50-52-5
7-7 last week and another week of doing basically nothing, I have been so poor this season that I'm starting to wonder when I'm going to have another big week, I sort of had a bad feeling going into Saturday after I added Cincy 2nd half to go with the game I already had, obviously ended up losing both plays and could have easily won both plays, that was kind of the way my week went, I was really surprised to see Brown go the full game without a turnover, the Neers seem to play to stay close, weird game
Random Thoughts (if they offend you then don't read)
I went 1-3 ats in the SEC as I usually do, I really dislike that conference and don't know why I continue to bet the games, I'm the best SEC fade in the house, check to see who I'm on in the SEC and bet against me, you will come out ahead
it is games like Tennessee that baffle me in that conference, I mean seriously, how hard is it to gameplan for Ole Miss?????? Monte Kiffin is supposed to be one of the best defensive minds in the game, so what exactly was he thinking when preparing for Ole Miss?? Here is an idea Monte, STACK THE FUCKING BOX AND MAKE SNEAD BEAT YOU, DON'T LET THEM AVERAGE 10 YARDS PER CARRY FOR THE ENTIRE GAME!!!!!!!! that seriously could be the worst gameplan I have ever seen from someone who is supposed to be a defensive mastermind, what a joke
Congrats to Ohio State for making it to the Rose Bowl, you guys had another great season. Is it normal that you guys rush the field after beating Iowa's Scout Team by 3 points in OVERTIME on your own home field with the Big 10 Title on the line???? Has it really come to that in Columbus? Are the fans as thrilled with this title as their joke of a coach? I couldn't help but laugh when I read Pat Forde's column in ESPN today, it is truly awesome and tells the story of what Tressel Ball really means, I will copy and paste some of it because this article is a beauty, bolded below are his quotes
You might be the most conservative coach in America, but you don't care. You obsessively play not to lose, instead of playing to win, but you don't apologize. You often allow less-talented teams to stay in games -- like the gutty Hawkeyes -- because of your buttoned-down dogma, but that's who you are.
You don't worry about your three-game bowl losing streak, or your recent futility against ranked nonconference opponents, or the fact that being the best team in the Big Ten means being a cut below the best teams in the nation these days. You don't listen to the people who squawk about the squandering of quarterback Terrelle Pryor's talents, or the people who howl at your affinity for punts, or the people who wonder what unholy circumstance would force you to ever take a certifiable football gamble.
You shrug when critics wonder why your team is 10th in the Big Ten in passing offense, attempting the fewest passes per game of any team in the league. You prefer the stats that show your team at the top of the league in rushing defense, total defense and turnover margin.
You point to your record -- now 92-21 at Ohio State -- and let it speak for itself.
Your 92nd victory was TresselBall in a microcosm. All that was good about it. All that was bad.
Your team pounded between the tackles for 229 rushing yards. Your team did not commit a turnover, while forcing three. Your defense made the last stop, when it had to. And your kicker made the last kick, when he had to.
But this is TresselBall, too:
Your team blew a two-touchdown lead in the fourth quarter in part by crawling even deeper into your familiar offensive shell. You were conservative in coming from ahead at home against USC, too, but this took it to another level.
The longest of your team's three passes in the final quarter went for 3 yards. Your final three offensive possessions of the game featured 12 runs and two passes, gaining a total of 31 yards and resulting in 3 points.
You recruited the No. 1 quarterback in the country two years ago, a player of lavish physical gifts. Yet here at the end of his 21st career start, with the Big Ten title on the line, you trusted the sandlot sophomore about as much as you'd trust a felon to be your house sitter.
You sat on the ball in the middle of the fourth quarter with great field position, starting on Iowa's side of the 50. You ran up the middle six straight times and left your backup kicker with a 47-yard field goal try to clinch the game. He missed. And then Iowa drove 70 amazing yards to tie the game with 2:42 left.
You got the ball back with plenty of time to go for the win. But from the moment you gave Pryor his most urgent instruction ("Don't turn the ball over") it was obvious that going for the win was hardly the first priority.
You took 1:38 to run five tentative plays, then punted it back to the Hawkeyes. You ignored the boos emanating from the 105,455 fans in Ohio Stadium, because you adhered to the TresselBall dogma: you avoided mistakes.
Your conservatism was rewarded when Iowa coach Kirk Ferentz responded in kind, running out the clock and playing for overtime. This suddenly seemed like the famous 10-10 tie between Michigan State and Notre Dame -- a game played in 1966, when the hurry-up offense was far from its current modern science and the passing game was rudimentary.
You and Ferentz are kindred spirits. Good coaches. Successful coaches. Yet your combined management of the end of this game is why the rest of the nation rolls its eyes at the bland Big Ten.
But do you care? No. You don't care. Because here in this tunnel-visioned, tradition-addicted conference, going to the Rose Bowl is just about as joyful a result as playing for the national title.
And you don't care because even after the fans voiced their dismay, hyper-conservatism triumphed in the end. Your painful-to-watch pragmatism was rewarded. The Vest knew best.







