I don't believe in ghosts. But for a week or so, I had some second thoughts.
Was it the ghosts of ancient Sparta that inhabit the Michigan State stadium bearing their name - ghosts putting their hex on the visiting Badgers - causing the blocked field goal and that blocked punt going for a touchdown? And that freakish last-second "Hail Mary" pass?
But no, it happened again the following week at Ohio State. Déjà vu. Another blocked punt going for an OSU touchdown, and another long pass in the final moments, snatching Badger defeat from the jaws of victory. Ancient Sparta may have ghosts lurking about. But there can be no such thing as Buckeye ghosts.
Alas. As with all ghostly apparitions, there is a more rational, though depressing, explanation. The Wisconsin Badgers are a good, even excellent, football team. But not a championship team. Championship teams don't give up blocked punts for game-deciding touchdowns on successive weeks.
The ink-stained scribes have concentrated almost exclusively on those two passes in the waning moments; with nary a word about the blocked punts that would have made those passes unnecessary, futile, or irrelevant. But then, these scribblers characteristically focus on the sensational instead of the fundamental.
But why should we worry? I have long maintained that we can't let the performance of a few college boys, or highly paid mercenaries of the pros, dictate our quality of life.
Or, so I have professed. So why did I, along with countless other cheeseheads, take so hard those two heart-rending losses by the team that bears our state name? It's irrational.
Bingo, that's it. It has absolutely nothing to do with reason and logic - it's emotional. Whether it's in love, war, politics, or sport, emotions play a larger role in thought and action than we care to admit. These emotions are genetically hard-wired, tied to tribalism and territorialism, products of our human evolution.
Families and tribes that survived and flourished depended on protective guys carrying big sticks - warriors - to ward off human and natural enemies. The young athletes of today are the cultural counterparts of the ancient warriors defending tribe and territory, representing us to the cold, heartless, broader world.
There is an imaginary line extending from Lake Michigan to the Mississippi River - the Wisconsin-Illinois state line. Those flatlanders from Illinois are not literally invading the land of the cheeseheads. In fact, we welcome them. Bring money, and leave some of it here. Yet, those of us barely north of the line, of the cheesehead tribe, identify with the cardinal and white of the University of Wisconsin and the green and gold of Green Bay. Those south of the line, of the flatlander tribe, identify with the orange and blue of both the University of Illinois and the Chicago Bears.
So, it's largely tribal and territorial, but not totally. Green Bay's national fan base, including people who have never set foot in the Cheese State, may identify with the small town mystique of Green Bay: population less than 100,000. Fans throughout the nation like that the Packers are communally owned by thousands of stockholders rather than by a few tycoons who can afford expensive toys. Hence, the Packers will always be in Green bay; never moved to a larger market.
Team loyalty sometimes includes affection for the underdog. Before Wisconsin had Major League Baseball, a pal and I followed the hapless St. Louis Browns faithfully, knowing they would never rise above seventh place in the old American League. And what would happen to the Chicago Cubs if they would win a World Series? Their infinitely patient fans would be rewarded. But might it not be with mixed blessing? No longer the lovable winless - and harmless - Cubbies.
But I digress. I still say it's largely territorial. We Midwesterners get sick and tired of "experts" jacking their jaws over the superiority of the Southeastern Football Conference. And we get tremendously let down when Wisconsin, touted as having a shot at the national stage to knock one of those giants off, blows it with blocked punts on successive weeks, reaffirming and increasing the endless aggravating babble by and about the Southeast. The South used to control Congress. Now they control football. It's maddening.
Territorialism also affects the ardor of the tribal fan base. Of the nine states harboring the 12 "Big 10" teams, only Iowa and Nebraska have no professional football teams. And even in Iowa, tribal loyalty is divided between the University of Iowa Hawkeyes and the Iowa State University Cyclones.
This leaves only Nebraska with no professional team and no other major university to dilute tribal loyalty. Thus, not surprisingly, the University of Nebraska probably has a larger share of their tribal population emotionally involved with their team than that of any team in the country. Every Nebraskan lives for the success of their Cornhuskers. Every prep player in Nebraska dreams of someday playing for Nebraska. That explains the success of their walk-on program and their unusually large share of home state players, especially for a big time program in a small state.
So, letting the fate of some college boys get us down is irrational. But it's tough to see so much hard work on the part of the kids, so much good coaching, and a shot at a national championship jettisoned by two blocked punts. It would be easier if we could blame the lurking ghosts of ancient Sparta.
The sun will still rise tomorrow. And UW-Madison is still a great academic institution. And the Badgers are still a good, even excellent, team, almost certain to play in a major bowl game. That's rational.
But not in the big enchilada. That's tough - and we can be forgiven if we're a bit emotional about it. We can't help it. We're genetically hard-wired to be that way.
- John Waelti of Monroe can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net. His column appears each Friday in The Monroe Times.
Was it the ghosts of ancient Sparta that inhabit the Michigan State stadium bearing their name - ghosts putting their hex on the visiting Badgers - causing the blocked field goal and that blocked punt going for a touchdown? And that freakish last-second "Hail Mary" pass?
But no, it happened again the following week at Ohio State. Déjà vu. Another blocked punt going for an OSU touchdown, and another long pass in the final moments, snatching Badger defeat from the jaws of victory. Ancient Sparta may have ghosts lurking about. But there can be no such thing as Buckeye ghosts.
Alas. As with all ghostly apparitions, there is a more rational, though depressing, explanation. The Wisconsin Badgers are a good, even excellent, football team. But not a championship team. Championship teams don't give up blocked punts for game-deciding touchdowns on successive weeks.
The ink-stained scribes have concentrated almost exclusively on those two passes in the waning moments; with nary a word about the blocked punts that would have made those passes unnecessary, futile, or irrelevant. But then, these scribblers characteristically focus on the sensational instead of the fundamental.
But why should we worry? I have long maintained that we can't let the performance of a few college boys, or highly paid mercenaries of the pros, dictate our quality of life.
Or, so I have professed. So why did I, along with countless other cheeseheads, take so hard those two heart-rending losses by the team that bears our state name? It's irrational.
Bingo, that's it. It has absolutely nothing to do with reason and logic - it's emotional. Whether it's in love, war, politics, or sport, emotions play a larger role in thought and action than we care to admit. These emotions are genetically hard-wired, tied to tribalism and territorialism, products of our human evolution.
Families and tribes that survived and flourished depended on protective guys carrying big sticks - warriors - to ward off human and natural enemies. The young athletes of today are the cultural counterparts of the ancient warriors defending tribe and territory, representing us to the cold, heartless, broader world.
There is an imaginary line extending from Lake Michigan to the Mississippi River - the Wisconsin-Illinois state line. Those flatlanders from Illinois are not literally invading the land of the cheeseheads. In fact, we welcome them. Bring money, and leave some of it here. Yet, those of us barely north of the line, of the cheesehead tribe, identify with the cardinal and white of the University of Wisconsin and the green and gold of Green Bay. Those south of the line, of the flatlander tribe, identify with the orange and blue of both the University of Illinois and the Chicago Bears.
So, it's largely tribal and territorial, but not totally. Green Bay's national fan base, including people who have never set foot in the Cheese State, may identify with the small town mystique of Green Bay: population less than 100,000. Fans throughout the nation like that the Packers are communally owned by thousands of stockholders rather than by a few tycoons who can afford expensive toys. Hence, the Packers will always be in Green bay; never moved to a larger market.
Team loyalty sometimes includes affection for the underdog. Before Wisconsin had Major League Baseball, a pal and I followed the hapless St. Louis Browns faithfully, knowing they would never rise above seventh place in the old American League. And what would happen to the Chicago Cubs if they would win a World Series? Their infinitely patient fans would be rewarded. But might it not be with mixed blessing? No longer the lovable winless - and harmless - Cubbies.
But I digress. I still say it's largely territorial. We Midwesterners get sick and tired of "experts" jacking their jaws over the superiority of the Southeastern Football Conference. And we get tremendously let down when Wisconsin, touted as having a shot at the national stage to knock one of those giants off, blows it with blocked punts on successive weeks, reaffirming and increasing the endless aggravating babble by and about the Southeast. The South used to control Congress. Now they control football. It's maddening.
Territorialism also affects the ardor of the tribal fan base. Of the nine states harboring the 12 "Big 10" teams, only Iowa and Nebraska have no professional football teams. And even in Iowa, tribal loyalty is divided between the University of Iowa Hawkeyes and the Iowa State University Cyclones.
This leaves only Nebraska with no professional team and no other major university to dilute tribal loyalty. Thus, not surprisingly, the University of Nebraska probably has a larger share of their tribal population emotionally involved with their team than that of any team in the country. Every Nebraskan lives for the success of their Cornhuskers. Every prep player in Nebraska dreams of someday playing for Nebraska. That explains the success of their walk-on program and their unusually large share of home state players, especially for a big time program in a small state.
So, letting the fate of some college boys get us down is irrational. But it's tough to see so much hard work on the part of the kids, so much good coaching, and a shot at a national championship jettisoned by two blocked punts. It would be easier if we could blame the lurking ghosts of ancient Sparta.
The sun will still rise tomorrow. And UW-Madison is still a great academic institution. And the Badgers are still a good, even excellent, team, almost certain to play in a major bowl game. That's rational.
But not in the big enchilada. That's tough - and we can be forgiven if we're a bit emotional about it. We can't help it. We're genetically hard-wired to be that way.
- John Waelti of Monroe can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net. His column appears each Friday in The Monroe Times.
