clock menu more-arrow no yes mobile

Filed under:


New, 96 comments

A remembrance of games that really should be removed and forgotten completely.

We remember watching this game. It came on late thanks to a weather delay, some horrendous hail-spitting crapnado blowing down off the plains and through Lawrence. The cameras panned up to the rim of the stadium, and all you saw were empty seats, flags blowing sideways like they were propped up with wires, and miserable, deranged, and utterly brave Kansas faithful in the expanse of bare rain-soaked concrete.

It looked like the nuclear winter league. Terry Allen was coaching at Kansas, and Tom Osborne's eventual split-champion '97 Huskers stood on the opposite sideline, so it was in fact the nuclear winter league. Nebraska was the team of bone-devouring mutants. Kansas played the part of the Sad Boy, and circus peanut similes (way NSFW audio) were just as relevant to them then as they were last year under Turner Gill.


There's a lot here, but the "48 yards total offense on 48 offensive plays" is the eye-popper, particularly in contrast to the 415 yards on SIXTY-FIVE ATTEMPTS next to it in the Nebraska rushing column alone.

We mention this game because we were thinking about "games where one team clearly wanted to be doing anything else other than playing football, up to and including contracting intestine-warping food poisoning in the third quarter." The first team that came to mind was this '97 Kansas team against Nebraska, playing in a bombed-out stadium against a Nebraska team determined to run the clock out and get the hell out of whatever was preparing to destroy Lawrence from the skies.

(To be fair and accurate, Kansas also wanted to get out of there--or die, or at least for the clock to run out so they could lay down in their room and have the kind of cry that makes you snort and make embarrassing choking noises.)

No one watching this wretched facehammering of a game would have blamed them. If you are a Kansas fan who sat through this--all of this--you deserve some kind of combination award/faceslap for even making it to the third quarter. And if you're the sick bastard who actually posted this to Youtube, may Bob Devaney have mercy on your soul.