2008 Week 3
September 18, 2008
First of all, I would like to apologize for the error I made last week. I wrote about the Big Ten/MAC Challenge, but I got some of the teams wrong. Marshall apparently is no longer in the MAC; a couple years ago they joined fellow their fellow Virginia powers like VPI and Western Virginia in the ACC.
Furthermore, I was incorrect to state that Notre Dame was participating in the Big Ten/MAC Challenge as a new member of the MAC. Instead, their Big Ten/MAC Challenge win over Michigan counted in the Big Ten's column. Apparently the Big Ten has finally learned to count again and sent a couple of their lesser football programs like the Wolverines packing to the MAC.
One of the most exciting games was in Tempe, as Nevada-Las Vegas came from behind to knock off the Sun Devils and take a step forward in the WAC race.
Penn State annihilated Syracuse 55-3 as the Eastern football's greatest contest, the battle for the Lambert, commenced. In spite of the result on the field, Syracuse's linebackers had more missing teeth than Penn State, so the Orange scored more points in the race for Jack Lambert's Cup.
Tennessee bombed Alabama down in Birmingham. I didn't realize that the Third Saturday in October came so early this year. Maybe we went back to the Gregorian Calendar while I wasn't paying attention. "Rocky Top" would make a great Gregorian chant.
In the biggest game of the week, Southern California destroyed Ohio State. Ole Coop's got to be feeling pretty frustrated, losing to all these southern teams.
As part of the celebration of the 40th anniversary of the Song Girls, I'd like to recognize Alice from the 1997 Song Girl team.
My good friend Herb Street took me to meet her at this mansion in LA. There was some old shaky guy mumbling about Illinois football and a bunch of young women, including Alice.
Alice was quite the athlete. I ended up playing some table tennis against her and she whupped me but good. Herb just stood off to the side, all glassy-eyed, not saying a word, utterly fascinated by her skills. Alice would just lean way back, thrust her hips, and fire that ping pong ball so fast that I didn't know what had hit me--until I realized I was down 18-2 and had 11 wet ping pong balls embedded in my chins.
I'll never forget you, Alice. Nor will my now-syphilitic chins.