Better Dead Than Red
Well, here we are again folks. Basking in the morning after glow of Saturday’s thrilling win — more on that below — I took a drive through Rocky Mountain National Park with my wife when she nearly shrieked, “Oh! Ben’s blog is up!” She proceeded to orate my good friend Benjamin Burrows’ triumphant return to the legendary blog, The Rumblings of a Deranged Buffalo. Though about 4,000 words shorter than his standard and nearly two years since his farewell, Ben’s recap of Colorado’s 34–31 victory over they-who-shall-not-be-named stirred something inside of me.
If one of us from the old guard might pick up, in his words, the virtual quill then dammit, let’s get the band back together. So here I am, still finding myself jonesing for a hit of whatever the hell Mel Tucker fed his team at halftime before curb stomping the children of Lincoln into the Folsom Field grass for the final 30 minutes. Here I am, on the third floor of the Millennium Harvest House Hotel, looking up at the Flatirons as they soak up their morning sun and pounding away on my keyboard about them Colorado Buffaloes. Nostalgia feels mighty fine indeed, particularly after a weekend like it was.
But first, some background.
As some of you who used to read my work on BuffScoop, BuffStampede, and BSNBuffs know, it’s been a long road to get here. For nearly the entirety of my 20s I covered Colorado athletics for one publication or another watching coaching staff after coaching staff fail to get the ship back on course, even to the tugboat like pace of Gary Barnett’s eventual 7–5 purgatory. There was Dan Hawkins’ Holy Toledo, a 54–38 drubbing that wasn’t nearly as close as the score indicated. There was Jon Embree’s cursed trip to California’s Central Valley, a 69–14 shit kicking at the hands of Fresno State. Finally, after falling to 1–8 in conference play to finish off Mike MacIntyre’s third season, I wondered if the book had already been written on the Buffaloes’ time in college football’s club of the relevant. Even following the barn storming season that was 2016, Mac’s staff pulled off the incredibly feat of literally not capitalizing on a single ounce of momentum built. Finding a way to lose 10 straight games in the face of bowl eligibility ushered in the Mel Tucker era we find ourselves in now. An era that, as we all know, started off with two wins over two programs that can rightly go play in traffic.
Rivalries are the life blood of college football. If Stanford and Cal didn’t hold such coastal elite academia grudges against each other, the band being on the field wouldn’t feel nearly as significant. If Texas and Oklahoma didn’t actually try to castrate each other, the Longhorns wouldn’t have had any relevance since Colt McCoy last holstered the UT playbook. Rivalries make the CFB world go ‘round and without them, we’d have only our own misery to deal with every Saturday. Unless you’re Clemson or Alabama, but you’re not.
Since leaving the Big 12, Colorado has been lost at sea. The manufactured Rumble in the Rockies is dumb, plain and simple. I don’t hate Utah or its fans; they don’t hate me. There has been one game of any real significance in the series since both found themselves in the Conference of Champions and the rest have been snowball fights featuring Thanksgiving Week hangovers. Meh. Any other feelings of animosity for Pac-12 foes have come from the hardwood, where Tad Boyle (praise be) has a penchant for taking care of Arizona in Boulder and nut punching Dana Altman on a semi-regular basis. But come the Fall, when Folsom Field is supposed to be the shiny altar upon which the country views our fair University, it’s been crickets. In that void, Colorado State, via the Rocky Mountain Showdown, has become the highlighted game on each year’s schedule. Sure, it’s a game that comes with at least one thing at stake: should the Buffaloes lose, you can count on two or three fingers how many games they’re going to win that season. Sure, there are some emotional wins to be had, namely not having to pay attention to Rams fans we might actually encounter in real life — the one or two times that might happen during one’s time on Earth. But in the last 15 meetings, a span that has seen just two winning seasons for CU, the Buffs are 11–4. In the last four meetings, Colorado has outscored their opponents from the North by a whopping total of 158–54. The young’ns in Boulder may get their rocks off by trouncing State but those of us who have seen better days, those of us who watched Medford Moorer pick-six Chris Simms, had one date circled on our calendars.
On Sept. 8, 2018 there would be a football game in Nebraska, 30 miles west of Omaha and 499 miles east of civilization. Steven Montez and Laviska Shenault happened. The score 33–28 happened. A dormant, Big 8 rivalry was once again renewed and at least for that day (and frankly, the ensuing 364 days) all felt right with the world. Colorado vs. Nebraska was back.
As anyone who has interacted with a representative of Big Red knowns, one does not simply beat Nebraska in their building. Winning football games is a birthright for the Corn, or so they think, and any impediment on such a blessing must have come at the expense of decency and the almighty Creator himself. So, when the Freeballin’ boys turned Lincoln into their own personal Animal House, you had to know Nebraska fans would have a score to settle.
Okay, I’ll say it. That was *a lot* of fucking red in Folsom Field on Saturday.
Colorado AD Rick George postured as much as he could through the media and the department’s ticket office did all that they could to ensure tickets to Saturday’s game ended up in the hands of Buffs fans. Still, not only did the Huskers predictably sell out their allotment of tickets but it was those same Buffs fans who turned in a chance to watch the game of the year for a few hundred bucks. However, as we know, asses in the stands don’t wear cleats.
So many of the questions that remained from CU’s opening week win over the Rams seemed unfortunately answered as kNU jogged into the halftime locker room with a 17–0 lead over the hosts. Colorado’s offensive line buckled under pressure and the defense that looked slow against Mountain West talent once again found themselves playing catch up to an opponent. Jeers from the home crowd left no one unscathed, namely quarterback Steven Montez, offensive coordinator Jay Johnson, and head coach Mel Tucker. The game plan was conservative. It was soft. It was unbecoming of the home team in a rivalry game with NFL-talent all over the offensive side of the ball.
In the halftime beer line, I overheard a conversation between a jilted CU fan and what I assumed was a visitor from the distant grasslands of I-80 dressed in red. Predictably, that Nebraska alumnus settled himself in the promised land of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. When asked to quantify his faith in Scott Frost, he issued what would prove an ominous reply. “Look, it’s a shitty place to live first of all. And if someone is going to bring us back it’s going to be him. If not…” WELP.
If you have never seen a turtle retreat into the friendly confines of its shell, might I point you towards the strawberry-blue-balled-bust of a head coach currently roaming the sidelines under Tom Osbourne’s shuttering eyes. Frost has that “first guy off the bus” build along with all of the charming over compensation one expects from a former Nebraska quarterback. Playing not to lose is a great way to get beat and when you do it on the road, in front of some 25,000 of your fans who used their life savings to watch you get sucker punched under the Flatirons, maybe you should take notice for future dealings. Snitches get stitches Scotty boy or didn’t you know?
As for the Buffs, what is there to say that hasn’t already been said? The depth of this WR corps was showcased as KD Nixon, Tony Brown, and others made game changing plays all over the field. Montez settled in and looked like the NFL Draft hopeful we expected as a senior. After a full year of enduring the self-righteous bullshit of an entire fan base with nothing to hang their hats on but their football program’s glory days of yesterday, Dear Old CU restored order and put the rubber stamp on the first leg of this revived series. Standing there on the green grass of Folsom and staring up at the scoreboard, all felt right in the world.
I can’t promise that I will write after every game that Colorado plays this year. Life, as you all well know, happens. But I do hope to see all of you back here soon, ideally discussing a 3–0 start to the year and prepping for Tucker’s first run through the Pac-12 Conference. Until then…Glory, glory Colorado and, as always, Hurrah for the Silver and Gold.
