The Weekend Eudemon

Are you ready to rumble?

Michigan is, as is Ohio. It's the day of "The Game." Michigan is ranked 17th and OSU 9th. It's not the greatest match-up of the year, but it's still the country's biggest game.

I've always been jealous of the pageantry and passion of the Southeast Conference (my favorite conference, after the Big Ten). When I visited my brother in Mississippi a few years ago, I went to Oxford and Starkville and tried to get into their football stadiums. It was spring, but I wanted to get a feel for the electricity that fills those places on fall Saturdays. I can't imagine what it'd be like to be in LSU, Tennessee, or Florida when Alabama comes to town.

Actually, I can. Because I've been to a UM/OSU game. It's electrical, magic, surreal, and every cliche in-between.

I won't try to describe it, but 100 years of tradition and the hatred that has occasionally fueled this rivalry lives on the streets of Ann Arbor all weekend. The streets from downtown to the stadium are packed, with ticket-holders and non, the latter just wanting to be part of the scene.

The best part is Ohio's passion. Michigan has big rivalries with Notre Dame and MSU. Neither are as big as OSU, but UM fans get geared up three times a year, so it takes a little of the edge off. Not so OSU. This is their game and they live for it all year. All the emotion gets bottled up for twelve months and explodes on this Saturday. It's sometimes hate-filled (more than one UM fan has been accosted in Columbus, and I can honestly say I've never heard of similar things happening to OSU fans in Ann Arbor), but mostly it's just intense, all Buckeyes focused on "The Game."

OSU is a three-point favorite, OSU is one of the top teams in the country (they should've beaten Texas), OSU has been steamrollin' opponents. Michigan has had its most disappointing season ten years.

But I'm feeling strangely optimistic.

Malcolm's Messages (What's this?)
Chapter 6: Malcolm and the Juggler

One day Malcolm, by mere chance, came hours after noontide, as the Great Light prepared to descend in the sky. He saw the juggler there. Malcolm realized that the juggler had left when Malcolm came that first noontide and he hadn't seen him since.

Malcolm watched the juggler juggle seven black balls. Many of Malcolm's listeners watched the juggler, fascinated.

Malcolm quickly sat on the stone bench. He was weak and dizzy. He feared the black balls. And he feared the juggler, though he pitied him, too. For the juggler thought he controlled the black balls, but Malcolm knew that they controlled him. They commanded every bit of his power and attention. He knew that the juggler was smitten with them and had become their tool.

And he could see that the black balls used the juggler to kill the good seeds Malcolm had been sewing at noontide. The juggler had been coming to the assembly after Malcolm left at noontide, there to undo Malcolm's good. Malcolm could see the corruption in the face of his listeners.

Malcolm was ashamed at his ignorance and realized that the Berserker had tricked his way past the Four Sentinels and filled him with vanity. His success at the lunch place was weak and tenuous, but he couldn't see it.

Malcolm sat on the bench. Knowing he must fight the black balls, but feeling himself attracted to them. He knew he must oppose the juggler, but the juggler looked like a fine man, hardly the type to be attacked. Indeed, Malcolm wanted to be his friend.