This past weekend I made good on long-stated intentions to attend a Cyclone home game with a friend at Iowa State.  This allowed me the chance to observe many things about which I had heard much but had never personally witnessed, like Ames bars (they exist!), Cyclone tailgating (there's a lot!) and the incorrigibility of Nebraska fans.  I was not prepared for how true the latter would ring.

I am not just an Eastern Iowan - I was raised in Dubuque, which for non-Iowans means growing up I could see Illinois/Wisconsin from my front yard.  Exactly 319 miles of sweet Iowa soil separated me from the place known as Nebraska, and I therefore spent my entire pre-adult life blissfully unaware of the Husker identity.  Four years of college in Decorah, even farther from Big Red territory, and two years of AmeriCorps in Minneapolis extended this period of happy ignorance right up to this past weekend.

Scene: Friday night in an Ames bar, the name of which I don't remember.  My friend is off fraternizing with a pretty girl, and the people he left me with aren't much for conversation, so I decide to strike up small talk with three Husker fans decked out in their Nebraska gear.  They are, after all, my future Big Ten brethren, Thanksgiving weekend rivals, and look closer to Hawk fans in their sartorial enthusiasm than their apathetic Cyclone counterparts.  "I'm actually an Iowa fan in enemy territory," I begin jokingly, "and I'm looking forward to playing you guys," I continue olive branch-ly, "so what do you guys think about next year?"  I expected some good-natured chatter about their chances against Iowa, as I had just referenced playing them, so I wasn't prepared for their spokesman's matter-of-fact, somewhat annoyed response: "Honestly, I think it's going to be us and Ohio State at the top of the Big Ten next year.  Probably, we win the Big 12 this year and the Big Ten next year."

I was speechless.  I laughed, bemused, and mustered a feeble "...yeah, that would...be good for you, that's for sure..." before walking away in a stunned daze.  As I left, they checked their self-assurance with a preemptive excuse for their inevitable failure: "You know, we have the hardest schedule in the Big Ten."  From that moment, I started seeing Nebraska fans not as red-and-gold, long-lost Hawkeye cousins, but as grotesque Buckeye doppelgangers, absolutely confident they would be undefeated national champions next year...every year.  This encounter, in addition to the plethora of stupid foam ten-gallon hats and the endless, ridiculous eruptions of "GOOO BIIIIG REE-EED........GO BIG RED!!" I witnessed over the next twenty-four hours has cemented them as the team I want to beat next year more than any other.  Yes, it's thirteen months away, and no, I'm not the first to say it, but...fuck Nebraska.

It's my first time.  Be gentle.

Over breakfast this morning, I discovered that Marc Morehouse, this poster's go-to sportswriter for everything Hawkeye (along with Hlas and BGHP, that is), has quietly published what may simultaneously be the most shocking yet logical journalistic discovery regarding the Hawkeyes to date.  Hold onto your hats people: Quarterback Ricky Stanzi, it turns out, is a vampire.  The Manzi explains the benefits thusly:

"You live forever. You’re never cold, you’re never hot. You’re the perfect temperature. Everything athletic comes easily. You’ve got to read the books to understand. Believe me, you want to be on the vampire side of this. Believe me. If you read it, you’d understand it. Vampires are the winners."

Now, some of you who followed the link or read the article of your own accord may be thinking "Hur hur, nice try newb, but he was talking about whether werewolves or vampires are better, not being a vampire himself."  Well, first off, fuck you.  Enjoy the joke.  Secondly, Stanzi as a vampire makes absolutely perfect sense.

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