Maize and Blueballs

(UPDATE: FUCK IT ALL. WHAT A TOTAL FUCKING ABOMINATION. Wait, fuck that. And by that I MEAN FUCK THAT. I....FUCK HIM. MY FUCKING VOICE IS RUINED, I'M DONE. I STOOD THERE IN THE FUCKING STANDS, THE COLD RAINING SAOKING MY ASS, AND I GOT UP AND SCREAMEED AND YELLED, DESPITE THE QUIET FUCKERS AROUND ME. FUCK IT ALL. COCKSUCKERS. THEY CAN GO FUCK THEMSELVES. FUCK. WHAT A FUCKING DEBACLE. FUCK IT. I DROPPED $400 TO WATCH THAT REDICULOUS PIG FUCK OF A GAME. FUCK THIS. FUCK THIS. YOU WANNA KNOW HOW I FEEL? PRETTY MUCH LIKE THIS. AT LEAST THAT'S WHAT I WAS SCREAMING AFTER THE GAME. BUT MAGNIFY IT. FUCK IT ALL.)

I flew home yesterday for Thanksgiving.

Yes, I know it's not until Thursday, but today happens to be its own holiday in my mind: it's Michigan vs. Ohio State Day. I had to fly back early for this game.

Rather than recant tales of my love for the Maize and Blue and my utter hatred of anything that comes from that cow-stench of a state south of here, I will just tell you that this game is something I both look forward to and fear every year. I think I recovered from last year's heartbreaking loss last night, just in time to wake up for the game today.

I flew home early because I wanted to see my married friends, Rock and O-Cup. They have season tickets to Michigan and tailgate every single game. They are enthusiastic about their tailgating, just one of the many reasons I love them.

I wasn't planning to go to the game. I asked every single person I knew, as well as tons of Michigan alumni, and no one knew anybody with tickets. Oh well. Tailgating near the stadium would still be fun, I thought.

Then came Wednesday night. I was at the bar, having quite a few cocktails, when I got this text message from Shortcake, a close friend of mine who attends grad school at UM.

"Hey, you going to the game?"

As I am drunk and it appears she has typed her message in Sanskrit, I ignore the text.

The next day I am sitting at my desk at work when I remember a hazy thought from the night before about Shortcake mentioning something about the game. Oh shit, I think, maybe, just maybe......

I text her back.

Me: “Why you have tickets?”

A few minutes pass

Her: “How much are you gonna give me for it if I do?”
Me, immediately: “YOU HAVE A TICKET?????”
Me, again: “One ticket or two?”
Her: “One”
Me: “Student section?”
Her: “Yes”
Her: “Make me an offer.”
Me: “How much do you want?”
Her: “I really don’t have one, just trying to make Roommate some money”
Me: “Roommate?”

Me, a little while later: “Hello? I sooo want to go”

Her: “Busy Now. Talk Later”

Fine, so I go to sleep with the small slice of hope in my head that maybe I may actually be going to my first M vs. OSU game since 1997. I dream happily that night.

The next day I wake up in suspense. No text from her.

I go to lunch. Still no text. I start to sweat like I’m in rehab.

Me: “So, you need to stop keeping me in suspense.”

A few hours pass. Not a fucking word.

Me: “You are giving me the mental equivalent of blue balls. YOU ARE GIVING ME BLUE BRAIN.”

Finally she answers.

Her: “I’m basically trying to extort money from you. Roommate may have no interest in selling. I’m asking her now. Stay tuned.”
Me: “Ugh…ok….you going?”
Her: “I don’t have a ticket.”
Me: “So, you don’t have a ticket of your own or Roommate's not willing to sell hers?”

Please please please, I think, please let this crazy hippie roommate of hers have no desire to see male gladiatorial-style combat. Please let her somehow be some crazy die hard feminist who hates all manner of male sport and somehow, for some reason just had a ticket she wants to get rid of.

Her: “Both”

[cue Price is Right loser music. Dun dun dunna….daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

Me: ".....wow....heartbreak, honestly”
Her: “I know, I tried to look out for you but I failed.”
Me: “...you never should have told me....you have no idea how high my hopes were.”
Her: “I do have an idea. I’m sorry. I can’t even watch the game if it makes you feel any better.”

Wait, what’s that? She has an idea? Like, she knows there is one more person to call? Did she remember someone that may want to give up a ticket.

Me: “What’s ur idea?!”
Her: “I meant I have an idea of how high your hopes were.”

Oh.

Me: “Wow, crushed again....just stop talking”

So, yea, I guess I'm not going to the......

NOPE. I"M GOING TO THE GAME, BITCHES!!!

Spent the better part of FRIDAY afternoon searching and scouring the planet and I FINALLY found a pair. Lil Sis and I are going and we can't fucking wait. We will be up at 6 a.m. to tailgate, and if you think there is something wrong with drinking at 7 in the morning.....you're just not trying hard enough. Can anyone say Red Bull?

Oh, and one more thing.... no matter what has happened this season or what will happen next...

GO BLUE, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!