We used to have a substitute teacher in high school whose name was Mr. Luhrs. Mr. Luhrs would write "sub:Luhrs" on the board, take his seat, and then calmly explain to the class that they were to sit in their chair, be quiet, and work on their assignments in the class through the class period. He also mentioned that he was unafraid of writing discipline reports if someone felt this was asking too much. Mr. subLuhrs, as we all called him, would then reach down to his hearing aid, turn it off, and hide snoozing behind a newspaper for the rest of the period. Once the newspaper rose in front of his face, the following things happened:
1. A dice game broke out in the back, usually overseen by some black guy named 'Trell.
2. Two rednecks immediately began brawling in the corner.
3. Five students left the school completely, never to be seen again.
4. Someone would make out with the big-haired, acid wash-wearing girl we all referred to as "Roll-A-Ho," whose real name we've long since forgotten.
No, Orson did not attend Nuke 'Em High.
With the usual authority gone, order evaporated at the first opportunity. This might be what's happening at Wisconsin, where the old silverback Alvarez's retirement has brought the more "dynamic" types out of the woodwork to challenge the new order of Bret Bielema. First Booker Stanley got the boot; now fullback P.J. Hill brandishes a bat in a dispute in a dorm. Bielema should suspend him for overkill, since the fullback on a team should be able to take anyone on the team on in a fight, much less a paperweight undergrad down the hall in the dorm.
Pending the details, Wisconsin makes a strong appearance in the race for the Fulmer Cup.