Bread and circus

 Our national game kicks off tonight out in Seattle, and, no, I don't know why. It's Wednesday, traditionally a day unsoiled by Roger Goodell's mighty colossus. Perhaps the Geico camel was down on his luck and needed the work.*

(*Reference to the promo making the rounds, in which Geico camel makes his triumphant return, harassing Mike Tirico with his trademark "Mike-Mike-Mike-Mike-Mike! What day is it? Hump DAAAAY!" schtick.)

Anyway, it's the New England Patriots against the Seattle Seahawks in a Super Bowl rematch, and boy, that will be some fun. The last time they met, the Seahawks won the Lombardi Trophy by 16 points, 29-13. It will probably be closer this time. Or not.

Anyway-anyway, it all gets started tonight and tomorrow night, when the 49ers and Rams open their season on the cricket grounds in Melbourne, Australia. No, I don't know why they're doing that, either. Maybe so they can tell a great Roger Goodell joke.

Q: What do Aussies call NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, who tips the tape measure at just 5-11?

A: Shrimp on the barbie!

"Yeah, saw that comin'," you're saying now.

Maybe. But I bet you didn't see this: If you click on the NFL schedule, and look under the heading "Tickets", know what it says about New England-Seattle tonight?

Tickets as low as $280.

As LOW as $280? Really? And for that you get what, Drake Maye being eaten alive this time by the ravenous Seahawk pass rush?

"As low as $280." Yeesh.

And, yes, before you start, I'm sure you can get tickets for a much more reasonable price on one of the many online Tickets-R-Us sites. But the point pertains: Goodell's oligarch's playground more and more is becoming accessible only to other oligarchs.

For instance, let's check out some other Week 1 games.

For New Orleans at Detroit, you can get Tickets As Low As $191. 

For Green Bay at Minnesota, $197.

For Bears at Carolina -- Carolina, for pity's sake, the number is $160. For Washington at Philadelphia, $211 (fan brawl not included). Denver at Kansas City on Monday night?

Tickets As Low As $202 to watch Patrick Mahomes hopefully not get hurt again.

"What about our Indianapolis Colts?" Blue Crew fan is asking.

Well, you're in luck, For Baltimore at Indy, you can get tickets for as low as $78. For that, plus parking and concessions, you can take the whole family and get out for under four bills! Sweet.

"Are there any games where a workaday Joe could rub elbows with all the hedge-fund asshats and tech-bro pirates?" you're asking now.

Well, as a matter of fact ...

Just checked the "Tickets" heading next to the New York Jets at Tennessee, and guess what?

You can a ticket for as low as $20 for that one.

Twenty bucks! Of course, you have to sit through the Jets and Titans.

Otherwise ...

Welcome to Roger Goodell's bread-and-circus. Bring lots of the former.

States rights

 (And here we go with another Escape From Sportsball World. Hall passes for all who qualify.)

Lots of dopey senators, representatives and other politicos responded seriously to President Donald John "Look! A Squirrel!" Trump's latest dopey post the other day, which only went to show that A) the whole country is dopey now; and B) if you let a 3-year-old loose with a marker, stuff is gonna happen.

The post in question, see, featured Donald John showing a graphic of New Mexico in which the word "Mexico" is markered out and replaced with "America." As always it's anyone's guess what prompted this, although there are a couple of possibilities.

One is that Fearless Leader thought actual Americans were suggesting this, when it in fact was a piece of internet satire. The other is it was F.L. trolling everyone again, and the aforementioned dopey politicians falling for it by getting all outraged. 

In which case the politicians' proper responses should have been this:

1. Laugh and say, "I see someone left the President unsupervised again."

2. Laugh and say, "'New America.' Awww, that's so cute."

The Blob being the Blob, of course, I have questions. If New Mexico is New America, does this mean all the other states are Old America? And how do they feel about that? Does Nevada or Arizona or Utah rise up and say "Hey! We're New, too! We got indoor plumbin' and ever'thing!"?

Also, what could we rename other states, following Fearless Leader's lead?

A few suggestions:

* Nebraska becomes "West Iowa."

* Iowa becomes "East Nebraska."

* Wyoming and Colorado merge to become "The Republic of Square States."

* North and South Dakota swap names to see if anyone notices.

* Ditto Oregon and Washington.

* Indiana becomes "North Mississippi."

* Mississippi becomes "South Indiana."

* Illinois becomes "West Hammond."

And last but not least ...

* Texas becomes "New Mexico."

Or, you know, "Old Mexico." 

Hat tricks

 Doug Eddings -- aka "Cranky Old Man Shouting At Clouds" -- shoulda known better. You indeed start shouting at clouds, the clouds aren't gonna shout back. 

They're just gonna laugh at you.

And so journey back to Friday night, when Eddings, a major-league umpire, let his inner coot out to play awhile. When St. Louis rookie Hansel Rincon came the mound for his first appearance in the bigs, Eddings looked at the slightly crooked way Rincon was wearing his cap, and ordered him to straighten it.

No, really. I'm serious.

That brought St. Louis manager Oliver Marmol out of the dugout, asking Eddings why he was picking on the kid, and what the hell, besides. Eddings responded that Rincon wasn't going to wear his cap like that on HIS field, which might have prompted Marmol to ask when exactly Eddings bought a stake in Busch Stadium, but probably didn't.

What he did say, however, prompted Eddings to throw him out of the game. For which Marmol should have gotten an extra cookie from Cardinals' management for standing up to a bully who was picking on the smallest kid on the block, a least metaphorically.

Anyway, long story short, the very next night, with Eddings on the call again ... well, a blind man could have seen what was coming. And Eddings should have seen it coming.

Every player in the Cardinals dugout was wearing his cap crooked. 

Left yourself wide open for that one, Dougie. 

Notre Dame is ...

 ... over-hyped as usual.

... pretty damn good, maybe.

... not 0-1 at least.

After last night in Lambeau Field, any and all of the above apply.

Against Wisconsin, decked out in what looked like Indiana University tribute uniforms -- all red -- the Irish chugged to a 13-10 halftime lead, leaving no doubt (to use head coach Marcus Freeman's current mantra) that they were again another cardboard cutout posing as the No. 4 team in the nation.

Ah, but in the second half ...

In the second half, they really did leave no doubt.

Put together cross-country excursions of  70, 75 and 88 yards. Got three touchdowns from their re-tooled running game, Aneyas Williams and Noah James. Got 133 yards and a touchdown from presumptive Heisman Trophy candidate C.J. Carr, who was 10-of-13 passing in the second half after looking startlingly pedestrian in the first half.

Oh, yes: And Notre Dame outscored Wisky 28-3 to blow out the Badgers 41-13. Which is kinda what you're supposed to do when you're the No. 4 team in the nation playing a team that was an un-Wisconsin-like 4-8 last year.

So there you have it: The Irish are over-hyped as usual ... no, wait, pretty damn good, actually ... well, at least not 0-1.

The last is especially relevant, because early losses have haunted the Golden Domes the last couple of seasons, and flat-out wrecked them in 2025. An 0-2 start with close losses to Texas A&M and Miami doomed Irish chances to reach the College Football Playoff, even if they were playing some of the best ball in the country by the end of the season.

The CFP snub was followed by the Irish declining to play a bowl game, which frankly made them look like the we're-Notre-Dame-and-you're-not elitists the Notre Dame haters think they are. And then when the buzz started up around this year's team ...

More fuel to the haters' fire.

Because, listen, when you lose two premier running backs (Jeremiyah Love and Jadarian Price) to the NFL and some folks are saying this team actually could be better -- like, national-championship better -- more than just he haters are going to raise a skeptical eyebrow. And raise it even higher after watching the Irish in the first half last night.

Second half?

That looked like the Notre Dame some were promising.

How promising?

Beats me. Did they look like a team that could bring home Notre Dame's first national title in 38 years? Maybe. Possibly. Was one sparkling half against an outmatched opponent a sufficient sample size to determine that?

Maybe. Possibly.

But probably not.

And so, as ever ... onward.

Bloody tough

 Kept flipping back and forth between Indiana-North Texas and Ball State-Ohio State yesterday afternoon, and, listen, don't be laughing at the second. In a weekend of upsets and near-upsets, my Cardinals pulled off a couple.

"Um, they lost 56-3. Are you on drugs?" you're saying now.

No. I'm just looking the world through the lens of my perspective.

My perspective is the Cards pulled off an upset when Brody Boehm legged a 54-yard field goal in the second quarter, depriving No. 1 Ohio State of the shutout. And my perspective is the Cards were tougher than a shoe-leather mignon because it took the Buckeyes until the 1:55 mark of the fourth quarter to beat the 50-point spread.

Another upset. Victory was ours.

In Bloomington, meanwhile, Indiana's new quarterback, threw four touchdown passes, missed on just three throws (13-of-16), and bled all over himself after getting his helmet ripped off on a brutal facemask.

But he got up, a rivulet of blood trickling from a cut on the bridge of his nose, and figuratively rubbed some dirt on it. Because there he was calling signals on the next play, blood on his facemask and chinstrap and jersey, the very embodiment of Curt Cignetti's culture of guts-up toughness.

And speaking of toughness ...

Indiana punished North Texas, 52-16. Also, they have a running back named Turbo Richard, who breached the end zone twice.

Turbo Richard! Now there's a tough-guy name if there ever was one.

A throwback do-over

 Know what's great about college football, other than the fact it's college football?

What's great about college football is it can, as Cher used to sing, turn back time. Both literally and figuratively.

And so come with us now to Saturday night, a mass o' humanity in the Big House in Ann Arbor, Mich., Bryce Underwood down there wallowing around as the clock leaned toward zeroes. He squares up. Heaves the football into the September night. Watches it sail to the back of the end zone as the clock not only leans toward but hits zeroes -- 0:00 -- before a Western Michigan player knocks it down.

Game over! Omigod! Western Michigan wins, 12-7!

Except ...

Except the game is not over.

Despite the zeroes on the clock, the officials say there's actually a smidge of a second hiding there somewhere because the Western Michigan player stepped beyond the backline before touching the football, automatically stopping the clock. So they put the ball down at the 47 again, Bryce Underwood took the snap and heaved the ball into the September night again, and THIS time it came down in the hands of Michigan receiver JJ Buchanan for an incredible Hail Mary six.

Game over! Again! Michigan wins, 13-12!

The fans storm the field, probably the first time in Big House history they stormed the field because the Wolverines barely beat a MAC school.  And Western Michigan ... well, Western Michigan done got Alexander Belov-ed.

Alexander Belov, for those who either don't know or don't remember, was the big Russian galoot who outmuscled two Americans for the basketball on a court-length pass and laid it in to give the Soviets the upset win in the 1972 Olympic gold medal game. 

This was after the clock had run out, and the officials said, nah, you're hearin' things, there's really still time left. So they put three seconds back on the clock. Then they did it a second time when the clock ran out again.

Given that second do-over, Belov done Belov-ed 'em. Game over (finally)! Omigod! Commies win!

So there we were again Saturday night, on the first big Saturday of college football, thrown back to 1972 again. Everyone was wearing pucca shells, plaid, cuffed bellbottoms and clogs. Everyone was listening to Black Sabbath and Elton John. JJ Buchanan was Alexander Belov, and Western Michigan coach Lance Taylor was U.S. basketball coach Hank Iba, wondering what the hell just happened.

I know what happened. Time travel happened. And college football.

Which used to feature glorious arguments about who's No. 1, and now will feature a glorious argument about whether or not Western Michigan got screwed or just homered by the Michigan zebras.

Headline in Ann Arbor today: Hail Mary! Michigan Wins, 13-12!

Headline in Kalamazoo: Phantom Second Beats Broncos, 13-12

Or, you know, something like that.

Counting chickens

The Labor Day weekend, and therefore college football, has barely begun, and already we have a clear frontrunner for the Fubar Of The Year Award Sponsored By Yugo -- aka the Ford Edsel Oopsie Award, aka the Exploding Pinto Snafu Award, aka the New Coke Oh Hell I Crapped My Pants Trophy.

Come on down, you Rutgers Scarlet Knights!

Who planned a big opening night celebration, complete with fireworks, after they crushed sacrificial lamb UMass, which is not an authentic big-boy school but a Mid-American Conference school that went 0-12 last season and hadn't beaten an FBS school since 2023.

So what happened?

You know what happened: UMass 37, Rutgers 21.

"I'm guessing they canceled the fireworks," you're saying now.

Wrong, bucko!

Apparently someone didn't get the word, so the fireworks went off as scheduled. Talk about the fubar of all fubars. Hey, look, everyone, fireworks to celebrate getting eaten by the cupcake we scheduled! 'Cause football is BACK, BABY and we are BIG-TIME!

Yikes.

Now, some will say this was a bigger (huge-r?) upset than Appalachian State marching into the Big House some years back and taking down Michigan. Nah. I mean, sure, App State was an FCS powerhouse and UMass is ... well, UMass. But Rutgers ain't exactly Michigan, either.

Frankly it's a school that probably ought to be in the MAC itself, because it has no business playing football in the Big Ten. It doesn't fit the profile, and if for sure doesn't fit the footprint, not that that matters anymore. The Big Ten abandoned its footprint some time back to go grasping for dollars.

Now Rutgers, and also Maryland, are "Big Ten schools" because the conference wanted to expand the Big Ten Network into the East Coast TV markets. And UCLA, USC, Oregon and Washington are "Big Ten schools" because the conference wanted to do the same thing on the West Coast.

None of this is legit, of course. You can call a rhinoceros an SUV but that doesn't make it one.

In any case, more than just the uniforms are red these days in New Brunswick, N.J. This will happen when you put a W on the board before you've actually played the game, which is why wiser heads never do that. Even Lou Holtz knew to be scared to death of Rice before going out and beating the Owls eleventy-hundred to seven or whatever.

Then again, there is a bit of solace for poor Rutgers here. Dubious though it might be.

On this first full weekend of college football, the Scarlet Knights lead the nation in number of unhatched chickens counted.

So, you know, they've got that going for them.