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Tuesday, September 30, 2008

A Very Big Head

From Mizzourah:

With Hate Week in effect for us Missourians, the DXP crew has asked me to hop aboard and expand on my hate towards Nebraska. There are several reasons that I hate the Huskers. It's too bad that I'm only limited to five per the fine management of DXP (read: We all got really fucking wasted and neither Sammy, T. Rose, A. Rose, Jeffie Husker, Dr. D or I could remember anything past 5p, so five ended up being the number.). You've seen me lurking around DXP for the past 1 1/2 years, either talking shit, ogling chicks, or giving out brain exploders like "Is Bruce Pearl really Larry Eustachy?". Many of you may have come over to your personal darkside, Mizzourah.net, to tell me how much I suck or to throw out death threats. Cool, glad you're reading.

Let me give you the prerequisite that I lived in Omaha with 85% of DXP readers for the past three years, and my eastern Nebraska "experiences" (ie. in Lincoln) should cover at least another 11% of crazed ass Husker fans that read DXP. The other 4% probably breaks down to 3% out-of-staters and 1% of anything west of Lincoln that has a 'puter AND can read. Sorry, Alliance. I'm talking about you.

5). Tommie Frazier
This one doesn't have much to do about football. Sure, TF was a good option QB on a team full of jailbirds and assclowns, and I'm sure TF is a nice guy outside of being the huge bag of douche that he's been the five or six times I've met him. But I didn't really like him as a player, felt a little remorse for the blood clot thing, and then figured out the guy was a huge prick. Being the Omaha nightlife connosuier that I am, I've run into TF on more than one occasion trying to lay lines on a hot broad, only to succumb to the fattie friend. If he had a pair, he'd flex that "Tommie Frazier" name and yank some skanks. Oh wait, he already does let everyone know who he is every fucking five minutes. Next time, TF might want to lose the wedding band if he's hitting on some poontang. Need more Tommie Frazier-age?

4). Flea Kicker game
I'll never forget this game. I was in high school, sitting in my parents basement, trying to work one of my dad's beers out of the fridge, and Corby Jones was en fuego. Being a lifelong Mizzou fan, we hadn't seen anything close to Corby. Hell, Larry Smith hadn't seen a team like that '97 squad. Sure, we were used to getting jobbed on weird plays/calls like the infamous 5th Down against Colorado a few years earlier. It was the first time in forever that Mizzou had a good vibe going into a Nebraska game, and the fans were jacked. A booted ball later, I hate Matt Davidson, who I personally hold a grudge against to this day, solely on this game and the fact that I had to see or hear this guy every damn Saturday when I lived in Omaha or at a Creighton/Nebraska game at the 'Blatt.

I hated Scott Frost until I showed up wearing a Mizzou hat to his old bar out at Village Pointe (Letter Club). He sat down, bought me a few beers, chatted, and was a cool guy. He brought up the Flea Kicker game nine years later, and said everyone still asks him about it. I walked into that restaurant wanting to hate it, and instead, ended up there every Monday Night for MNF. Jerk owes me a ton of my money back if he and the gang couldn't keep the place open just on my bar tab.

3). Eric Crouch
The guy is an absolute fuck. He killed some sub par Mizzou teams, but that was expected. My first radio gig included covering the St. Louis Rams Training Camp, which I ended up doing for a few years for a couple of different groups. Crouch came into camp and was told he wasn't a QB, was moved to receiver, bitched and moaned until he was released and then was nabbed by the Packers and same story...WR, bitch, released. I once tried to interview him and all he talked about was how he won the Heisman.

2). "Missouri will always be Missouri"
The always stellar excuse that things never change. Unfortunately for you, things do. Actually, you, Jim Huskerfan should realize this by looking in the mirror. That "1994 National Champions" faded sweatshirt you wear around Indigo Joes should represent the faded days of Husker football, you know, when you were actually good.

Welcome to 2008. Mizzou and kU have passed you up, and Colorado is equal. The Mildcats could be if Ron Prince wasn't recruiting college dropouts, and the Fightin' Chiziks aren't laying down like a Papillion South cheerleader on prom night anymore. Many Husker fans actually see the light. All DXP writers and most DXP commenters agree- Callahan wrecked the Huskers until at least 2010. Then again, after the Solich fiasco, Steve Pederson deserved to get run out. But, I enjoyed every minute of Callahan.

1). Tom Osborne
Baby Jesus Osborne has to top the five. The guy had the balls to try to run for governor, only to get his ass handed to him. TO ran on the platform of "I am Nebraska Football and I hate porn", and failed, which seemed to be close to impossible. Maybe if he was pro-porn, or just ran on the "I wear Red" slogan, he would have won.

I was hoping that would be the last I'd have to hear about him, until...goodbye Steve Pederson. TO was brought in to be the savior, and in a senior moment, hired a coach with ZERO head coaching experience to clean up the morgue of red in Lincoln. It's sounding like I should like the guy for effing up the program for another coaching era, but then we look into the past. Osborne made the Miami programs of the late 80's and 90's look clean with some of the shit he had. Being from St. Louis, Lawrence Phillips comes to mind immediately. Especially Rams coach Rich Brooks having to bail him out of jail right after draft day if I remember correctly. All the incidents kinda get blurry- tossing girls down stairs in Lincoln, only for TO to give the "he's better in a structured environment talk", to beating chicks in a nightclub, to trying to run over some kid that punked him in a pick up game, to auto theft, to...well, you get the point. Read Jason Peter's book? Glad he cleaned up, but he was pretty messed up himself. Tom Osborne, that father figure willing to throw some gas on a burning fire of hopelessness in people.