When my teams are underdogs, I tend to spend the days leading up to the game imagining several different scenarios under which the good guys prevail. These scenarios include (but are definitely not limited to) last minute buzzer beaters, record-breaking individual performances and even an occasional improbable game-winning Hail Mary from the third string walk-on quarterback.
Needless to say, I was pretty bummed out when none of my scenarios came to fruition Saturday against Michigan. Thankfully, my thirst for drama on the gridiron was quenched later that night with Notre Dame's comeback victory over Michigan State.
It wasn't so much the utter meltdown of the Michigan State football team, nor the excitement of another thrilling Irish comeback to preserve their season, but instead the culmination of all these factors into that unmistakable look of utter pain and disbelief on the faces of the MSU fans.
I watched it again on ESPN Classic the next day, hoping to relish once more the exquisite grief on those faces. It might sound sadistic, but I assume it's the same reason people watch ""Jackass."" On one hand you've never seen something so despicably awful in your whole life, and on the other hand you're so immersed in their pain that you can't look away.
I admit it. Watching the evolution from jubilation to anxiety to nervousness to despair was completely enthralling. But come on, a freakish turn of events as your team loses under the worst possible conditions to a sworn enemy? Talk about a bummer.
Still, the real beauty of these moments is not in the actual letdown. The beauty and appeal of sports is in the fact that under the right conditions, it could just have easily been the other side. The fact that any team could win on any given Saturday is what makes college football beautiful, and it's why I haven't gotten anything productive done on a fall weekend since the Reagan administration (Hey, being conceived is hard work, but there's no TV).
Back to my point, the reason I was so enthralled was that I could see myself standing in that Michigan State student section, now more hungover than drunk, miserable because I'd just been pelted with rain for an hour. As the seconds ticked away and the MSU fans realized that their team's hopes had just disappeared under a monumental collapse, I could relive every painful sports memory I've had since I was a child.
Sometimes it makes me wonder why I even get so attached to sports in the first place. The emotional rollercoaster seems so trivial in retrospect, once the wounds have had time to heal and the prospect of a fresh new start looms on the horizon. There might come a day when the drama of a comeback doesn't do it for me anymore.
Then again, I'm fairly certain coach Bret Bielema will find I've got one heck of a Hail Mary arm.
If you'd like to be the recipient of Ryan's 60-yard touchdown bomb, e-mail him at gallentine@wisc.edu.
