"The Pipeline" used to mean something to Nebraskans, and it was a source of pride for Nebraskans that each and every year Nebraska would have an offensive line capable of dominating every defensive line they faced. When I first started truly following the Huskers in the early 1990s, I really had no idea that I would see the last of the great Nebraska offensive lines just a few years later.
Milt Tenopir and Dan Young built a system at Nebraska that took in young men with a good physical foundation and sculpted them into elite linemen. They didn't always have the best recruits, but they were great coaches who produced an incredible resume of Outland Trophy winners: Dave Rimington, Dean Steinkuhler, Will Shields, Zach Wiegert, and Aaron Taylor won the award during Milt Tenopir's coaching term. Nebraska was known as the school that produced great linemen, and you knew when you watched a Nebraska game that the offensive line would wear down their opponent and, by the fourth quarter, that Nebraska backs would be running for big gains. Nothing exemplified this more than the 1995 Orange Bowl, when the Nebraska line wore down Ray Lewis, Warren Sapp, and the rest of the Miami defense so that Cory Schlesinger could run for two touchdowns in the fourth quarter to secure a victory and a national championship for the Huskers. That 1994 Cornhusker offensive line unit had six players that players that would be eventually be drafted in the first four rounds of the NFL draft. Since Barney Cotton took over the line in 2008, though, the Huskers have had exactly zero linemen drafted in the first five rounds of the NFL draft.
There was a long period of time when Nebraska was the first team most football fans thought of when asked, "What college team has the best offensive line?" Now, though, the Huskers' offensive line doesn't even rank in the top half of their own conference, let alone make a statement on the national stage. The responsibility for that lies squarely on the shoulders of one man: Barney Cotton. Under his leadership, the Huskers have produced a string of mediocre lines that constantly fail to deliver. They are slow, get manhandled, fail to dominate the line of scrimmage, even against a weak opponent like Tennessee-Chattanooga, lack cohesion, and are frequently penalized. Their lack of discipline has helped Nebraska become one of the most penalized teams in the country (115 of 120), and their inability to dominate the line means that every game is a crapshoot as far as predicting a win.
When the Nebraska line was great, you could plug in Matt Turman and still expect a win. That line made average players look good, good players look great, and great players look like legends. Without the phenomenal offensive line of 1995, does Tommie Frazier look like the greatest college quarterback ever? He would certainly look good, but would his numbers be nearly as good? I say "no." Don't get me wrong - I think Frazier was an incredible player, and likely the best player I might ever see play the game. That doesn't mean, though, that he didn't benefit from having an offensive line that was not flagged for a single holding penalty during the 1995 season. Today's Nebraska offensive line wouldn't make Frazier look average, but it sure wouldn't help him look great. When a team like Tennessee-Chattanooga is penetrating the backfield 3-4 yards deep with 2-3 players on most option plays, there isn't much one can do as a back to look good.
For the last four years, Barney Cotton has been in charge of building "The Pipeline" at Nebraska. "The Pipeline" of today, however, is best described as "The 3/4" PVC female-female 90 degree ell." The problem is not with recruiting - every season we hear about great recruits coming in to the program. The problem is that Barney Cotton doesn't develop these recruits into outstanding football players. His leadership has produced exactly zero Outland Trophy finalists, zero Rimington Trophy finalists, and zero NFL draft choices in the first five rounds of the draft. When Iowa, Purdue, and Northwestern are ranked above you in the conference, you have failed as a coach. No excuses - he's had four years to create a good offensive line, and he has failed to deliver. I don't want to hear about injuries or youth or anything like that. He isn't the first coach to have to deal with injuries. He isn't the first coach to have to deal with young players. He is, however, the first line coach at Nebraska that I've heard use those excuses for four straight years.
Cotton's lines are undisciplined, and they consistently fail to work together to make combination blocks (when two linemen, double-team a defensive lineman, then one sloughs off to pick up the linebacker). A combination block is something that is taught in junior high to linemen, but it seems like the Nebraska line has never even heard about how to execute them. Nebraskans have a tendency to focus on Taylor Martinez and blame him for the collapse of the offense at the end of the 2010 season, but I think it makes a lot more sense to blame the atrocious play of the offensive line. As a back, it's a lot easier to make smart decisions and hold on to the ball when you aren't being hit in the backfield on almost every play. It's a lot easier to look like a good player when you don't have to worry about the line being able to handle more than the men directly in front of the them. There's a reason that Nebraska fans fondly remember Matt Turman rather than remember him as the guy who led the Huskers to their only (hypothetical) loss in 1994 against Kansas State, and it isn't because of his abilities behind center. The 1994 line helped Turman look good, and he wasn't even an average player. Behind the 2011 Nebraska line, Matt Turman would look like one of the worst players in the history of the game.
In short, Barney Cotton must go. I don't care about his kids staying and playing at Nebraska; I don't care if they transfer. I just want an offensive line coach that will produce a great offensive line, not a below-average line. It is unacceptable that Nebraska has a sub-par line, and Nebraskans should be calling for Barney Cotton's head, not Taylor Martinez's. Remember: one is 20 and learning a brand new offense, while the other is turning 55 on September 30 and has been coaching linemen since 1989. Nebraska fans need to hold Barney Cotton to the same standard they hold Martinez, and demand results now. I'm not even asking for a different standard for the two men - holding Cotton to the same standard as Martinez would have had Cotton out of Nebraska two years ago, and that would have been a good thing.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
I love the Rice Band
The Rice band trolled the Texas fans, and I love it.
Like I said, Texas hubris is the worst influence in college football today.
Like I said, Texas hubris is the worst influence in college football today.
Texas hubris is the worst influence in college football today
With scandals at Miami, USC, Ohio State, Oregon, and North Carolina, one might think that my stance on Texas is hyperbole, but I assure you that it is not, especially if you love the tradition of college football. While the scandals at the different schools listed are cause for concern and should prompt a call for reform, the Texas Longhorns have done more in the last fifteen years to permanently damage college football than any other person, institution, or governing body.
In 1995, Oklahoma and Nebraska played their final post-Thanksgiving rivalry game. That 37-0 whimper of an ending to a great rivalry based on mutual respect was the first symptom of the end of college football as we know it. Texas had a nice situation in the Southwest Conference, but, after Arkansas left the SWC in 1990, Texas started sniffing for greener pastures, and started the push to dissolve the SWC. In 1996, the old Big 8 took a chance and took in the four schools from Texas in what was an attempt by Texas to compete with the SEC for relevance in the national spotlight. A championship game was added, and the conference offices were relocated from Kansas City to Dallas. This shift to Texas also destroyed the great OU/NU rivalry, as OU and NU were split into two different divisions. OU joined the Texas schools and Okie State in forming the Big 12 South, and that was the beginning of the end. Nebraska lost its cultural tie to the conference, as trying to replace OU with Colorado is like replacing your Ferrari with a Sebring. With the fundamental differences between Texas and Nebraska, it was only a matter of time before it would come to a head.
Fast-forward fifteen years, and Nebraska is in the Big Ten, Colorado is in the Pac-12, and Texas A&M has just announced that is withdrawing from the Big 12, presumably to join the SEC. Why did this all happen?
Texas hubris.
Texas hubris pushed Nebraska from the Big 12, ending one of the longest played series in the game (NU/Kansas), ending over a century's worth of association with Iowa State, Kansas, Missouri, and Kansas State, and ending nearly a century's worth of association with Oklahoma and Oklahoma State. All of this because Texas couldn't handle not being the center of attention when part of the now defunct Southwest Conference, and, after becoming part of the national conversation by riding the coattails of Nebraska and Oklahoma, Texas got even greedier and went after their own network. That network is what drove Nebraska away, and it's what drove Texas A&M out, and I can assure you that OU will soon follow.
So why, do you ask, is this bad? Shouldn't everyone pursue money? Isn't this America? Is this capitalism at its finest?
I'll tell you why it's bad: what makes college football great is the stories behind the games. The years and years and years of history behind each matchup make each game more important. Kansas State beating Nebraska in 1998 wouldn't have meant nearly as much to the K-State fans without the thirty previous years of watching the Huskers leave the field as victors. No A&M victory over Texas or Texas victory over OU would mean as much without the decades of games in each series leading up to each victory. Each and every game is important in college football in regards to the pursuit of a national title, but each and every league game is important because of those years of tradition behind each game. Texas is quickly destroying with their hubris over a century of traditions from some of the greatest programs in college football's storied history.
Oklahoma will be leaving. A&M has left. Nebraska has left. Those three programs have great traditions of winning and, in the case of A&M especially, have some great game day traditions as well. Texas doesn't care, though, because they want to make a few more dollars. Soon there will be a just a few super-conferences as the Big 12 fully implodes and the Pac-12 becomes the Pac-16 and the SEC expands to 16 teams. I'm sure that the Big Ten will do the same. The result? We're going to lose games like Georgia-Florida or Tennessee-Alabama or Wisconsin-Minnesota. We've already lost USC-Washington and Stanford-USC. The Big Ten managed to keep the vast majority of its rivalry games, but if there is an expansion to sixteen teams, many will go by the wayside. All of this starts because Texas can't be satisfied with its lot in life.
DIAF, DeLoss Dodds.
In 1995, Oklahoma and Nebraska played their final post-Thanksgiving rivalry game. That 37-0 whimper of an ending to a great rivalry based on mutual respect was the first symptom of the end of college football as we know it. Texas had a nice situation in the Southwest Conference, but, after Arkansas left the SWC in 1990, Texas started sniffing for greener pastures, and started the push to dissolve the SWC. In 1996, the old Big 8 took a chance and took in the four schools from Texas in what was an attempt by Texas to compete with the SEC for relevance in the national spotlight. A championship game was added, and the conference offices were relocated from Kansas City to Dallas. This shift to Texas also destroyed the great OU/NU rivalry, as OU and NU were split into two different divisions. OU joined the Texas schools and Okie State in forming the Big 12 South, and that was the beginning of the end. Nebraska lost its cultural tie to the conference, as trying to replace OU with Colorado is like replacing your Ferrari with a Sebring. With the fundamental differences between Texas and Nebraska, it was only a matter of time before it would come to a head.
Fast-forward fifteen years, and Nebraska is in the Big Ten, Colorado is in the Pac-12, and Texas A&M has just announced that is withdrawing from the Big 12, presumably to join the SEC. Why did this all happen?
Texas hubris.
Texas hubris pushed Nebraska from the Big 12, ending one of the longest played series in the game (NU/Kansas), ending over a century's worth of association with Iowa State, Kansas, Missouri, and Kansas State, and ending nearly a century's worth of association with Oklahoma and Oklahoma State. All of this because Texas couldn't handle not being the center of attention when part of the now defunct Southwest Conference, and, after becoming part of the national conversation by riding the coattails of Nebraska and Oklahoma, Texas got even greedier and went after their own network. That network is what drove Nebraska away, and it's what drove Texas A&M out, and I can assure you that OU will soon follow.
So why, do you ask, is this bad? Shouldn't everyone pursue money? Isn't this America? Is this capitalism at its finest?
I'll tell you why it's bad: what makes college football great is the stories behind the games. The years and years and years of history behind each matchup make each game more important. Kansas State beating Nebraska in 1998 wouldn't have meant nearly as much to the K-State fans without the thirty previous years of watching the Huskers leave the field as victors. No A&M victory over Texas or Texas victory over OU would mean as much without the decades of games in each series leading up to each victory. Each and every game is important in college football in regards to the pursuit of a national title, but each and every league game is important because of those years of tradition behind each game. Texas is quickly destroying with their hubris over a century of traditions from some of the greatest programs in college football's storied history.
Oklahoma will be leaving. A&M has left. Nebraska has left. Those three programs have great traditions of winning and, in the case of A&M especially, have some great game day traditions as well. Texas doesn't care, though, because they want to make a few more dollars. Soon there will be a just a few super-conferences as the Big 12 fully implodes and the Pac-12 becomes the Pac-16 and the SEC expands to 16 teams. I'm sure that the Big Ten will do the same. The result? We're going to lose games like Georgia-Florida or Tennessee-Alabama or Wisconsin-Minnesota. We've already lost USC-Washington and Stanford-USC. The Big Ten managed to keep the vast majority of its rivalry games, but if there is an expansion to sixteen teams, many will go by the wayside. All of this starts because Texas can't be satisfied with its lot in life.
DIAF, DeLoss Dodds.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Something came in the mail a couple of weeks ago
About five weeks ago, Huskermax linked to an auction from CU where they were auctioning off the Big XII banners from their basketball arena. Evidently my wife and I saw the link at the same time and both decided that we wanted to buy the thing for me. Long story short, we didn't bid against one another, but we were the folks who paid $678 for a banner from CU. Guess we're suckers, since the CU banner only went for $400 (OU went for $225), but how many times will I get a chance to get a tie to Nebrasketball and Danny Nee?
During my tenure at Nebraska, my friends and I purchased student season tickets, which were pretty awesome because they were just a punch card for the first couple of years. Swipe your ID, get a hole punched, and off to "40 minutes of heck" (I'm pretty sure only my dorm mates will get that one). We had some great experiences at Devaney, like heckling Chauncey Billups, praying that Tyronn Lue would dunk, being sad that Cookie Belcher left, receiving lame t-shirts like "Kimani is my Ffriend," or taunting Bill Byrne with the taglines "$40 million athletic department budget - Danny Nee is our head coach" and "Hey Bill, if we lose to the Rooskies, can we get a new head coach?" The highlight of my fandom was having a brief video of me and three friends yelling at an official used in a video as an example of "what not to do at Devaney during a game." Yeah, we were young and dumb, but we had a ton of fun. We also went on the road to Iowa State (twice) and K-State (Once. That arena smelled like hog manure.). Email me if you want a funny (to me) story about Marcus Fizer shooting free throws at ISU.
The whole point of this is to demonstrate that while I don't really care all that much about Nebrasketball today (sorry Doc Sadler, but you're no Danny Nee), I do particularly cherish the time in college that I spent at the games with my friends. That's why this banner is kind of special for me - it represents an often overlooked portion of my time at Nebraska, and I also think it will make an awesomely bold statement when I finally hang it up.
Back to the saga of the banner, though. After winning the auction, I got my final bill from CU, which added a $3.50 shipping charge to the bill. What, $678 wasn't enough, vermin? Anyhow, my card run for $681.50, I anxiously awaited the arrival of my banner. I guess you could say I was probably about as excited as the dad in A Christmas Story when the box marked "FRAGILE" arrived (that's Italian for those who don't know). After two weeks, I finally called CU and asked them what was taking so long. The guy said to me, "Oh, it hasn't shipped yet. It's going out today. All packed up." Yeah, right, dude. I'm sure that's what was going on. He told me he'd email me the shipping information, then hung up.
Flash forward four days, and still no email or box. I called the guy again. "Oh, yeah. I'll send it to you. Let me check the tracking number. Yeah, it should be there today. I'm sending you the tracking number." The email shows up and, lo and behold, it's already been delivered! This was the same day I put my new plates on the car, so it was like a doubly-awesome Husker Friday. I arrived home and was greeted by the box sitting on the chaise lounge in the front room. It looked like a third grader had climbed all over it.
Not to worry, though. This thing is fabric, so it will be okay, right? I opened the box, and it looked like the same third-grader had packed it:
The banner was thrown in the bottom with a certificate of authenticity on top, and then some of those air bags were just kind of thrown in there. Note to CU: you're supposed to fill the box with those things, not just put four in and call it a day. Like I said, though, there was a certificate of authenticity, carefully inserted so that its integrity was preserved:
It's creased and has real bits of buffalo, so you know it's good. After taking a good long look at the certificate, I decided that it needs to be framed and displayed with the banner. Let's take a look at the banner itself:
Yeah, it's kind of big. Good thing we have 12' high ceilings in this place! I played around with putting in different places, but didn't hang it because I didn't have the hardware. Here's my favorite place, though I know it won't go there:
That gives you an idea of how big this thing is.
I wish I had hung it, though, because the next day this showed up:
Yeah. Now the house is full of boxes, and for some reason, my wife wants me to unpack before setting up everything else. I'm thinking it will hang adjacent to the entertainment center in the man cave (formerly the sewing studio).
I'm looking for suggestions as to what to do with the banner as well. I'm thinking about having my favorite Nebrasketball team (1996-1997, Belcher, Lue, Mikki Moore, Andy Markowski, Venson Hamilton, Danny Nee) sign it. Bonus because they were the first Big XII Nebraska team. Your thoughts on how I might accomplish this?
During my tenure at Nebraska, my friends and I purchased student season tickets, which were pretty awesome because they were just a punch card for the first couple of years. Swipe your ID, get a hole punched, and off to "40 minutes of heck" (I'm pretty sure only my dorm mates will get that one). We had some great experiences at Devaney, like heckling Chauncey Billups, praying that Tyronn Lue would dunk, being sad that Cookie Belcher left, receiving lame t-shirts like "Kimani is my Ffriend," or taunting Bill Byrne with the taglines "$40 million athletic department budget - Danny Nee is our head coach" and "Hey Bill, if we lose to the Rooskies, can we get a new head coach?" The highlight of my fandom was having a brief video of me and three friends yelling at an official used in a video as an example of "what not to do at Devaney during a game." Yeah, we were young and dumb, but we had a ton of fun. We also went on the road to Iowa State (twice) and K-State (Once. That arena smelled like hog manure.). Email me if you want a funny (to me) story about Marcus Fizer shooting free throws at ISU.
The whole point of this is to demonstrate that while I don't really care all that much about Nebrasketball today (sorry Doc Sadler, but you're no Danny Nee), I do particularly cherish the time in college that I spent at the games with my friends. That's why this banner is kind of special for me - it represents an often overlooked portion of my time at Nebraska, and I also think it will make an awesomely bold statement when I finally hang it up.
Back to the saga of the banner, though. After winning the auction, I got my final bill from CU, which added a $3.50 shipping charge to the bill. What, $678 wasn't enough, vermin? Anyhow, my card run for $681.50, I anxiously awaited the arrival of my banner. I guess you could say I was probably about as excited as the dad in A Christmas Story when the box marked "FRAGILE" arrived (that's Italian for those who don't know). After two weeks, I finally called CU and asked them what was taking so long. The guy said to me, "Oh, it hasn't shipped yet. It's going out today. All packed up." Yeah, right, dude. I'm sure that's what was going on. He told me he'd email me the shipping information, then hung up.
Flash forward four days, and still no email or box. I called the guy again. "Oh, yeah. I'll send it to you. Let me check the tracking number. Yeah, it should be there today. I'm sending you the tracking number." The email shows up and, lo and behold, it's already been delivered! This was the same day I put my new plates on the car, so it was like a doubly-awesome Husker Friday. I arrived home and was greeted by the box sitting on the chaise lounge in the front room. It looked like a third grader had climbed all over it.
Not to worry, though. This thing is fabric, so it will be okay, right? I opened the box, and it looked like the same third-grader had packed it:
The banner was thrown in the bottom with a certificate of authenticity on top, and then some of those air bags were just kind of thrown in there. Note to CU: you're supposed to fill the box with those things, not just put four in and call it a day. Like I said, though, there was a certificate of authenticity, carefully inserted so that its integrity was preserved:
It's creased and has real bits of buffalo, so you know it's good. After taking a good long look at the certificate, I decided that it needs to be framed and displayed with the banner. Let's take a look at the banner itself:
Yeah, it's kind of big. Good thing we have 12' high ceilings in this place! I played around with putting in different places, but didn't hang it because I didn't have the hardware. Here's my favorite place, though I know it won't go there:
That gives you an idea of how big this thing is.
I wish I had hung it, though, because the next day this showed up:
Yeah. Now the house is full of boxes, and for some reason, my wife wants me to unpack before setting up everything else. I'm thinking it will hang adjacent to the entertainment center in the man cave (formerly the sewing studio).
I'm looking for suggestions as to what to do with the banner as well. I'm thinking about having my favorite Nebrasketball team (1996-1997, Belcher, Lue, Mikki Moore, Andy Markowski, Venson Hamilton, Danny Nee) sign it. Bonus because they were the first Big XII Nebraska team. Your thoughts on how I might accomplish this?
Random Awesome Thing About Being a Nebraska Fan
While in the Wendy's drive through Thursday, the fellow in the car behind me rolled down his window and yelled "GOOOOOOOOO BIIIIIIIIIIIIIG RE-EDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD." Of course I answered with "GO BIG RED!" Keep in mind that this happened at like 5:45 pm on a Thursday in New Orleans. Husker Nation is everywhere.
He was probably reacting to the awesomeness of my new plates:
In case you're wondering why it says "SAC HSKR" instead of something to do with NOLA, click here.
I love being a Nebraska Alum.
He was probably reacting to the awesomeness of my new plates:
In case you're wondering why it says "SAC HSKR" instead of something to do with NOLA, click here.
I love being a Nebraska Alum.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Has it really been longer than two months since I posted?
Crap, I guess so. Well, in my defense, during that time, my wife and I have flown back to Sacramento to pack up the house and complete the move to NOLA, hosted a going-away party, driven across the country, had a moving truck arrive, had my MIL, stepson, and niece on a visit since June 24, and, of course, we've been unpacking and playing host.
Anyhow, I'm going to try to post a bit more frequently during the run-up to the season. Right now the 1998 Orange Bowl is in the DVD player, and Nebraska just scored at the beginning of the third quarter with a classic all-rush drive to crush Tennessee's will. Yeah, it makes me nostalgic for my time in school and for the teams Nebraska used to field. What an offense! I remember listening to Tennessee fans at halftime talking about how if they could just stop the turnovers, Tennessee could win the game. I remember laughing then and I laugh now thinking back on it. I miss being able to be that cocksure about the Huskers. Well, on offense at least. I'm that cocksure about the defense.
How do you feel about the upcoming season?
Anyhow, I'm going to try to post a bit more frequently during the run-up to the season. Right now the 1998 Orange Bowl is in the DVD player, and Nebraska just scored at the beginning of the third quarter with a classic all-rush drive to crush Tennessee's will. Yeah, it makes me nostalgic for my time in school and for the teams Nebraska used to field. What an offense! I remember listening to Tennessee fans at halftime talking about how if they could just stop the turnovers, Tennessee could win the game. I remember laughing then and I laugh now thinking back on it. I miss being able to be that cocksure about the Huskers. Well, on offense at least. I'm that cocksure about the defense.
How do you feel about the upcoming season?
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Visitors, Drinks, Dancing, and Palmetto Bugs
With the Rotary International Convention in town for the next week or so, there are a lot of Rotary members flying in to take place in the festivities (are they considered festivities when only five percent of your membership is under 40?). Part of that group flying in are my friends Mike and Heidi, who arrived at 10:30 pm last night, a Saturday.
Being the wonderfully awesome person that I am, I offered up a ride to Mike and Heidi from the airport to their hotel, and also offered to be their guide for the evening. Being the wonderfully awesome friends they are, they graciously accepted my offer and thus was sealed my devious plan to get out of the house for the night, trapping Hot Wife at home with Sick Baby (she'd hit a temperature of 103.5F earlier in the day - very sick). While I felt slightly guilty for this, I didn't feel all too guilty, as Hot Wife is generally in bed for the night by about 8:15 pm, and Sick Baby had been down since 7:30 or so.
Before picking up Mike and Heidi at the airport, I had to clean out the car, grab some dinner, and, of course, get ready. I cleaned out the trash from the car, picked up a pizza, then came back to Craphole Apartment to change clothes and get sexified for the night. For me, getting sexified for the night involved ironing a shirt, brushing my teeth, and taming my hair. It's not exactly a rigorous routine, and the results may or may not be considered sexified by all, but it passes as sexified to Hot Wife, so it works for me.
At about 10:30 pm, I received a text from Mike saying that he and Heidi had landed, so I got up to leave. After giving Hot Wife a quick kiss goodbye, I turned to leave. She said, quite prophetically, "You'll probably be getting home just as I'm getting up." More on that later.
When I opened the door to leave the apartment, a palmetto bug raced paced me from the outside. I'm pretty sure that it was clinging tenaciously to the front door of Craphole Apartment, just waiting for the door to swing in so it could land on the ground with a loud plop, thereby securing it a place inside Craphole Apartment. As to why it would want to live in this place, I have no idea, but I guess the dumpster around the block was full. For those of you who are not aware of what a palmetto bug looks like, please feast your eyes on this monstrosity:
Does it look like a cockroach to you? It should, because it's closely related to the American Cockroach. These things are fairly prevalent here, and they evidently await unsuspecting saps like me opening doors to let them into the house, kind of like these guys. Anyhow, I tried to catch/stomp the thing, but just couldn't get it before it scurried into the front closet. Since I needed to go get Mike and Heidi, I left the bug in the front closet and headed to the airport.
I circled the airport a couple of times, then saw Mike and Heidi and pulled to the curb to pick them up. A couple of big hugs later, the suitcases were loaded in the back of the SUV and we were on our way. While I was loading the suitcases, though, things were going on at the house that would alter Hot Wife's life forever. I received the first clue that something was wrong in the form of a text message, which I didn't see until later that night:
While the palmetto bug was making itself at home on my wife, Mike, Heidi, and I were headed down Veterans Memorial Boulevard to Jax Dax, a drive-through daiquiri place. I think it's essential that every guest to New Orleans is introduced to one of the greatest things that this place has to offer: drive-through bars. Mike and Heidi were suitable impressed, and each ordered a daiquiri and a Jell-O shot. While all of this was going, on though, my phone was blowing up, courtesy of Hot Wife.
Evidently not satisfied with my non-response to her text message (which I had yet to see), she felt the need to call me to inform me of the invasion of the giant cockroaches who woke her from her sleep. Let me assure you, there isn't ever a conversation quite as funny as trying to talk your wife down from panic about a palmetto bug while your two friends are ordering drinks at the drive-through from some co-ed working the window, all while trying to convince your wife that, no, that isn't a cockroach, it's obviously a palmetto bug, don't worry about it and go to sleep! Hot Wife really wasn't too pleased with my response, so I asked her if she wanted me to come home and take care of it, to which she replied, "no," and then said goodbye and hung up.
While I was on the phone with Hot Wife, Mike and Heidi were finishing up their orders and had paid, so when I hung up, I took the change from the co-ed, gave her a tip, handed the change to Mike, then pulled out to get on the freeway. On the way to the freeway, I gave Mike and Heidi a quick rundown of the palmetto bug situation, talking about what had happened while I was leaving and the phone call with Hot Wife. I remarked that a palmetto bug is basically a cockroach, but that I was trying to convince Hot Wife that it wasn't and that she need not worry. Hoping to God that Hot Wife wouldn't do her usual thing and research the living crap out of everything in her life, I pulled on to I-10 and headed toward downtown.
Three minutes later:
Yeah, so much for that. Being the smart husband that I am, I did the noble thing and told my passengers about the text message. Mike and Heidi burst into laughter, as did I, and we went merrily on our way down the highway toward downtown. I knew there would be a story about this bug when I got home, so I kindly ignored the text message and focused on having fun with Mike and Heidi. Here's a brief rundown of the night:
Epilogue
I found the palmetto bug on the Craptastic Loveseat at about 11 am. Keep in mind that this is where Hot Wife slept to avoid the bug. I killed it and disposed of its corpse in a dignified manner: burial at toilet. I didn't want a shrine erected at its burial site.
Being the wonderfully awesome person that I am, I offered up a ride to Mike and Heidi from the airport to their hotel, and also offered to be their guide for the evening. Being the wonderfully awesome friends they are, they graciously accepted my offer and thus was sealed my devious plan to get out of the house for the night, trapping Hot Wife at home with Sick Baby (she'd hit a temperature of 103.5F earlier in the day - very sick). While I felt slightly guilty for this, I didn't feel all too guilty, as Hot Wife is generally in bed for the night by about 8:15 pm, and Sick Baby had been down since 7:30 or so.
Before picking up Mike and Heidi at the airport, I had to clean out the car, grab some dinner, and, of course, get ready. I cleaned out the trash from the car, picked up a pizza, then came back to Craphole Apartment to change clothes and get sexified for the night. For me, getting sexified for the night involved ironing a shirt, brushing my teeth, and taming my hair. It's not exactly a rigorous routine, and the results may or may not be considered sexified by all, but it passes as sexified to Hot Wife, so it works for me.
At about 10:30 pm, I received a text from Mike saying that he and Heidi had landed, so I got up to leave. After giving Hot Wife a quick kiss goodbye, I turned to leave. She said, quite prophetically, "You'll probably be getting home just as I'm getting up." More on that later.
When I opened the door to leave the apartment, a palmetto bug raced paced me from the outside. I'm pretty sure that it was clinging tenaciously to the front door of Craphole Apartment, just waiting for the door to swing in so it could land on the ground with a loud plop, thereby securing it a place inside Craphole Apartment. As to why it would want to live in this place, I have no idea, but I guess the dumpster around the block was full. For those of you who are not aware of what a palmetto bug looks like, please feast your eyes on this monstrosity:
Does it look like a cockroach to you? It should, because it's closely related to the American Cockroach. These things are fairly prevalent here, and they evidently await unsuspecting saps like me opening doors to let them into the house, kind of like these guys. Anyhow, I tried to catch/stomp the thing, but just couldn't get it before it scurried into the front closet. Since I needed to go get Mike and Heidi, I left the bug in the front closet and headed to the airport.
I circled the airport a couple of times, then saw Mike and Heidi and pulled to the curb to pick them up. A couple of big hugs later, the suitcases were loaded in the back of the SUV and we were on our way. While I was loading the suitcases, though, things were going on at the house that would alter Hot Wife's life forever. I received the first clue that something was wrong in the form of a text message, which I didn't see until later that night:
Evidently not satisfied with my non-response to her text message (which I had yet to see), she felt the need to call me to inform me of the invasion of the giant cockroaches who woke her from her sleep. Let me assure you, there isn't ever a conversation quite as funny as trying to talk your wife down from panic about a palmetto bug while your two friends are ordering drinks at the drive-through from some co-ed working the window, all while trying to convince your wife that, no, that isn't a cockroach, it's obviously a palmetto bug, don't worry about it and go to sleep! Hot Wife really wasn't too pleased with my response, so I asked her if she wanted me to come home and take care of it, to which she replied, "no," and then said goodbye and hung up.
While I was on the phone with Hot Wife, Mike and Heidi were finishing up their orders and had paid, so when I hung up, I took the change from the co-ed, gave her a tip, handed the change to Mike, then pulled out to get on the freeway. On the way to the freeway, I gave Mike and Heidi a quick rundown of the palmetto bug situation, talking about what had happened while I was leaving and the phone call with Hot Wife. I remarked that a palmetto bug is basically a cockroach, but that I was trying to convince Hot Wife that it wasn't and that she need not worry. Hoping to God that Hot Wife wouldn't do her usual thing and research the living crap out of everything in her life, I pulled on to I-10 and headed toward downtown.
Three minutes later:
Yeah, so much for that. Being the smart husband that I am, I did the noble thing and told my passengers about the text message. Mike and Heidi burst into laughter, as did I, and we went merrily on our way down the highway toward downtown. I knew there would be a story about this bug when I got home, so I kindly ignored the text message and focused on having fun with Mike and Heidi. Here's a brief rundown of the night:
- 11:30 pm: Leave the highway, take a quick tour up St. Charles, then back down Magazine to show off the neighborhood
- 11:45 pm: Arrive at hotel. Stand outside waiting to be let in as we didn't have room keys. Wonder why the two men standing inside or the woman behind the counter won't let us in.
- 11:55 pm: Follow another guest into the lobby who didn't bother to even hold the door for us.
- 11:56 pm: Listen to the desk clerk finally address the man who had been standing there waiting to check in.
- 12:04 am: Finally begin the check in process.
- 12:15 am: Finally end the check-in process. Evidently not too many people put two hotel rooms on one credit card. This seemed to mystify the desk clerk.
- 12:25 am: Leave the hotel in the SUV, head to the Quarter.
- 12:35 am: Arrive on Bourbon Street on foot, have to walk between a row of cars blaring hip hop on one side and a host of scantily clad underage African-American women "twerkin" to said music. Welcome to Bourbon Street, Mike and Heidi! (Follow this link to see "twerkin." Note that the link is NSFW, and, as a bonus, the song in the link is the song that was playing.)
- 12:50 am: Reach the last Tropical Isle on Bourbon, grab a couple of Hand Grenades and a Horny Gator
- 1:10 am: Finish drinks, head into Old Opera House on Bourbon, and proceed to dance. A lot.
- 2:25 am: Leave Old Opera House
- 2:55 am: Reach the car, head to a 24-hour fried chicken place
- 3:02 am: Emergency potty break at my office on Poydras. So good.
- 3:12 am: On the road again, headed for chicken.
- 3:30 am: Leave chicken place (actually a gas station), head for the hotel
- 3:40 am: Drop off Mike and Heidi, head for home
- 3:59 am: Walk through the front door and observe Hot Wife sleeping on Craptastic Loveseat, obviously still afraid of the bug
- 4:00 am - 4:10 am: Conduct thorough search for rogue palmetto bug in bedroom, find nothing
- 4:10 am: Kiss Hot Wife goodnight, head to bed
- 4:12 am: Hot Wife comes into bedroom and proceeds to tell me her harrowing tale of combat with the palmetto bug. Details include its path of travel over both her hands while she was sleeping, plus the ability to hear it scurrying around a hissing while the lights were out. Bonus details included her paranoia regarding any object remotely the size of the bug, including wall hangers and light switch for the oven light.
- 4:25 am: Drift off to sleep
Epilogue
I found the palmetto bug on the Craptastic Loveseat at about 11 am. Keep in mind that this is where Hot Wife slept to avoid the bug. I killed it and disposed of its corpse in a dignified manner: burial at toilet. I didn't want a shrine erected at its burial site.
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