The Explorers Club
No. LII – The wreck of the White Ship on 25 November 1120 and its deleterious aftermath, culminating in the Anarchy.






The Victors: Misery Misery Misery
At moments like this, I always call to mind something Keith Primeau said after the Red Wings were swept by the fiendish New Jersey Devils in the 1995 Stanley Cup Finals. The Red Wings slunk away to their locker room while their foes reveled in the triumph and each Devil hoisted Lord Stanley's Cup over his head, basking in the glory of the moment, but Primeau had wanted to stay out on the ice and watch the Devils. He had wanted to suffer, to make the pain of that defeat as exquisite as possible. He had wanted to take that devastation and use it as fuel for later achievement. And though Primeau himself was traded by the Red Wings before the 1996-97 season, the first of Detroit's three contemporary Stanley Cup victories, I have always believed in the veracity of his argument. I believe the failure of '95 was necessary in teaching the Wings how to win in '97, '98, and '02.

I wish I could just put my head in my hands and weep, but to do so would be unforgivably self-indulgent. The agony of defeat is the price we pay for the thrill of victory. 'Tis a bitter pill, but the only alternative is fair-weather fandom, the way of bandwagon hoppers and other moral degenerates. Honor demands constancy; I am as devoted a supporter of the University of Michigan today, in the aftermath of abject failure, as I was on November 22, 1997, when I joined a crowd of my fellows on the lawn of the President's House in celebration of the valiant Wolverines' triumph over the hated Buckeyes, completing an 11-0 regular season and setting the stage for the national championship-winning Rose Bowl victory on January 1, 1998. I'm a far grumpier and gloomier fan than I was on that cloudy November afternoon, but every bit as steadfast and stalwart. I danced on top of an S.U.V. that foolishly tried to make its way throw the jubilant throng that afternoon, before some drunken idiot fell out of a tree and gave us all a fright. Bog, that was a magnificent day. If your college has never won a national championship in your lifetime, I highly recommend the experience. It is every bit as grand as you'd imagine.

I want to make something clear. I do not want Lloyd Carr to retire, but it is necessary for the greater glory of Michigan. If he had his druthers, Lloyd wouldn't even field an offense, he'd only play defense. And I love that about him. Lloyd cares more about crafting his players into fine young men than winning the Big Ten championship, and that is as it should be; these are, after all, student-athletes. And given the low regard in which I hold the holier-than-thou bottomfeeders of the self-proclaimed Fourth Estate, you can guess how much I love Lloyd's gruff but hilarious dismissals of those jackals. I would love to see Lloyd stick around for a dog's age, but we haven't won a bowl game since January 1, 2003. We haven't beaten Ohio State since November 22, 2003. What exactly is the point of even having a football program if we are going to lose the last two games of every season? Winning isn't the only thing, but it must be something. If not, why even play the games?

There is so much more I want to say, but right now it is all jumbled up with my grief over yesterday's lost opportunities, of once again snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. If the aforementioned jackals are to be believed, Lloyd will announce his retirement tomorrow; so, I'll wind up opining on why I believe we need a new coach even after the decision has been taken to seek one. Of course, finer men than I have been overtaken by events; so, I shall at least be in esteemed company in fruitlessly speculating after the fact. But the jackals have been wrong before and they will be wrong again and there's naught for it but to wait and see what tomorrow brings.

Go Blue!

The Rebel Black Dot Song of the Day
No Doubt, "Sunday Morning" from Tragic Kingdom (T.L.A.M.)