(via chicagosidesports.com)
As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t think that the good old Cardiac ‘Cats have a Nebraskan hail mary’s chance of making The Grandaddady of Them All. Unfortunately, there are more impediments blocking Northwestern from making the Rose Bowl than there are ways for NU to lose a game, but these three sticking points immediately jump out to me as reasons Northwestern doesn’t have a chance to make this New Year’s Tournament of Roses:
The Sherman Ave Editors (Evander Jones, Ross Packingham and Sir Edward Twattingworth III) sat down with Northwestern University President Morty Schapiro for an interview. Why he agreed to let us do this, we may never know, but we sure are happy he did.
“I’m allergic to cats.”
Packingham: If you could make a drink called “The Morty,” what would it entail?
Morty: Oh man. Like an alcoholic drink?
Twattingworth: Wow, interesting that your mind went there.
Morty: Yeah… Well, you know when I drink, like last night–this is really exciting–but one-third orange juice, two-thirds Perrier.
Packingham: Perrier? Is that vodka? Or rum?
Morty: And they have to give me this much wine so I can hold it to pretend I’ll drink it, but I’m not a wine drinker. I like beer when I have Asian food. I like Thai beer, or Japanese beer or something.
Packingham: Like a Budweiser?
Morty: I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. So I’m not big on like American Continue reading
Fitz called the bowl win drought “heinous.”
The Northwestern Wildcats, following their 34-20 win over the Mississippi State Bulldogs on New Year’s Day, are enduring a historic three-day bowl win drought.
“It’s something we’re going to have to work on, go ‘Cats,” NU coach Pat Fitzgerald said. “Obviously it’s tough when you go 72 hours without winning a bowl game and we know our fans are disappointed, go ‘Cats. But we’ll keep working and trying to get that monkey off our back, go ‘Cats.”
NU went 64 years between the school’s two bowl wins, meaning that the three-day drought is the second longest in school history. Athletic Director Jim Phillips said he understands the frustration he’s heard from fans since the ‘Cats leg-humped Mississippi State for three hours on national television, but urged Wildcat fans to be patient. Continue reading
Man, did we get blueballed this season or what?
It was a lot like taking a detour to class through Kellogg to get a Jolly Rancher: sure the only ones left are the grape and even though everyone hates grape Jolly Ranchers, well at least it’s better than nothing. You also managed to avoid walking outside in the cold for another two minutes so all in all you came out better than you normally would have. With a feeling akin to soul-crushing emptiness but you root for Northwestern so don’t get greedy goddamnit.
With clear eyes and full hearts, let’s examine the season that was(n’t).
Continue reading
You never forget your first time.
Hello there.
Are you a BCS team from an automatic qualifier conference? Are you traveling to Evanston in the near future? Are you the Boston College Eagles!?
If so, then on behalf of the Northwestern Wildcat football program and the 250 or so bored students from the Greater Chicagoland area, we cordially invite you to get fucked.
First off, let us begin by complimenting the entire BC defense on how well your faces have recovered from the monstrous welt Kain Colter’s schlong gave you in last year’s season opener.* We’re mostly just impressed that you came back for more after that thorough 24-17 dicking.
Doesn’t the Catholic Church have some sort of policy against the bestiality you are about to endure at the mercy of Venric Mark and the Northwestern wide receiver corps? We always knew that Jesuits were pretty chill about that sort of thing, but still.
Regardless, it’s kind of rude for Notre Dame to seek an injunction against the HHS mandate just so Boston College football won’t be able to receive the sexual health care it will need after getting so totally fucked by NU this Saturday afternoon. It’s not like Notre Dame was going to need any help beating you guys anyway.
Speaking of sensitive religious topics, stop trying to inquisition us.
We know we were once called the Fighting Methodists and all, but nowadays most of our students are either Jewish, godless socialist Democrats, or Markwell. Fitzwizardry isn’t heresy, and with the exception of your defensive backs, nobody’s getting torched this Saturday. Give it a rest, and spend less time trying to impose canonical law with the arm of Chase Rettig and more time getting fucked.
The only thing more depressing than being the third best college accessible via the T will be Chi Chi Ariguzo’s physically and emotionally damaging defense. The only thing more unsettling than Frank Spaziani’s mustache will be how Ifaedi Odenigbo methodically destroys everything you hold holy — starting with Doug Flutie and ending with Tip O’Neill, Scott Brown, and Matt Ryan — in an assault that transcends the boundaries of time, space, and party politics.**
Simply put, Pat Fitzgerald the Fighting Methodists will fuck you worse than the sexual trinity Karl Rove administered to BC Law alum John Kerry in 2004.
Last week, we made a promise and came through. This week we are proud to make another such guarantee.
Get Fucked BC.
———————————————————————————————————————
*My second dick slapping joke in as many weeks. I’m gunning for the record set by Brother Jürgen Taintsdorf in the infamous summer of ’06.
**Seriously, are you guys good at doing anything else besides playing quarterback or serving in Congress?
To stay updated on this weekend’s #GetFuckedBC campaign, follow us on Twitter and like us on Facebook and look for the intoxicated heinouses shouting ‘Get Fucked BC’ Saturday afternoon at Ryan Field.
Dear Vandy,
Get fucked.
Seriously. We mean it. From the 20 of us hanging around Evanston and the scores more waiting at home in Westchester for school to start, Wildcat nation would like to invite you to get fucked come this Saturday night.
Wipe that smile off your face and pay attention. We’re not talking about “getting fucked up,” so you can leave your Miller Chill and Croakies back with your Brad Paisley in that just-southern-enough-to-make-you-feel-uncomfortable city you call home.
No. Vandy, you’re going to get fucked so bad the University will have to change its nickname from the Commodores to the Rear Admirals.
When the lights come on at Ryan Field this weekend, prepare to get smoked by the Wildcats like it’s the U.S. News and World Report college rankings.
#SyracuseGotFucked
Sure, Jordan Rodgers hooks up with Jordan Matthews more often than your frat brothers score with biddies in stupidly oversized hats. And yes, our defense has been known to Dukakis away a lead or two in the past. But at least our coach isn’t the biggest chauvinistic prick your school has produced since Jay Cutler, an impressive feat coming from a school like Vanderbilt.
When did being the doormat of the entire SEC allow for you to eschew all reason and presume you would not get entirely fucked this Saturday? If the robber baron founder of Vanderbilt University could conceivably win a douche-off against Northwestern’s genocide-apologist forebearer, is that really a good thing?
#GetFuckedVandy isn’t just a hashtag. It’s a promise. Venric Mark will annihilate you. Chi Chi Ariguzo will strangle you. Pat Fitzgerald will outman you and Kyle Prater will dickslap Al Gore just for good measure.
Get fucked Vandy.
Cordially,
Evander Jones
LIKE OUR FACEBOOK PAGE to sign our petition to stop the Vanderbilt University Football Team’s brutal clubbing of baby seals.
Hey Wildcat’s! It’s the fourth quarter. It’s time to finish! So let’s put your hands up in the air while we try and figure out what the hell this song is about!
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
Danzel begins his anthem with an imperative. More command than mere request, Wildcat fans are instructed to throw their hands up in the air to start the fourth quarter off right with a communal movement that celebrates the fleeting temporal relationship between a television timeout and the Northwestern secondary’s imminent collapse.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
A reiteration of Danzel’s requisition, harkening back to the initial invocation presented to fans through the luminous jumbotron specter at Ryan Field. There are only so many permutations with which one can raise one’s hands up in the air, but such trifles are not of concern to men like Danzel or Kain Colter.
16x: Air
Bridging the gap between the transcendent heavens and the solid gridiron where mortals run the spread is air — surrounding us, within us, throughout us — air, the wind modern man has breathed for longer than approximately 3,174.60 NU bowl droughts. Like Pat Fitzgerald, we return to the essence that begot us with arms open wide to the infinite blue beyond.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
God, I could just do this shit all motherfucking day.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
Are they flashing WNBA scores up on the scoreboard? Oh wait, that’s just the Indiana final.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
Danzel utilizes repetition to depict the subtle interplay between the verticality of your limbs and your levels of ampitude. This is a complex relationship that the 20,000 or so Nebraska fans in the stadium will never quite appreciate.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
Were the rights to Taio Cruz’s “Dynamite” really that expensive?
Yo party people come out sayin’ yeah
Party people come out sayin’ yeah
Danzel rapidly changes perspectives, venturing into the mind of party people. Although a bold display of empathy, I have to admit that when party people normally come out to my ragers, they normally say things like “Oh, you were serious about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory theme?” or “Man, it’s been such a long time since I’ve drank anything cheaper than Sköl!” Maybe Belgian party people just rage a little… differently than we do here.
Feel the vibe
And it’s gettin’ stronger
After setting up his song with repeated exposition viz a viz our hands in the air, Danzel announces his intention to delve into the atmosphere he and his audience have mutually created, expounding upon the aura, or “vibe,” that his beats have created within Ryan Field.
Feel the vibe
And it’s gettin’ stronger
Taken out of context, this line sounds exactly as stupid and/or sexual as it does within the context of this song.
GET THOSE HANDS UP IN THE MOTHERFUCKING AIR!!!
Party people come out, come out..
yo, Dj turn it on
LET’S GO ROUND TWO!!!
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
Oh God. There are only so many times I can put my hands up in the air… I think my forearms are more sore than Monica Lewinsky’s in the Oval Office. Must. Keep. Getting. Pumped.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
A bit of biographical information on Danzel. Born “Johan Waem,” the musician broke out of a perpetual cycle of chocolate addiction in the waffle house slums of Antwerp that plagues so many other young Belgians with his deep passion for house, techno, dance music, and getting you PUMPED for the fourth quarter of football games.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
Surprisingly, this song peaked at Number 6 in the UK Dance Charts in 2005 but never garnered much interest anywhere else. How the hell it became an NU tradition is anyone’s guess.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
Speaking of which, can something really be a “tradition” if it was instituted less than two years after we elected our current president? Looking at you, March Through the Arch.
[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]
Danzel takes a quick break from pumping you up, providing ample time for the jumbotron to display pre-meds dancing more awkwardly than Mitt Romney at a RZA show.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
What Northwestern lacks in terms of facilities, season-ticket holders, or a pass rushing attack, it more than makes up for with its fan base’s threatening ability to raise its hands up in the air for extended periods of time.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
GET SOME, UNIVERSITY OF SOUTH DAKOTA!!! Yippee ki-yay, motherfuckers.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
I assume this is also what House Republicans said when they held the government hostage this spring. On an unrelated note: I bet love to see Paul Ryan play running back. The dude makes social welfare cuts quicker than Venric Mark on a kick return.
Put your hands up in the air
Put your hands up in the air
The strength of Danzel’s mantra lies in its specific spatial reference point. The bard is imploring his audience to place their hands — one of the most essential tools of the human body — in the very oxygen we breathe, interweaving the supple protoplasm of man with the zephyrous troposphere that sustains us.
[FADEOUT]
Wildcat fans are led to believe that Danzel’s jam will continue ad nauseam, a never ending ode to the power of triumphantly raising one’s hands in the air into perpetuity in order to raise stokeage levels at Ryan Field to near illegal levels in Evanston.
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Sherman Ave 
