We've said it a few times before but it will be said again - on rare and special occassions this blog determines it necessary to depart the wide, wide world of cinema. And this, loyal readers, is without question one of those occassions.
What happened late Saturday afternoon was the equivalent of seeing "Million Dollar Baby" for the first time. Or the same as what will happen next week on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving when I kick back to indulge in my yearly viewing of "The Myth of Fingerprints". It's as special as Ingrid Bergman's performance in "Notorious" or as brilliant as Robert Towne's screenplay for "Chinatown".
Perhaps you did not hear? Late Saturday afternoon my beloved Nebraska Cornhuskers won the Big 12 North Championship when Maurice "The Greatest Wide Receiver in the History of the Universe" Purify hauled in a pass in the corner of the end zone with a mere 21 seconds left to propel the Big Red to an epically hard-fought, heart-stopping one point victory.
(Note: This play will forever now be known simply as The Catch.)
Oh, sportswriters and know-it-all's and cynics (wait, I'm a cynic - but never mind) will whine that winning the Big 12 North (as opposed to the Big 12 South) is as much an accomplishment as the U.S. invading and taking over Nova Scotia. And this is probably true. But I care not at all. This means as much to me (and to my team) as what Donna Reed knocking off early to have a drink meant to Montgomery Clift in "From Here to Eternity".
Oh, things did not look peachy. Nebraska was down by 6 precious points and stood 75 yards away from its intended end zone with less than two minutes to play and no time-outs. Our play had been fairly putrid in the 2nd half. The crowd at Texas A&M is notoriously one of the most boistrous in the country and they were living up to their reputation. My spirit was admittedly broken. But Nebraska QB Zac Taylor strode onto the field as if he were Errol Flynn as Robin Hood striding into Prince John's castle with the deer slung over his shoulder - confident and fearless. And what he did from there on out befits the legendary Robin of Locksley.
And much like that infamous legend of Robin Hood, the tale of Nebraska's Big 12 North Championship is a tale that will grow in stature with each passing year. By the time I spin the yarn for my grandchildren it will have reached the point where Zac Taylor played with crutches on the field and Maurice Purify made The Catch with blurred vision in one eye while being covered by nine defensive backs - one of whom was hitting Purify in the knees with a sledgehammer while he went up to make The Catch.
Joy is relative. There was a time when a Big 12 North Championship would have meant diddly squat to a Nebraska fan. There was a time when a Big 12 North Championship would have simply been the first step on the path to much bigger things. Times have changed and I freely admit that. And I embrace it. Even with this championship my dear team is ranked only 22nd in the country. This morning fans of many other teams will squabble over who deserves to play for the National Title. Nebraska is not part of this discussion and does not deserve to be. But I hold my head high anyway. I am proud to the absolute utmost of that #22 ranking. And as crummy as the Big 12 North may be I am immensely proud to be the champion of it.
Sing with hearts uplifted high,
alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!
Monday, November 13, 2006
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1 comment:
its too bad you didn't hear the sad renditions of "farmers fight" and "saw the horns off" from all the dejected A&M fans walking out of the stadium. your cornhuskers broke the spirit of those dear agriculturists. oh well.
p.s. that catch was straight-up shocking.
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