After waking up with an earth shattering hangover  this morning I waited patiently for the room to stop spinning before I took stock of what happened the previous day. Wait. Why am I wearing one pant leg and one shoe? What a day it had been. The partying. The drinking. urp. Chili. Lots and lots of Chili. The non-stop cornea scratching image of Phil Sims sweating through his make up and beginning to look like the Nazi in Raiders of the Lost Ark right before his face melted.

Good God, the pre-game. There is nothing, I mean nothing, like listening to the nonsensical ramblings of Michael Irvin for four hours. It does explain the dream about Leon Lett providing me with enough cocaine to power a Motley Crue concert however. But there was something else that happened. Why am I thinking? My brain hurty-hurt-hurt. Sleep. No wait. It's coming back.

Dammit.

That's right. In one of the worst played Super Bowls in recent memory the Indianapolis Colts played less-bad enough to beat the Chicago Bears and claim the Super Bowl crown. A Colts victory does have its good points (e.g., Shutting Bill Simmons the hell up, Cato June and Marlin Jackson getting SB rings). Still, my team lost and looked positively Northwestern-esque in doing so.

Why? How did this happen? Should I throw up now or later? Rex. REx. REX. REX!

Throw up now.

Rex you stupid bastard, what the hell were you thinking? The game's close let's blow it open, THE WRONG WAY? I remember when you were at Florida putting up ungodly numbers in the Visor's perpetual motion offense. You were like Tommy in Pinball Wizard. You looked so good when you were in Gainesville.

Bratwurst tasted so good yesterday. Why does it taste so bad today?

Wait a second. Gainesville? Didn't Ian Scott go there too? Didn't he drop a surefire interception when Manning looked like he was playing the Patriots early in the game? Come to think of it didn't Alex Brown go to Florida too? He couldn't have found the offensive backfield last night if he'd been Dumbo dropped there. Todd Johnson was out on the field missing tackles all night too. He went to Florida.

Wait a second. They're all Florida grads. Now it's making sense.

With every patented Grossman-back-footed heave into double coverage I realized that not only were the Bears destined to lose Super Bowl XLI, but that the University of Florida is out to get me.

Add it all up. Adding hurts. Stop doing this Brain. Florida cost Michigan, my Michigan, a shot at the national title despite identical records. Then they kicked the tar out of the same OSU team that hung 40 plus on Michigan. Earlier that year the Gators basketball team cost me 500 buc... pats on the back in my office po... scrabble tournament last year. If UCLA wins the title game I win. Instead, the Gators cruelly devour my "thing that got Rick Neuheisel fired" entry. Now this.

I'm on to you Florida. And I'm pissed. I got a clip o' Gator-cide loaded up and I'm coming for you. It's not like you'll be hard to find.

Vengeance will be swift.

Next time you see me I'll be sporting these bad boys, made from the pelt of your endangered ass.