The first half of Saturday's blowout against Rutgers took approximately five hundred years to complete. At one point the delays and commercials and timeouts all blended together into some kind of errant black hole, where my consciousness tipped over the event horizon of boredom and my attention span was spaghettified into a thousand four-dimensional strands of light that were then crushed into a hot, dense sphere in which time and football had no meaning.
The second half was better, I think.
THE TEAM
Proud of you brotha https://t.