posey, OSU 26, UO 17.

2H4D

OSU 27	1st & 10	I-form	Tresselball for -2.
25	2nd & 12	‘Gun1B	Option; TP finally pitches it. Saine goes for a good gain.
35	3rd & 2	‘Gun1B	Option again; TP keeps it for the first.
40	1st & 10	I-form	Tressel. UO timeout.
42	2nd & 8	I form	Naked bootleg for 7.
49	3rd & 1	I-form	More Tressel. First down.
UO 49	1st & 10	I-form	Tressel.
UO 48	2nd & 9	I-form	PA bootleg to other side; TP runs for another first.
UO 36	1st & 10	I-form	Herbie talks about TP’s performance being a good indicator of things to come for OSU and how Tressel will be able to “trust” him more. Herron for 3.
UO 33	2nd & 7	Victory formation	QB Kneel. Game Over. OSU 26, UO 17.

Does all this mean anything at all?

Well, yes and no. Yes, this was arguably the best game of Pryor's career. The aforementioned numbers he put up are *insert any Texas Tech qb ever*-esque by OSU standards. The gameplan was classic Ohio State (i.e., ball control, whether via the run or the pass).

However, despite all of this, OSU only put up 26 points, 3 less than their season average. Oregon was not exactly a juggernaut on defense last year. Then again, OSU won, and that's all that matters. The deliberate, plodding style of offense that OSU employs limits opportunities to score, for either team, really. But about Pryor...

I will say that Pryor had a great game, and this post is in no way trying to discredit him or OSU's 2010 team. However, while reviewing this game, there are several obvious issues:

1) Decision time-Very few times throughout the game did TP hold on to the ball for more than a second or two; it was either quick pass or run. This tells me that Tressel perhaps simplified things, so that TP only had to look for 2, maybe even 1 receiver, before hitting the checkdown/running like heck. There's nothing wrong with this, because it worked, but I wonder if this is feasible against some of the better defensive teams in the country, especially if OSU hopes to make it back to the BCS Championship Game this year.

2) Short passes-I haven't gone back and counted, but a good majority of the passes were short ones, ten yards or less, and there were several flanker screens to Sanzenbacher. Of the 37 passes thrown, I counted only 10 that went 10+ yards (give or take a yard) in the air, and only 3 that went for 20+ (the Posey bomb, the Ballard jump ball, and the Saine wheel route). Then again, the fact that all 3 were completed is good news (for OSU, mind you).

3) Receivers-Pryor only hit Posey, Sanzenbacher, and the tailbacks (as well as the one to Ballard). It worked in this game, but if OSU faces a team with a good corner they may be in trouble (re: 2007 OSU-UF game). Take away the deep threat (i.e., Posey) and suddenly OSU could struggle, especially keeping in mind thethe lack of a superback like Beanie or an extremely accurate quarterback in Pryor. Then again, I guess that could be said about any team.

Conclusion: As frustrating as a conclusion it is to make after doing all that, I think that this game means very little in the grand scheme of things. Pryor looked great, running as well as passing. However, there's a difference between poise and Clausen-type poise...that is, hitting 4-6 yard passes is nice, but eventually teams are going to lock that up. The gameplan was crafted perfectly, and the OSU defense played as they usually do. Pyor was asked to make a quick read and run if it wasn't open, which is fine when you're up against an average defense. Against a top 10 defense, TP likely won't be able to just take off and run when his first and second options are covered. The Saine and Posey passes (the deep pass as well as the 4th Q touchdown) were all very nice passes, and TP showed consistent accuracy in the short passes as well, just as is to be expected of a D-I quarterback.

Either way, TP will be a handful for our Wolverines, regardless of how much the defense improves this season. 188 days till The Game.