But by a wider margin.

It looks like Ivan is headed into the Gulf. It may still affect Florida, but the most probably target is the Panhandle, and both weather.com and accuwearther.com have taken southeastern Florida out of the target zone. That’s good, because we didn’t need another one, particularly so soon, but it may be hard on people in the panhandle, or the Gulf Coast in general. Send them your best wishes, and donations.

I know, you think that’s my one-word description of those idiots continuing to defend the memos.

It is, but the purpose of this post was to describe the play of the Wolverine offense against Notre Dame throught the third quarter.

The play calling is atrocious, and when it’s good, the execution sucks. They only seem to have two pass plays–a low-percentage long ball down the field, or a short play almost deliberately contrived to avoid being caught beyond the first-down marker. The Irish O-line is making Michigan’s look like schoolgirls. Unable to score a touchdown, they may still win this, but they sure don’t deserve to. And if they do, it will be the defense and special teams (at least the field-goal kicking unit, and ignoring the guy who tripped Breaston for the fumble) who will be responsible, not the offense.

[Update]

Talk about dumb play calling. Why didn’t Notre Dame go for two, after that gift of an interception? Now Michigan can (at least in theory) win it with another field goal (the only offense they’re capable of today).

[Update]

A draw play on third and nineteen? A draw play on third and nineteen?!!!!!

Sure, why not.

They deserved that blocked punt. Why not give them the gift of another TD? I mean, it’s not like they had any plans to score any more this game anyway.

[Update]

Clearly, the offense needs a lot of work. They are not going to win this game. The only chance at this point is a returned interception.

It’s nice to excuse them because they lost Underwood early, but if your offense becomes totally ineffective because you lose your best runner, you don’t have much of an offense. Losing Underwood would explain a couple touchdowns in the margin, but not the inability to get into the end zone completely. At least not for a team with the bench depth that Michigan should.

[Update

OK, so they’ve scored again, off another turnover. Why not?

You can’t blame the defense for this (you can rarely blame the defense for a Michigan loss). They’re worn out. They’ve been on the field for far too much of the time, because the offense is…what was the word again? Oh, yeah, up in the post title.

[Update]

OK, as usual, they tease, getting a TD two and a half minutes before the end of the game. Of course, just to tie, they have to get two points after, and repeat the feat…

[Update]

OK, they get the two points, but miss the on-side kick. Now, of course, I have to watch to see if the defense can make a last stand.

[Wrapup]

As I said, the offense lost this game. The Dee did as well as possible under the circumstances, but the O came alive a few minutes too late.

This isn’t the end of the season, but it’s probably the end of any hopes of a (mythical) national championship for the Woverines this year (unless they go the rest of the season undefeated, and Notre Dame ends up number one at the end of the season).

Carr has to take his O coach to the woodshed, and perhaps even considering replacing him. As I said in the post title, this was a pathetic performance on the part of the Michigan offense.

Of which I’m reminded amidst all the discussion about the forged documents–people who don’t know the difference between a typeface and a font, including journalists, who should know better. Microsoft and the computer industry have blurred the distinction that was once very clear to the printing community.

Times Roman is a typeface, people.

Times Roman twelve-point italic is a font.

The long delay between posts had nothing to do with conditions; it was the normal one that occurs almost every night as I sleep. We’ve stokd up on canned goods, water, batteries, fuel, and other necessities. Last night was the time to stok up on slumber, because we may not get another chance at it until late Sunday. Fortunately, the storm didn’t disturb us, though I heard a few gale blasts about 7 AM.

It’s relatively quiet right now. Trees are blowing, but not hard, and it’s not raining much. Based on the forecasts, I don’t expect that to last long. Fortunately for us (and unfortunately for many others), it continues to head further north. If it makes landfall near the current prediction (up near Melbourne or Fort Pierce), we’ll get off pretty easy in Boca, all things considered, even if it restrengthens this afternoon and evening. Most of the storm surge (our biggest fear) will occur to the north of the storm, and most of the winds we get will be from the north and west.

I don’t know how much longer I’ll be blogging, but at this point, if I quit, it will be because I no longer can (most likely due to power out–the battery’s shot in my laptop), not because I’m voluntarily unconscious.

[Update a couple minutes later]

Whoops. Wrote too soon. The wind is picking up now. And there are a couple crazy people out driving down the street.

More in the thick of things, in Melbourne. She’s still on the air as of a few minutes ago. Wish her (and everyone here) as much luck as you’ve apportioned my way.

There’s a light drizzle outside now. No wind worthy of the name, just a gentle breeze.

Damn you, plywood manufacturers! Damn you to hell!!

[Update after a little reflection]

Well, to be philosophical about it, it’s kind of like washing your car to make it rain, or carrying an umbrella to prevent same. If the storm doesn’t hit us, we’ve done a great service to southern Palm Beach and northern Broward counties by preparing our house for a hurricane and spending the money to move out of it.

But perhaps I speak too soon. The demon, at whatever strength or intention, continues to lurk off shore.

Anyway, for now, for those grateful, the tip jar is to the left.

It’s a beautiful balmy night in Boca Raton. No one would ever suspect that there’s a killer storm lurking just a couple hundred miles off shore. In fact, I’m not sure that even I believe it.

I’m starting to think that this is an elaborate joint conspiracy by the Plywood Manufacturers of America, and the Association of Concrete Fasteners. They knew, after years of “the boy who cried wolf syndrome,” that after Charley’s abrupt right turn, after evacuating Tampa, and sending everyone to Orlando, after which they were hit there instead, that people will disbelieve any track projection, and that they could get everyone on the Sunshine State to purchase window-protection accoutrements by simply pretending that there was a storm out there.

To paraphrase Homer Simpson, here I am, sitting in a motel with my house boarded up, like a sucker.

It’s a beautiful balmy night in Boca Raton. No one would ever suspect that there’s a killer storm lurking just a couple hundred miles off shore. In fact, I’m not sure that even I believe it.

I’m starting to think that this is an elaborate joint conspiracy by the Plywood Manufacturers of America, and the Association of Concrete Fasteners. They knew, after years of “the boy who cried wolf syndrome,” that after Charley’s abrupt right turn, after evacuating Tampa, and sending everyone to Orlando, after which they were hit there instead, that people will disbelieve any track projection, and that they could get everyone on the Sunshine State to purchase window-protection accoutrements by simply pretending that there was a storm out there.

To paraphrase Homer Simpson, here I am, sitting in a motel with my house boarded up, like a sucker.

It’s a beautiful balmy night in Boca Raton. No one would ever suspect that there’s a killer storm lurking just a couple hundred miles off shore. In fact, I’m not sure that even I believe it.

I’m starting to think that this is an elaborate joint conspiracy by the Plywood Manufacturers of America, and the Association of Concrete Fasteners. They knew, after years of “the boy who cried wolf syndrome,” that after Charley’s abrupt right turn, after evacuating Tampa, and sending everyone to Orlando, after which they were hit there instead, that people will disbelieve any track projection, and that they could get everyone on the Sunshine State to purchase window-protection accoutrements by simply pretending that there was a storm out there.

To paraphrase Homer Simpson, here I am, sitting in a motel with my house boarded up, like a sucker.

But who knows for how long? It turns out that the Residence Inn that we’re staying at has broadband, but I didn’t find out about it until a couple hours ago. Then I discovered that I hadn’t packed any ethernet cables with my laptop…

So after a trip back to the house between feeder bands (with an additional delay to cover up one door that we missed earlier), I’m on the air, until the power or bandwidth give out, whichever comes first.

As anyone who’s been following the storm knows, the damned thing slowed down to nine MPH today, so landfall is coming later than anticipated. We haven’t seen much yet, except a couple feeders, with (fortunately) no tornadoes. It still looks like it’s heading somewhat north of us, and the Cape is still in danger.

We’re still in the target area, at the extreme southern end, as far as being hit by the eye. If it hits north of us, it will be a blessing (for us) because most of the heavy winds will be off-shore, and there won’t be as heavy a surge (flooding of the house was the biggest concern, and one that we could do nothing about, other than wrapping it in whatever they put Han Solo in). But the door that we belatedly shored up was on the west side of the house, so we decided to buttress it a little more.

I’m anticipating an interesting twenty-four hours, with (at a minimum) steady tropical-force winds hitting sometime before morning, increasing to hurricane force throughout tomorrow, with eyefall on the land sometime during the day or evening. Earlier is bad, because that means it will hit farther south (us). Later is better, even though it prolongs the agony of the decibels and groaning structure.

We’re in a comfortable hotel room, built fifteen years ago, but if the storm hits here dead on, it will be the biggest one it’s ever seen, even though the intensity has dropped off to a Cat 3 (it may increase once it’s done scouring the Bahamas, in anticipation of slamming the Treasure Coast–lucky us). We’re enjoying a meal (possibly our last nice one for a while) of grilled salmon and Caesar salad and champagne (the place has a kitchen).

We’re hoping that the hotel will hold out all right, but the worst case is that we all huddle in an interior bath (four of us, with no windows) for the few worst hours, screaming above the winds howling through the broken windows. Obviously, I hope (but don’t pray–I still don’t know to whom to do that) that it doesn’t come to that.

Oh, and to commenter “John” in the previous thread? I rarely use language like this in my blog, but fuck you. With sandpaper.