When A Season Accomplishes Full Free Fall

I've never written about Notre Dame football as much as this season. It's not a matter of piling on a WE SUCK! bandwagon; the epic badness of it all just fascinates me-- and wraps me like a well-known, beat-up blanket. You are reading the words of a person who grew up in Cincinnati. Losing records go for seasons and seasons. They are as a brithright; we develop sports fortitude in the womb. This is hunker time, people. Behold me, hunkering. I know. It isn't pretty. But then, let us consider our average yardage per rush. I could throw the offensive line further.

Today I went so far as to bust out the Weepy Pianoy Alum Music, and I think it's because in times of hunker, we return to our roots. We need to fetalize for a while at home base. It's when we need one another the most. You don't run and you don't lie to yourselves or others. You can drink, but you can't hide.

Oh, and someone please tell Phil Simms to stop holding his microphone like a great big woman. That would make it all easier to bear.

hunker, boys, hunker at: mbe@drinktothelasses.com