Shock the World

There are a lot of ways to tell that you're not right. And I don't mean correct or incorrect. I'm talking about being off, different, loony, [British]batty[/British]. You know? A man can tell that he's crazy in a lot of ways.

For some people, you can discern your descent into madness as you take your laundry from the wash-and-fold and re-fold everything before putting your clothes back into your closet while adhering to a complicated cross-referenced color, material, and pattern organization scheme. You may also confront lunacy during that time each day when you use disinfectant to wipe down your desk before going home. What's more, you might be forced to wonder about your sanity while you're administering a "punishment test," one that "teaches your roommates a lesson" by only retrieving your mail from the mailbox and leaving theirs to rot (or, in the case of bills, extend past the payment deadlines). (Not...that...I...uh...have done any of this...?)

In my your defense, though, there are, perhaps, rational reasons for all of this supposedly bizarre behavior. Maybe you don't like losing track of your clothes. Maybe you don't like the idea of dirt accumulating on your desk. Or MAYBE you think that your ROOMMATES need to be real people and take responsibility for SOME THINGSAROUNDTHEHOUSE! Jesus!

That all makes sense to me. But in this era of internets-fueled obsessions, there is now one definitive way to tell that you need help: You allow the whims of a high-school student who you will never meet and who lives thousands of miles away from you to join the congress of factors that determine your mood. And to join with an overriding vote, no less.

So let's be honest--who else, here, is crazy? My hand is raised, because this is what I wrote on Brian's site today when Carlos Brown announced that he will be putting on the maize and blue next year:

Why was I so nuts? Well, as I strongly hinted at above, I am certifiably insane. But also, Brown is one of the most improbable Michigan recruits I can remember--a 4.4-running, six-foot, number-three-player-in-the-state speed back from Georgia. Michigan never gets elite-level southern players. Especially not when they announce a week ahead of their decisions that UM has been eliminated from consideration and that the finalists are home-state, always-winning-ten-games Georgia and warm-weather, run-by-modern-day-football-god South Carolina. It just doesn't happen.

But that's why they play...the recruiting games. Sometimes upsets happen. I am very critical of Lloyd Carr and his coaching staff, but today (and only today) I must offer unmitigated praise. This was a fine recruiting job, and recruiting is a part of coaching.

Welcome, Carlos. We'll appreciate your reputed character and speed on the outside for the next four years. And I think you'll like Ann Arbor. It's great to be a Michigan Wolverine.