In this episode of the Straight from the Cornfield Podcast, I discuss Nebraska’s flaws defensively against Wisconsin, dissect the new gameplan from Nebraska’s offense, and spin forward to Jordan Stevenson’s future, and the rest of the season and next year.
In this episode of Straight from the Cornfield podcast (formerly Maximum Red), I cover that 3rd-and-7 disaster and what it showed us about Tommy Armstrong’s and Mike Riley’s relationship, plus the foilables of Riley’s air-raid, Alex Lewis, and what you’re fearing about Nebraska’s football programs moving forward. Finally, we look forward to the rest of the season and Wisconsin.
Snow drives me crazy. From the multiple layers required just to go outside, to the shoveling, to the reduced outside time, snow creates so much extra angst. And since my place doesn’t have an attached garage, even getting to my car becomes an adventure.
But I think snow really helps culture. You get perspective when it snows and realize that stuff outside your control sometimes runs your life. Yes, it’s annoying and sometimes conducive to the spread of disease, but snow has taught me a lot of patience.
So when New York City bans people from leaving their homes during a snow storm or Seward cancels Monday school at noon on Sunday, I roll my eyes. What can we do?
The first bad decision was made the night before. Around 9:20, I was in the kitchen slicing cucumbers to pickle. In the morning, I was supposed to get up and go to take a promo picture with our grower who lives in Page, Nebraska. I looked up at the clock, and feeling energetic, I thought, I can probably can these pickles in half an hour, right? Why wait until Thursday to do it?
Long story short, I fell asleep after midnight and woke up at 5:40, knowing it was going to be a long day, even if it was a trip I’d been looking forward to.
I have a two ideas about where I’d move if I’d ever left Seward. One, hit a large city and assimilate and try everything. The other, head west into the great beyond of western Nebraska, Wyoming, or other somewhere else on the high plains. Last Wednesday, I ventured out into the that Western sky that has been calling my name all summer. My eastward travel this year has made me apathetic toward taking a short trip westward, until a real reason came about.
I got up and grabbed my energy drink of choice (Starbucks Refresh-it doesn’t dehydrate a person) and pressed west through all the communities whose names I heard growing up on Sports Overtime. York. Stromsburg. Albion. All out on these high plains. Corn and soybean country gradually turning into ranching country, a town of 3,000 being a mid-sized city instead of a small town.
Rural Iowa and rural Nebraska are very different. The further you get away from population centers of over 100,000, the more the area changes. For one, you see a lot more signs for high school teams than anywhere else in the country. At most, these people make to a couple of Husker games a year, if that. The high school team is your major college or NFL team. It’s surprising how many new homes and new medical buildings line the streets of small towns. More money is making its way out of the city.
You look out over these plains, and there is so much independence. Or at the least, the illusion of independence in the bright summer sun shimmering down on the faded grass. There are no more lands left to pioneer, but these lands are not bad for the occasional adventure.