Nothing But Iron: Buckylocks Triumphant, Green & Goldi Locked Up September 29, 2005 by Steven R. Lagman, M.D., C.A.S.W. My what big lineman you have, Grandma! The better to be left in the dust by Brian Calhoun with, my dear. O.K. that’s a hopelessly-worded analogy, but you know how it is when you’re giddy. It’s hard not to be giddy when the Big Bad Wolf struts into your stadium to devour you, and instead limps away with a good ol’ fashioned neutering. That I saw it coming is a claim I could only make if I were a big fat liar, which I am sometimes, but not today. Like many of you, I had my doubts, but these have been downgraded to Category I subtle anxieties, along the lines of Just how durable is Brian Calhoun? I am willing now to admit that the Badgers are a good team. That is not a prediction of titles or Bowl worthiness or immunity to ineptitude against lesser opponents, or insulation from late-season collapse, but I can say with the conviction born of direct observation, that as of Saturday, September 24, 2005, they are good. It has been said that this Michigan is not one of the strongest teams in Michigan’s storied history, but they are still Wolverines, and it was refreshing to get a win against them, especially considering the many UW-UM contests that were close to wins, but for the sake of a few measly points were not. The Wolverines I saw Saturday, though farther from perfection than their predecessors, had plenty of talent, plenty of size and plenty of speed. I was particularly impressed with the latter, which served as catalyst for violent collisions on almost every play. What surprised me was how often the Badgers returned the favor. Imagine the soreness that players on both teams must have felt on Sunday. At 4-0 the Badgers are now poised to go 5-0. After last year, that’s as far as I should probably take it. In moments of weakness, I do glance at the schedule magnet by my desk. I can’t help but notice the absence of Michigan State and Ohio State, which some people see as a blessing. You say tomato, I say utter stupidity. Why does major college football have such a phobia for true champions? True, I have Category 4 anxiety about a rematch (relapse) with the Spartans, but Ohio State, which has a penchant for collapse at the sight of Badgers, could have served as a vital springboard in the ridiculous-by-design computer ratings–critical if the players were to conspire to give to Barry Alvarez the ultimate going away present of an undefeated season or a shot at a fourth Rose Bowl trophy. . . I am kidding about that of course, but 5-0 would be nice. It’s nice to have special teams back in the ranks of the reliable. It has gotten to the point now where I am forgetting to cringe on punts, returns and place kicks. Fewer illegal block penalties on run backs wouldn’t hurt, but I don’t want to get picky. I am liking the decision to promote Bret Bielema to head coach more and more every time I see his defense improve. It’s a patchwork, no-name defense due to injuries at some key positions in the line and secondary, but as a team it is effective. Brian Calhoun’s legacy could be that of the most versatile UW running back ever. He runs in the middle. He runs outside. He pounds. He jukes. He pauses. He surges. He catches passes. I think I even saw him selling programs. What fun he must be having after an entire season spent salivating on the sidelines. Curious that the Badgers didn’t use him in the final series that culminated with John Stocco’s go-ahead touchdown on a quarterback draw, but I suppose the decision was all part of the chess game between offensive and defensive coordinators. Checkmate. I’ll finish the UW-Michigan discussion with an amusing anecdote, which was enough of an annoyance that it was even amusing at the time. I entered Camp Randall Stadium a few minutes before the National Anthem. I would make a preemptive bathroom stop because the seating, which was designed in 1952 by U.R. Cozy, a retired sardine cannery foreman, is painful to navigate during a game. I inched into row 34 as the players were lining up for kickoff, excusing myself past the first half dozen seated fans, who stood obligingly to let me by. I reached an impasse at the seat of an early-old-age man who seemed not to have noticed me despite the fact that I was so close to sitting on his lap that I considered telling him what I wanted for Christmas. "Could I sneak by you?" I asked. The intensity of his glare caught me off guard. For several seconds he sat motionless, staring at me as if I had just stolen the batteries from his hearing aids. I studied the rows above and below for other options, like Calhoun must study converging linebackers, realizing that my only other choice was to turn around and go back. Finally Mr. Grumpy Lead Butt got up and I edged carefully by him without speaking my mind: What the [nasty expletive of your choosing] did you want me to do, sprout wings and fly to my seat? Instead, feigning gratitude, I thanked him for tolerating my transgression. Sometimes inhibitions are a good thing. So are televisions. My advice: If you can’t take the crowd, get the [same expletive as above] out of the stadium. The second best thing about the Green Bay-Tampa Gay game was that Wisconsin beat Michigan, but there was something even better. In fact, Sunday could not have started out more favorably. I played early-morning basketball–a natural antidepressant with a sustained effect that would provide much-needed emotional buoyancy about the time of Brett Favre’s third interception. I got home a little before 8:30 and nudged Connor awake. Early in the week he surprised me by asking to go along. As a long-time Broncos fan, it dawned on him that he didn’t own a Packers shirt. I told him that I would buy him one if he planned to cheer for the home team. He assured me that was his intent. Just before we left I noticed his white t-shirt sported a pocket-sized Green Bay Packers "G" logo. He had printed it from the internet and affixed it to his shirt with clear mailing tape. He was true to his word about cheering and he got his Packers shirt (which he wore to school on Monday and again on Thursday). My youngest son showing signs of conversion to Packerism at the tender age of twelve. If he someday announces that he wants to follow in my medical or sportswriting footsteps, I will hardly be more proud. On the drive north, I was passed effortlessly by a driver in a black Expedition. I had the cruise control set at 75, so I estimated he was doing 85, not to mention 6 miles per gallon. Not one to miss a teaching opportunity, I called the vehicle to Connor’s attention. "Think a cop would give him a ticket?" I asked. "Yeah," he replied, "but there’s no cops." (Grammar will come in another lesson.) I reminded him that there were cops somewhere. Ten minutes later flashing red lights caught our attention. Sure enough, the Expedition was pulled over and a state trooper was standing at the driver’s window. "That’s so cool," Connor said, grinning at me as if I had special powers, which I did not deny. The game itself had its moments, as most games in Lambeau Field do. It was good to see a couple touchdown passes to know the magic is not completely gone. I could have done without the missed PAT, missed field goal, missed tackles and a few of the penalties. Overall, I thought the players played hard, and I never doubted their intensity or desire to win. Both will be difficult to sustain if something doesn’t change. And how do you change your talent? That’s a tough one. The crowd was great–supportive and vocal. I didn’t hear much booing, though we left after the terminal Tampa Bay first down, in order to beat traffic. I suppose there will be booing this year. Too bad we can forget so easily. Actually there was booing, but it was for the officials. A major gaff in the second half hurt the Packers considerably. The defense caused a Brian Griese fumble, which was confirmed by replay, but initially ruled an incomplete pass. The ball was moved to the spot of the fumble, but the Packers could not be awarded their due possession because the whistle had blown before the recovery. How many times do we have to see this scenario before officials learn to wait a couple seconds before blowing the play dead? When the QB drops the ball, the assumption should always be that a fumble has occurred. That way the correct call can be made either way based on review. Still, as I pointed out to my nephew, Troy, who was sitting next to us, if the Packers had eliminated half of their own mistakes the official’s blunder would not have mattered. I have heard it predicted that seven wins may be enough to secure the NFC North title. What a pathetically hollow celebration that would be to win the division with a losing record. On the other hand, I could live with hollow. Sadly, seven wins for the Packers seems as far away as Super Bowl XXXI. I promise to get over it if you will. Finally, a word of advice for Favre. They say you’re out of control. They say you must reign in your game to give us a chance at mediocrity. Ignore They. Inspire us. Take chances. Live on the edge. Elude blitzing linebackers. Throw on the run, off your back foot. Thread the needle. Fake short and go long. Swagger. Point to the sky. This is why you’re the most exciting quarterback in Packers history. Interceptions be damned. Better to go out with a bang than a whimper. A quick word about baseball: Yankee, Red Sox. Friday, Saturday and Sunday. We should watch it. __________ Nothing But Iron is an amateur sports column published late at night when the author should be sleeping. ©2005 DrTM Enterprises. All rights reserved, including the right to proofread this column at a later time, or never.