Debunking the College Football Playoff Rankings

If there’s one topic that could compel me to resurrect my blog after a two-year hiatus, it’s college football!

So let’s get straight to it. I'd like to address the main concerns that people have had with the final playoff rankings.

TCU shouldn’t have fallen from No. 3 to No. 6

The biggest issue that most everyone has is with how TCU, despite crushing Iowa State in the final weekend of play, fell from third place to sixth. Didn’t the Horned Frogs’ dominance against a Big 12 bottom-feeder make them a lock for the playoff?

Maybe in the BCS, but not in the CFP system, which evaluates teams on more factors than just plain old wins and losses. It's clear that this new, dynamic method of analysis will take a few seasons to sink in for a lot of people. Remember: The CFP rankings don't function like traditional rankings that we've all grown accustomed to—simply winning doesn't necessarily hold your position from week to week. It's a fluid situation.

But still, how did TCU drop three spots after winning by such a big margin?

As committee chairman Jeff Long explained, it wasn't about what TCU did or didn't do—it was more about Ohio State (more on that below).

Although everyone is hung up on TCU falling from 3 to 6, it's not that hard to make sense of. But it requires us to look at how TCU got to be No. 3 in the first place. All we need to do is flash back to the previous week (Week 14; Week 15 in the CFP rankings). The committee had the teams ranked in the order shown below, and I've added each game result from that week:

1. Alabama: Got revenge on in-state enemy and No. 15 Auburn, 55-44, to retain the No. 1 spot.
2. Oregon: Won the Civil War against Oregon State, 47-19, to retain the No. 2 spot.
3. Florida State: Looked like themselves in nearly losing another game to a lesser team, hanging on against 6-5 Florida, 24-19. Jameis Winston had one of his worst performances, throwing a game-high four interceptions. As a result, the Seminoles dropped a spot to No. 4.
4. Mississippi State: Lost 31-17 to archrival Ole Miss, dropping them to No. 10 and 10-2 on the season.
5. TCU: In a game in which Texas had become the trendy upset pick, TCU ran away with a decisive 48-10 road victory against the Longhorns on Thanksgiving night.
6. Ohio State: Ohio State’s 42-28 win over archnemesis Michigan was enough to bump them up one spot to No. 5, but the Buckeyes were only winning by a touchdown heading into the final frame (28-21). A typically inept Wolverines offense ended up finishing the game with 376 yards and their second-highest point total against Power Five competition this season.
7. Baylor: Somehow, people forgot that Baylor gave up over 700 yards this week to Texas Tech freshman QB Patrick Mahomes in a 48-46 loss. Bears star quarterback Bryce Petty left the game in the third quarter with a concussion when his team was up 35-17, but note that Petty does not play defense for Baylor. Despite the near-defeat as a 25-point favorite, Baylor moved up from No. 7 to No. 6 once Mississippi State fell to No. 10.

So, to recap how TCU got to No. 3 in the first place: (1) Florida State looked bad in victory, (2) Mississippi State lost their second game of the season, (3) Baylor almost lost as a heavy favorite, and (4) TCU handled Texas. It all adds up when you look at it beyond a surface level.

But the question remains: How does TCU fall from 3 to 6 in the final rankings? Let's take a look:

• First, the committee moved Florida State from 4 to 3 after surviving a good Georgia Tech team in the ACC Championship Game and finishing their season undefeated. Even though the Seminoles may have been most deserving of the fourth spot, the committee reserved a spot for them at No. 3 because they knew that they couldn't leave out an undefeated team. So that drops TCU to 4.
• Then, with Baylor beating No. 9 Kansas State 38-27, the Bears closed with a strong win in the final weekend to finish with an identical 11-1 record as TCU, where their 61-58 head-to-head win over the Horned Frogs could no longer be ignored. At this point, Baylor is now 4 and TCU is 5.
• And then you have what Ohio State did. Being a small underdog to Wisconsin in the B1G Championship Game, the Buckeyes looked nothing of the part and shocked the college football world by manhandling No. 13 Wisconsin to the tune of 59-0—with a third-string quarterback making his first career start, no less. Ohio State’s dominance in a conference championship game had to be weighed accordingly, and it didn’t hurt that putting the Buckeyes at fourth also resolved the Baylor/TCU conundrum as justifiably as possible.

So there you have it. TCU’s fall from 3 to 6 all adds up, especially if you take chairman Jeff Long at his word when he said that the committee felt that all three teams were separated by a “razor-thin” margin: “I know it looks like a long drop from three to six, but they were really 3A, 3B, 3C and 3D," he said. "I mean, they were that close.”

He's right. But people getting so superficially hung up on the 3-to-6 drop has led them to declare that the prior weekly rankings were a showbiz sham and the final rankings are the only ones that mattered. The latter is a true statement in a pure sense of finality with playoff pairings, but as I’ve shown above, not in the case of TCU or with learning how the committee was dynamically evaluating teams in their first year. Not when you really look at it.

Baylor suffered because of their nonconference schedule

Let’s be clear: Baylor’s nonconference schedule (SMU, Northwestern State, and Buffalo) certainly didn’t do them any favors, but I don’t believe it hurt them as much as analysts would have you believe. Because when compared to TCU’s nonconference schedule (Samford, Minnesota, and SMU), the only real difference is Minnesota, which is a good (but not great) out-of-conference win.

My beef is that when critics have compared TCU and Baylor’s resumés, they fail to discern that Baylor would probably have beaten Minnesota by a similar score as TCU (30-7 in Fort Worth), so the whole Minnesota factor should have been relatively moot. Baylor’s real issues stemmed from its league, which did not declare them outright Big 12 champions or have a conference championship game that would have allowed for that possibility.

So all that's to say: Let’s forget about the Golden Gophers.

Now, when comparing Baylor to the other playoff contenders, there’s no doubt that having a key nonconference victory over, say, UCLA or Michigan State, would have helped their case in claiming the fourth spot, especially as TCU remained the eye-test favorite in the weeks following their close road loss to the Bears.

Ohio State was the most deserving team for the fourth spot

Alabama vs. Ohio State is a beautiful matchup on paper. But the Sugar Bowl’s biggest storyline being Urban Meyer vs. Nick Saban is indicative of why the Buckeyes may not be the best choice for No. 4: Their third-string QB is making his second career start against Alabama’s defense. That's the matchup that doesn’t sound so good on paper. Sophomore quarterback Cardale Jones may have gone 12/17 with 3 TDs against a sound Wisconsin defense, but it's one that hadn’t seen the caliber of athletes as Ohio State’s all year. Linesmakers agree with my sentiment, as the Buckeyes currently stand as 9-point underdogs, one of the biggest spreads among all bowl games.

However, that’s not to say that Jones and the Buckeyes don’t have a chance. Alabama gave up long touchdown passes to Auburn and Missouri in their last two games, so there is hope for Ohio State. But to think that Jones—with his one-game body of work—has better odds of leading Ohio State to victory over Baylor’s Bryce Petty or TCU’s Trevone Boykin is a hard sell for me, but apparently not with the committee. Hence, the conspiracy theory that the committee chose the bigger name brand among the three.

To add more credence that Ohio State isn't as deserving of the fourth spot as Baylor or TCU, sports-betting analyst Danny Sheridan told ESPNU's College Football Daily on December 12th that both Baylor and TCU would be favored over Ohio State by 4–7 points on a neutral field.

(And so much for the season-long perception that the Big Ten was the nation's most inferior Power Five conference.)

Between Ohio State, Baylor, and TCU, Ohio State had the worst loss

This is true—but only superficially. In the final week of the season, it amazed me to still hear some critics argue that Ohio State should be excluded from the playoff based on their 35-21 home loss in Week 2 to an eventual 6-6 Virginia Tech team, without qualifying it with the obvious—it was freshman quarterback JT Barrett’s second college football game ever, and only after learning he’d be taking over for Braxton Miller about three weeks prior. In the weeks that followed, Barrett made a huge turnaround, leading the Scarlet & Gray to a big road upset of Michigan State, setting multiple school records, and putting his name up for Heisman Trophy contention before a season-ending ankle injury against Michigan.

So by the end of the season, it should’ve been clear to everyone that Week 14 JT Barrett would have handled the Hokies with ease had he existed in Week 2. Remember, the CFP doesn't just evaluate how a team played early in the season, but more importantly how they're playing at the end of it as a finished—or at least current—product.

As for TCU, their lone loss was on a last-second field goal at Baylor, made possible by two questionable pass interference calls on the previous two drives. But as critics scratched their heads about why TCU was ranked higher than Baylor for all but the last week, one of the obvious factors that they kept overlooking was who Baylor lost to: West Virginia, 41-27, the week after the miraculous comeback against TCU.

Sure, the Bears probably had little left in the tank after that emotional victory, but the point here is that TCU beat the Mountaineers in Morgantown in Week 10, 31-30, on a last-second field goal. I never understood why it took people so long to realize that Baylor had the worse loss of the two, especially as West Virginia tumbled down the stretch to finish at 7-5.

But even though TCU seemed like they were the better team at the end of the season, the committee absolved themselves from any further controversy by finally moving Baylor one spot ahead of TCU in the final rankings (for what it's worth).

Controversy was inevitable, but the path the committee took was the least controversial possible.

'The Walking Dead' So Far: Ghosts, Warriors, and Woodbury Weirdness

The biggest criticism of The Walking Dead's second season is that little happens in the first six episodes. But with all the action and character dynamics in play throughout the first half-dozen episodes of Season 3, no one will be able to fault the show for treading narrative water this time. Because after two seasons of mostly setup, it's clear that Season 3 is all about payoffs.

So much has happened since the last time I wrote. This season's fourth episode, "Killer Within," was maybe the most devastating to date. Prisoner Andrew, who we all assumed was as good as dead when Rick trapped him in a courtyard with a handful of walkers (and who we now know was the one surveilling the prison from the woods), ended up escaping. Then, in giving new meaning to the expression "paybacks are hell," he lured more walkers into the prison and waited for the shit to hit the fan. When it did, T-Dog unexpectedly and disappointingly bit the dust (so much for having a bigger role this season), Carol was presumed dead, and Lori didn't survive childbirth while hiding from a horde inside the prison.

How's that for karma?

"Man, can't we just have one good day?" asked Glenn before all hell broke loose. On The Walking Dead, the answer is no. But the bigger message the show is reminding us of early on? No one's safe, no matter where they are.

'The Walking Dead' So Far: From Dog Food to Canned Cans

If you were wondering what the survivors in The Walking Dead have been up to since we last saw them sitting anxiously around a campfire seven months ago, the wordless five-minute opening scene in "Seed," the Season 3 premiere, says it all. No longer inexperienced and insulated from danger, the survivors have become a well-oiled army of zombie killers and marksmen who efficiently scavenge and quietly secure premises in a matter of minutes. They've become good at this, but their nomadic lifestyle has them looking more haggard and hungrier than ever as they continue looking for a more permanent safe haven. Worse, time's running out to find a proper place where Lori can give birth to Rick (or Shane's) baby.

Enter the prison, whose relative proximity as it appeared in the closing shot of Season 2 made it seem like an imminent discovery, but was somehow overlooked all winter when the survivors were going in circles trying to find a way out of the immediate area.

Nothing But Heart

"Five years is something that you have to pay attention to... A five-year contract—that's not something that comes along every day."

2010 was a year that saw some remarkable television shows say goodbye. I've already written about the epic swan song of Lost and the overdue conclusion of 24, but I haven't gotten around to blogging about NBC's beloved high school football drama, Friday Night Lights. Although most fans didn't watch the show's fifth and final season until it aired on NBC in 2011, the series wrapped in 2010, with Season 5 airing exclusively on DirecTV that Fall. So, technically speaking, three of my favorite shows—three that are considered the decade's best—saw themselves to the door in 2010.

I didn't start watching Friday Night Lights until the Spring of 2008 when the show was in its second season. A female co-worker had recommended it and lent me the Season 1 DVDs. I have to admit that I hadn't paid much attention to the series up to that point. Even though I liked the 2004 film (then an adaptation of the 1990 book by H.G. Bissinger), I wondered if a more drawn-out TV adaptation was really necessary, and if it could really be better than the movie.

That doubt of mine was quickly quelled after watching a few episodes on DVD. It didn't take long before I preferred the TV series to its silver-screen counterpart, even though it's never fair to compare apples to oranges. If anything, the difference between the two mediums speaks more about the inherent advantage television shows have in getting far more time to develop stories and characters. As it turns out, this was the primary reason why Peter Berg, who directed the film version of Friday Night Lights, wanted to delve deeper into the world with the TV edition, since he had to leave so much out of the book in making the movie.

Swing Your Sword

During his time at Texas Tech, I really grew to love Mike Leach and his "Air Raid" offense. Having grown accustomed to Ohio State eking out cardiac-arresting wins with its conservative Tresselball offense, Texas Tech's aggressive spread attack was quite the antithesis. And as college football offenses evolved in more creative, wide-open ways in the mid-2000s, I only grew to appreciate it more.

I've always been envious that Ohio State hasn't had an offensively minded coach like Leach who could strategically create mismatches and make teams pay. Too many times throughout Tressel's tenure, OSU either lost close, winnable games, or won games that shouldn't have been so tight by allowing lesser teams to hang around. Either way, the conservative approach has handicapped Ohio State for years, with the players having to rely on their athletic ability to compensate for the poor position the coaches put them in. With an offensive philosophy like Leach's, there would have been higher scores, more wins, and much fewer palpitations.

Leach has had success everywhere he's coached. The before-and-after statistics at Iowa Wesleyan, Valdosta State, Kentucky, Oklahoma, and Texas Tech are dramatic. He's developed ordinary players into stars, whether it's once walk-on Wes Welker or quarterbacks Josh Heupel and Tim Couch, both Heisman Trophy finalists. And even though his oddly named quarterbacks at Texas Tech have earned reputations as system QBs, you can't ignore their success, throwing anywhere from 3,000 to over 6,000 yards a season. If those are system QBs, those are QBs I want in my system.

Leach's recently published biography, Swing Your Sword: Leading the Charge in Football and Life, gives great insight into his coaching philosophies. I've never played organized football, but if I coached it, the armchair quarterback in me would adopt many of them. What follows are the excerpts from Leach's book that I identified with the most.

The Emerald Isle

It's been over four months since I got married, so I figure it's about time I write something about the honeymoon.

We chose Ireland because of our Irish roots, and at least in my mind, because it wasn't where everyone else goes on their honeymoon. On advice from an NYC friend who has Irish citizenship, the plan was to fly in to Dublin and drive a rental car along the west coast, then down south, and eventually back to Dublin.

That was the plan, anyway. Let's just say that our honeymoon didn't get off to the best start. Because our flight from Green Bay to Chicago was delayed, we ended up missing our connecting flights, the last of which was to Dublin. So, option 1 was to rough it overnight in the Toronto airport, take an evening flight to Dublin the next day, and lose a day in Ireland. Option 2 involved taking a red eye into London that night and connecting to Belfast earlier the next day, which would be our new final destination. After being assured that Belfast, being in Northern Ireland, was indeed safe these days, we chose the second option because it would keep us on schedule, even though it meant a longer drive to our first hotel in Galway.

Warm Feet

Photo by Ardent Photography.

I have a confession to make: For most of my life, I was afraid to get married.

Actually, it wasn't really marriage that scared me—it was the wedding itself. For years I'd built up the possibility of my own wedding as the biggest event in my life. There were all kinds of things to worry about—the hundreds of people watching me; pressure to not screw up or say the wrong thing; dancing.

My fear was rooted in being the center of attention, a place I've always shied away from. And if there was ever a time when all eyes would be on me, this was it. But being single for the better part of my life allowed me to put these worries on the back burner. We'd just cross that bridge when we got there.

That's why it's amazing for me to sit here and say that not only have I crossed that bridge, but I had a great time doing it. My wedding was a blast, and in the months leading up to it, I expected it to be.

So what changed?

The One

Well, somehow I got married last month.

I say that not because I didn't know it was coming for a year prior—indeed, it was hardly a shotgun wedding or an elopement in Vegas. I say it simply because after 31½ years of being single, it's strange to think that it actually happened.

During my college days in Oxford, Ohio, I spent more Saturday nights in my dorm room than I care to recall. I remember being confused as I walked around campus seeing how many guys had girlfriends. It seemed so easy for them, but impossible for me. It was harder because I wasn't as social back then, but it was still frustrating because I knew I had a lot to offer a girl. It was sort of like a job search that wasn't going well—I was more than qualified, but no woman was hiring.

Fast-forward a few years later to my post-college life in Nashville. I was still girlfriend-less in life, and at this point it was starting to feel like a curse. I often wondered if something was wrong with me. Suffice it to say that I had a girlfriend complex. But then I finally learned why it was so hard for someone like me: my personality type.

According to the Myers-Briggs personality test, most INFPs (Introverted-Intuitive-Feeling-Perceiving) are very selective when it comes to choosing their partners, and tend to only pursue long-lasting relationships. The test revealed many more truths about all facets of my life that were eerily right on the money, but that was the gist of it as far as relationships go. For anyone who's never taken the assessment, it honestly feels like someone's been spying on you as you read about your type because the test seems to know everything about what makes you tick. For anyone looking to gain knowledge and self-awareness far beyond relationships, this test is essential because it can be life-changing. It was for me.

Closer to the Sky

NY → NJ → PA → OH → IN → IL → MO → KS → CO



"You're so far around the bend... There is no leaving New York."

Six weeks ago, I embarked on an epic trek and relocation to Denver. But when it began, New York City wasn't ready to let me go.

I had a 10-hour drive ahead of me on Friday, May 13th, so an early departure was necessary. Unfortunately, the entire morning was eaten up by getting the rental car, picking up my hockey equipment, and retrieving some of Erin's belongings in Brooklyn. I figured it wouldn't take anymore than two hours.

It took four. When it comes to moving, underestimation seems to be my Achilles' heel.

I finally experienced the hell that is driving in New York City. Suffice it to say that both Manhattan and Brooklyn were complete and utter parking lots, with one bottleneck, traffic jam, and construction zone after another. Newfound respect for cabbies, I have.

There was a lot of cursing, frustration, and aggressive driving. There was me going down a forbidden street that came to a dead end, and having to turn around and face the wrath of the construction worker I disobeyed (as well as my girlfriend's).

One thing there wasn't a lot of: turn signals.

But there was something else. Something that will stick in my memory just as much.

There was a New York that I'd never seen before.

As I maneuvered my way through the concrete grid on that cool May morning, there were moments, like when I was making my way around Columbus Circle, or driving near the Hudson in lower Manhattan, where the city was bright and fresh. It was almost as if a veil had been lifted, and all notions of cramped, dirty city living were replaced with a sheen of cool and clean. I chalked it up to New York's last-ditch ploy in preventing me from leaving.

But leave I did—but not before running the hypertension-inducing gauntlet that is Midtown at lunch hour. All I can say is, TGINHTDINYCEA (Thank God I'll Never Have To Drive In New York City Ever Again.)

What follows is my travelogue for the journey.

Day 1: New York to Dayton (10 hours)

Below is a series of Twitter-like thoughts that I had along the rest of the day, once I'd escaped the clutches of the Concrete Jungle.

• Best Worst City Name: Krumsville, PA
• Forgotten Restaurant of the '90s (and for Good Reason): TIE – Long John Silver's/Perkins.
• Note to future self: XM22 - Pearl Jam Radio.
• Wait—free laundry and tennis from now on??
• Garbage disposals!
• Billy Squier: underrated driving music
• A joke: What's the capital of Pennsylvania? Answer: Harrisburg.
• 3:25 p.m.: I become an uncle for the first time.
• If Jack Bauer can do it, so can I.
• What the sign should say: "GAS GOUGING – 1 MILE"
• Just before Dunningsville, PA, I do a double-take as I see one horse mounting another in the field to my left. A close runner-up for highlight of the day, next to finally making it home hours later.
• An abandoned rest stop: The spooky scene that should open Season 2 of The Walking Dead.
• Yup, the Spin Doctors still get played.
• Two words: cruise control.
• Not afraid to admit that Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats" is a great piece of songwriting.
• Tragedy strikes as yet another country song is ruined by a heavy male drawl.

I pulled into the ol' driveway just before 11 p.m. My awesome parents were hospitable and accommodating enough to not only cook my requested steak dinner, but to actually wait to sit down and eat with me hours after it was prepared. I blame NYC again for my tardiness.

Day 2: Dayton to Kansas City (10 hours)

No road trip can begin without Bill's Donuts.

Day 2 almost gets off to a bad start. There was a slight scare with me being charged for another day with the rental car despite the fact that we were returning it within the hour. But seeing how far I'd come, the Budget guy was cool enough to waive the late fee.

With more rest and a copilot in my brother Ben, I know the sailing is going to be a lot smoother than Day 1. We think it's a good sign when Bob Seger's "Turn The Page" greets us as I turn the ignition. "Well here I go—ON THE ROAD AGAIN..." Sadly, my brother Ryan's "Coloroado" mix CD doesn't play for some reason, even though it played fine in the rental car. An early casualty.

It's after 11 in the morning, and it's not surprising that we're shoving off later than originally planned. So instead of getting on the road and making up for lost time, we go straight to Bill's Donuts.

Not long into our drive, we place bets on Ben's bathroom tally for the trip. Ben has a woman's bladder, so I predict that he'll have to go nine times during transit. Ben chooses seven. In the end, Ben goes exactly five times. So I guess we both lose. (And yes, I realize it's a flawed game to begin with.) Outside of Bill's, the log indicates that Ben went in Bumfuck, Illinois; Boondock, Missouri; El Buttfuckerosa, Kansas; and Pike Shit, Kansas—if that paints any picture of civilization along I-70.

In eastern Indiana, we for the first time see the actual sign for Tom Raper RVs, "where fun begins." If you lived in the tri-state area, you'd understand the significance of the occasion. All our lives we've seen Tom Raper's commercials and been puzzled how a man with that name has stayed in business for decades. Laughs abound.


I think I know why he likes RVs.

Somewhere in Illinois, I have Ben hand me the turkey sandwich he made for me the night before. Only, this is no ordinary turkey sandwich. As a person notorious for mixing my food, this new creation of mine may take the cake: a turkey sandwich topped with a generous layer of BROCCOLI SOUFFLÉ. Getting to eat it only once the night before wasn't nearly enough.

The verdict? Best turkey sandwich I ever had. And I think it's safe to say it's never been attempted before.

Ben and I end up splitting driving duty in half, and between good music and conversation about life's many mysteries, we're in Kansas City before we know it. I still pride myself on lowballing Priceline for a $40 room at Holiday Inn. The first time, and certainly not the last.


Ben appearing to take a leak at our cheap hotel in Kansas City.

Thanks to what proved to be a great recommendation from a Denver friend who'd done the drive before, that night we feast like kings at Jack Stack, probably the best barbecue I've ever had. I'm also reintroduced to Fat Tire beer, an instant favorite.


Best barbecue ever. Big props to John Campbell for his invaluable tip.

Day 3: Kansas City to Denver (10 hours)

The day begins with the realization that we left our turkey sandwiches in the car for the night (as if sitting unrefrigerated for the entire previous day wasn't unsanitary enough). Desperate for justification not to toss the sandwiches (remember, mine was a special one), my thoughts quickly turn to the temperature, which is cold and was all night. But wait! I tell Ben. "It was cold all night—and the air—and the temperature—it was like a fridge!" Yeah, yeah! exclaims Ben, immediately seeing where I'm going with this.

The real test comes a few hours later when my stomach starts growling. Trying to ignore the universal fact that unrefrigerated mayonnaise goes bad, I go to work on the turkey soufflé. Somehow, it's just as good as it was 24 hours earlier. I thank the iron stomach for that one.

Ben opts to eat the day-old donuts before his sandwich. I already had some for breakfast. This shouldn't come to any surprise to Centervillians, but day-old Bill's Donuts still tops Dunkin' Donuts or Krispy Kreme any day of the week. Hell, maybe even two-day-old's. No contest.

As many warned me, Kansas is the worst part of the trip; a type of terrestrial cockblock obstructing your path to Colorado. It just goes on forever. But the Smoky Hilly Wind Farm was a sight to behold.


Just two of hundreds on the farm.

We're in west Kansas, and it's time to stop for gas. Thinking it'll be cheaper in the boondocks, I get off the highway only to find no gas station in sight. Was it wiped out by a tornado? No. Turns out, it's just a few miles down some country roads. We get there to see the price: $4.03⅓.

Opting to get the hell out of Dodge, we get back on the highway and find a less isolated station a few miles down the road. Except this one has been abandoned by personnel. Ben seizes the opportunity and takes piss No. 5 on the back wall of the complex, since the door's locked. I'm also tempted to mark my territory, but I feel like we're being watched.



It seems like it would never happen, but we finally leave Kansas for good and cross the Colorado border. On the brink of a big, symbolic moment that we'd been anticipating from the start of our journey, we envision a few things. A huge "COLORADO WELCOMES YOU" sign. Ensuing honks and cheers. The gleam of a dream in our eyes. Instead, we get this:



So much for that.

A few hours later, with the ultra-cool Tron: Legacy score playing, we ride into Denver. Ben's desperately looking for the mountains to reveal themselves, and eventually he can make them out. I tweet: "Mountains beyond mountains! Journey complete."

As we finish our epic 1,260-mile run on I-70 and head up S.R. 36, we debate where to celebrate the toils of our quest. We end up at Rock Bottom Brewery in Westminster, not far from our final destination. When I step out of the car, I get instant confirmation of feeling at home: an ice arena is just a few hundred yards away.

Closer to the Sky

As I sit here over a month later, the hustle and bustle of the transition to a new life has subsided, and I've been able to catch up with reality. My mind is reconciling the different worlds I've traversed in a short period of time, and I'm getting used to the fact that this is my new home, with NYC now in my rear view.

When I stop and revel at it all, I'm left with one thought:

I did it. Three simple words loaded with celebratory success.

Erin and I have had Denver on our minds for a while now. With our wedding on the heels of our NYC lease that's up on July 1st, we came to realize two things. One: We didn't want to spend another year in New York. And two: Even if we moved to another city we liked, Denver would still be in the back of our minds.

So the mission became clear: Denver or bust. Sure, it was going to make an already busy year filled with wedding planning even more hectic. Our plan was dubious to some, but we knew what we wanted, and doing it sooner rather than later was the lesser of two evils. We could move to our destination city, make a clean break with the lease, and return from our honeymoon to a new, exciting home to begin a new chapter in our lives.

But why Denver?

We were drawn to the landscape and the cool vibe of the Mile High City. We liked the idea of being able to settle down in the western region of the country, territory that was comfortable but personally uncharted. We like the laid-back attitude and the opportunities with the outdoors. We love the microbrews.

In short, Denver felt like home.

This is the third time I've changed my living situation for the better and set myself up for new experiences. And as I look back, I'm proud to say I've lived in Nashville and New York, two of the best cities in the U.S. But sometimes it just takes a few years to figure out where you're supposed to be.

I have no regrets about living in New York. I had unique, unforgettable experiences there that I couldn't have had anywhere else. But after 3½ years, it was just time to move on. In my experience, there's no other personal act that's as incredibly liberating and empowering as a big life change in moving to a different state "just as I'd wanted, and almost as if I'd willed it."

So here I am again in a new place, taking in the sights and asking myself how in the hell I got here. These are the times when I enjoy this surreal, exhilarating phase of newness before it gradually fades.

But for now, I smile every time I gaze into the face of the Front Range.

Many years from now, I hope to still be pinching myself.

"It's easier to leave than to be left behind... Leaving was never my proud... Leaving New York, never easy. I saw the light fading out."


Road Warriors 2011

Wake-up Time

I got published in Rolling Stone for the second time. I know it's so last month, but I wanted to file this for posterity's sake.

My letter was in response to this article. See also: The Big Leagues

Hard To Say He's Sorry

Apologizing for a big mistake is one of the hardest things to do, especially if you're Jim Tressel.

After a few non-apologies for covering up a scandal and then lying about it to the NCAA, the Vest finally owned up to his actions on Thursday, requesting that his two-game suspension be increased to five games for the 2011 season—the same of his suspended players.

"Throughout this entire situation, my players and I have committed ourselves to facing our mistakes and growing from them. We can only successfully do this together," he said in a statement.

Since Tressel was busted on March 8th, this was actually just the second time he admitted wrongdoing without equivocation. The first was two days earlier at Cardington-Lincoln High School when he said "I've made a mistake that I'm very sorry for."

Before that, at the Pro Football Hall of Fame on March 14th, Tressel was in dire need of a dictionary.

"I sincerely apologize for what we've been through. I apologize for the fact I wasn't able to find the ones to partner with to handle our difficult and complex situation. I also apologize because I'm going to have some sanctions."

This doesn't sound bad on the first read. But take another look. Here's what peeved me:

• Tressel's curious choice of words. He didn't apologize for what he did, which was hiding the possibility that five of his players sold OSU memorabilia to a local tattoo artist. Instead, he apologized for "what we've been through." He doesn't express remorse for lying to the NCAA about the situation—just that he's sorry he'll be punished for getting caught.
  
  
• Tressel apologized for not being able to "find the ones to partner with" to deal with the matter, which is interesting considering that the only action he apparently took was keeping the scandal buried. After he received the first e-mail from attorney Christopher Cicero on April 2nd, 2010, he responded with "Thanks. I will get on it ASAP."
  
  But instead, Tressel actually got off it. Two weeks later he responded to Cicero's follow-up e-mail—which included a longer laundry list of probable violations—with "Thanks for your help...keep me posted as to what I need to do if anything."
  
  "Keep me posted"—hardly an active stance, and hardly one Tressel should take after learning about serious allegations that he'd later tell the media were "a tremendous concern to me."

It gets worse.

As part of the school-imposed penalties announced last week, Tressel was publicly reprimanded and required to make a public apology. During a news conference last week in Columbus, Tressel never offered any such apology. So, before he was whisked off following the event, Tressel was asked if this speech served as his public repentance. He looked puzzled.

"I've tried to apologize all along," he said.

This is where a dictionary would serve Tressel well, because how else do you explain his confusion with contrition? It's times like these and after big losses where the man is just out of touch with reality. That or he thinks he can continue to slide by on his hitherto squeaky-clean image and by saying the right things, however untrue, dodgy, or disingenuous.

And that's what troubles me the most—that, during his 10 years at Ohio State, Tressel has seemed to fool everyone on persona alone: his ultra-conservative, Midwestern style; his buttoned-down, businesslike demeanor; his generic, too-perfect book titles; and his post-game lexicon that includes G-rated words like "neat" and "gosh".

Along with owning Michigan, it's this do-no-wrong public face that's given him a politician-like following and made him unimpeachable in the eyes of most Buckeye fans—not to mention the university itself. So it's not shocking that in the immediate wake of this scandal, Tressel's job was never in jeopardy—never mind that his contract merits termination in such a situation.

But it is disturbing, especially when trust somehow endures.

"Wherever we end up, Jim Tressel is our football coach," said Athletic director Gene Smith. "He is our coach, and we trust him implicitly."

Asked if he ever considered firing Tressel, OSU President Gordon Gee gave an emphatic "no," saying, "Are you kidding me? Let me be clear: I just hope the coach doesn't dismiss me."

But the truth is that Tressel's perceived integrity belies the fact that under the same circumstances, he's just just like any other college football coach—or politician—who breaks the rules in order to pursue his best interests.

And with unconditional loyalty bestowed upon him by the Buckeye faithful, it'll take a lot more than one apology from the Senator to lose his seat in the Horseshoe.

Let Down

Just as I was getting ready to dive into Radiohead's newest album, The King Of Limbs, the eight-track, 37-minute EP-LP hybrid started to grow on me. But the main point I wanted to express didn't change. Which is: I really miss the Radiohead of old.

You know, back when they were a rock band.

Take Limbs' opening track, "Bloom." The song starts out nice enough, with a pleasant Eno-like bed of ambient electronics. 15 seconds later, a cacophonic clusterfuck of disparate snare splices and radio-staticky blips completely sabotage the song.

The only good part is that, five minutes later, it ends.

"Feral" is another instant throwaway. Only this time the cut-and-paste drum loop and lo-fi radio static start immediately. What follows is essentially an instrumental with random synth touches and Thom Yorke's slurred murmurs fluctuating in and out amid a wash of reverb.

"Songs like 'Bloom' and 'Feral' are the type of nerve-shredders Brian Eno used to compose in his sleep. Only underneath the random sounds of chaos, Eno also offered a melody, that on its own, could sometimes break your heart." —Sal Nunziato

I'd like to believe that studio gremlins—and not the band itself—ruined one-fourth of the songs on Radiohead's new album, but it's unlikely.

"Morning Mr. Magpie" is the other song I don't care for, and it's not because of poor production. It's because the song, driven almost solely by a scratch-guitar loop on acid, goes nowhere. And on Limbs, this is too often the case.

"I could use a little less aversion to melody. The King Of Limbs is typically (albeit beautifully) long on experimentation and frustratingly short on old-fashioned songs." —Shawn Amos

It took the world's greatest rock(?) band three years to come up with eight new songs, three of which are demo-quality cuts that would be lucky to be called B-sides? Maybe that explains the band's unheralded, oh-by-the-way announcement on February 14th that their new album would be coming out just five days later.

The remainder of Limbs is listenable with more traditional song structures, and outside of the doleful "Codex," mostly lighter temperaments. Overall though, my biggest complaint is that there are no moments of transcendence—just steady songs defined by funky drum beats, casual guitar noodling, and eerie background noises that we've come to expect from Radiohead.

I doubt the absence of payoffs is a coincidence, considering that the power of the guitars and real drum-playing that defined Radiohead in their prime (1995's The Bends and 1997's OK Computer) have been muzzled in favor of Radiohead lite—an intentionally mellow, lo-fi brand of arty minimalism that's appreciated most by music snobs and the 3 a.m. stoner crowd. This mood music can be heard throughout their catalogue, but was cemented by 2007's In Rainbows.

Limbs' shortcomings don't change the fact that Radiohead are the truest of artists, uncompromising nonconformists who make music for themselves before anyone else. But what bothers me is the notion that the band could one day mock the very pedestal that critics and fans have put them on by intentionally putting out a shit record, and no one would have the balls to say it sucked.

Much worse, it would be called "art."

On the album's last track, "Separator," Yorke cries, "I'm a fish now out of water... Wake me up." I'd like to think it's an acknowledgment of the musical limbo Radiohead's in, but I'm not holding my breath for another Bends. Because the truth is that Radiohead was once a rock band with electronic tendencies, but now they're an electronic outfit with rock stylings. And I keep wondering how drummer Phil Selway feels about splitting time with his computerized counterpart.

My hope is that one day they'll return to form, but not by mimicking The Bends—just without the restraint of Limbs, and without being challenging for the sake of being challenging.

***
Right on: In response to Rolling Stone's "Radiohead Reconnect" article in its May 3rd, 2012 issue, reader Jason Squier of St. Ansgar, Iowa had this to say:

"When I learned that Radiohead 'learned to rock again,' I got my hopes up that they finally gave up on the experimental samples and beeps. I guess they still feel it's uncool to create songs with a guitar and amp. I hope next time they reinvent themselves, they make music the fans want to hear. I wish it were 1997 again."

Celebrity Sighting #9

Rachel Dratch isn't the only celebrity who rides the subway.

After the 4 train pulled into Grand Central on the Friday morning commute, I almost didn't see him. But I couldn't miss that brilliant white ponytail just a few feet to my right.

In a second I was pretty sure it was Joel Godard, the former announcer for Late Night with Conan O'Brien. And in the next, I could hear it was him.

"Getting off... Getting off" boomed the unmistakable radio voice as he pushed his way through the middle of the train before the doors closed on him.

Gotta admit: Would have loved to see the rage in the old man had he not made it out in time.

Conspiracy theorists blame shadow government for return of ABC's 'V'

By Ken Devine

Blasted by critics and despised by television viewers everywhere, only one possible explanation exists for the return of ABC's lame alien-invasion series, V: its importance in disclosure, a clandestinely coordinated effort planned for decades by top-secret government officials to eventually reveal the truth about extraterrestrials to humanity.

That's according to Edward Tussel, spokesperson of the Disclosure Project.

"The concept of disclosure is nothing new," he said. "But the government's desperation has gotten to the point of ensuring that a cheesy B-grade serial with cheap special effects and throwaway characters stays on the air, even though it has no business doing so."

The second-season premiere of V was met by a tough crowd on Tuesday night. Despite heavy promotions by ABC, the episode averaged only a 2.20 rating—60% lower than the series debut last year.

Tussel emphasized the peculiarity of V's renewal in contrast with ABC's cancellation of another flawed 2009 serial, FlashForward, which performed only slightly worse in the ratings but was actually halfway decent.

"At least we could rely on FlashForward for repeated laughs from Joe Fiennes' overacting and his character’s inevitable relapse into alcoholism that ruined his marriage," he said. "Better yet was his hilarious revelation about why his flash-forward was blurry.

"You listening? Check this out, I've got it down..."

"BECAUSE I WAS LOADED, OK?!"

"OK?!"

Once his laughter subsided, Tussel sat back down and sighed.

"But, FlashForward's not coming back."



Robert Covell from the Mutual UFO Network said that the agenda behind NBC's The Event is even more transparent than V, considering that the pilot centers around a black president wanting to announce the truth about aliens to the American people.

"Like humanity, these TV shows are by no means alone," he said, citing just a few recent movies like Skyline, and Megamind, and District 9, and The Fourth Kind. And Race to Witch Mountain, and Cloverfield, and The Day the Earth Stood Still.

But that's far from all. At least five upcoming films that center around the human-alien conflict are also in production: Battle: Los Angeles, Super 8, Cowboys & Aliens, Men in Black III, and Under the Skin.

"Aliens are in vogue these days," he said. "Whoever's funding these projects really wants to prepare us for some huge, intergalactic space battle that may usher in the apocalypse."

"But what if the aliens that eventually come are actually peaceful?" he pondered.

Covell also noted that TNT is getting into the mix with Falling Skies, an upcoming miniseries about—you guessed it—an alien invasion. Steven Spielberg is executive producer.

Covell questions the motives of the legendary director simply because of his otherworldly track record, which suspiciously includes E.T., Men in Black, A.I. Artificial Intelligence, War of the Worlds, Super 8, and Cowboys & Aliens.

Covell even went as far as to say that Spielberg himself is probably an alien.

"Or at least a hybrid of some sort," he clarified. "Man, that would make a great movie."

ABC, NBC, TNT, and especially Spielberg all declined to comment on this story.

• Hellbent: "V producers aren’t letting modest ratings hold them back: The upcoming second season finale is going to finish with a major cliffhanger, sources say. The story decision is crucial as it suggests the producers have some degree of confidence that the series will land a third season..."
  
  
• Justice: 'V' bows out quietly on ABC
  
  
• Two for the road: NBC Cancels 'The Event'; No Season Two
  
  
• David Wilcock Talks The Event, V

The Best Man Speech

For Shawn Smith
December 11th, 2010
Smyrna, Tennessee

Hi there. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Ken Devine, and it's an honor to be Shawn's Best Man. And now for a story.

About seven years ago, two guys were looking for girls in Nashville on New Year's Eve. These guys spent most of their evening at a local bar, but instead of trying to pick up girls, they just ended up watching college football. So after an uneventful evening, they decided to pack it up and head home a few hours into the new year. But that's when things got really desperate.

So, these guys made it back to the apartment complex where they lived. But despite not having talked to one girl the entire night, they weren't about to call it quits. So in a last-ditch effort, they drove around the apartment complex, just patrolling the streets and combing for any sign of life. And in particular, any female who might have been walking around by herself at 3 in the morning.

As if that wasn't pathetic enough, things sunk to a new low when they rolled down their windows and started screaming things like "WHERE ARE YOU?" and "COME OUT OF THERE!" To no one's surprise, no girl actually took the bait.

Shawn and I came up empty-handed that night, but we never stopped in our pursuit of women. Over the years, we had some success here and there, but never really found the girl we were supposed to be with.

About five years later, it was early 2009, and that's when Shawn met Niki. In the beginning they were friends who worked together at State Farm, and later discovered that they lived in the same apartment complex. And much like me and Shawn, Shawn and Niki quickly bonded over a love for Pearl Jam and rock music and college football.

Now, at the time I was actually living in New York, but I kept hearing from Shawn about this new girl he was hanging out with, and how cool and attractive she was. And I just remember thinking that it wouldn't be long before their friendship developed into something more. And that's exactly what happened.

I didn't actually meet Niki until I was in town for Shawn's bachelor party a few months ago. But when I finally did, my first impression of her didn't change at all. Niki is passionate, energetic, and extremely hard-working. She's smart, strong-minded, and beautiful. And she just has this great, magnetic spirit to her. Niki's just somebody you want to be around.

Now, Shawn on the other hand... No, Shawn's a great guy. To me, Shawn is the most honest, loyal, kind, and understanding person I know. He's my best friend. And in his relationship with Niki, he's grown to not only be this incredible selfless partner, but also a loving father to a child whose now his. And if that doesn't speak volumes about his level of commitment to both Niki and Aidan, then I don't know what does, because that's what love's all about.

But, I think one of the best things about Shawn is that he's a believer. Through all of the ups and downs in his life—whether it's Ole Miss's upset of Florida in the Swamp in 2008, or the really dangerous car accident that he was lucky to survive about five years ago—Shawn's always believed in God's plan. And it's not just something that you learn in church. For Shawn, it's more of a natural sense of God's purpose in his life, and an understanding that no matter what happens, God's always in control. And it's this purpose—this direction—that's led him directly to Niki and Aidan, whom he'll continue to love and bless just as deeply as God has loved and blessed him.

Now, being single for the better part of your life isn't easy. I can attest to just how hard it can be. But what makes me happy is knowing that despite all the loneliness, and after all the dead ends and times of wondering if things were ever gonna change, the best guy I know married the best girl for him. And there's no better feeling than knowing where you're supposed to be in life and who you're supposed to be spending it with. So, while that search is finally over for Niki and Shawn, a great new adventure is about to begin.

All that's to say that with Shawn now officially off the market, and me getting married next year, I think it's safe to say that our days of creeping on girls in apartment complexes at 3 in the morning are over. But that's probably a good thing.

So, with that, I just want to say congratulations to the bride and groom. Niki and Shawn, I also want to thank you for being such great people, such wonderful friends, and for positively affecting the lives of each and every person in this room. It's why we're here for you now, and why we'll always be there for you.

I love you guys.

One Little Victory

And even Stephen Abraham agrees with me.

"Truth is so hard to tell, it sometimes needs fiction to make it plausible."
—Francis Bacon

• And another: "The perfect excuse for war"
• Filth? Ha!: "Shame on all the skeptics"
• Rebuttal: "Shame on all the skeptics"

On The Night

One of the best things about music is the discovery process, because by and large, music is a constant pursuit. This explains why we tend to like music more that we find ourselves.

Last month I discovered On The Night, a gem of a live album by classic rock outfit Dire Straits. This was a treasured find for two reasons. One, because Dire Straits' already great songs sound greater live, where the band has room to explore their unique sonic textures. And two, because I can't help but feel that this album was overlooked when it was released in 1993, lost in the shuffle of grunge's heyday and the twilight of a career.

Fronted by Mark Knopfler, one of the most masterful finger-picking guitarists of our time, Dire Straits made music that was always a little left of center. The British quartet emerged in the post-punk era of the late 1970s to play what was decidedly not post-punk. Actually, their body of work makes for an interesting study, given the melding of roots rock, blues-jazz stylings, MTV-made singles and slow-burning ruminations. And even as their sound grew to incorporate some of the cheesier earmarks of the '80s, Dire Straits maintained a pop sensibility while never losing their mature edge.

"The band's music was offset by Knopfler's lyrics, which approximated the winding, stream-of-conscious narratives of Bob Dylan." —Allmusic

On The Night works so well because it does what any live album should do, which is capture a band at its peak with the intangible energy that can't be felt from a studio recording. As evidence: the exuberant buildup of the already happy-go-lucky "Walk Of Life"; the realization of arena-rock power on "Heavy Fuel"; the dark intrigue and palpable eeriness of "Private Investigations"; and the simple romantic beauty of the three-note licks on "Romeo And Juliet." Although some of these musical moments are represented in their studio counterparts, they really feel different and come alive here on this album, which was culled from two European performances in May 1992.

Another success of On The Night is the transcendence of the songs themselves, over half of which are augmented with more progressive arrangements. With the free reign of the live setting, songs like opener "Calling Elvis" and closer "Brothers In Arms" expand gracefully without overstaying their welcome. Moreover, most of the 10 tracks here are jazzed up and countrified with liberal use of saxophone and pedal steel guitar, which provides a warm richness that plays to their advantage.

On The Night provides a snapshot of an underappreciated band in their prime, not long before they hung up the guitars for good. While it includes most of the hits, the setlist plays naturally, without the obligation to include all the hits — "Sultans Of Swing" and "So Far Away" are notably absent, but not terribly missed when looking at the whole.

Even though Dire Straits is long gone from the modern zeitgeist, on this night, we can all look back and savor the moment with a fond sense of retroactive nostalgia.

Less for More

A few months ago, I dined at Spunto in Soho for lunch, and I think it's time I said something about it. Because after all these years, my long-feared suspicions have been confirmed: The thin-crust pizza market is a racket.

Does it taste good? Sure. Is it worth the price you pay? Not unless it's Marion's.

Just look at the menu: $13 for a large pie without any toppings. Since plain-cheese pizza sort of defeats the purpose of eating pizza in the first place, an additional layer of toppings will cost you five more bucks. I'd be tempted to try one of Spunto's house specialty pizzas if it didn't put me out $24.

I realize that some people are okay with paying whatever for thin-crust pizza because they prefer that to thicker crusts. Honestly, I wouldn't be opposed to the prices if I didn't get hungry an hour or two later.

So if anyone else's experience is anything like mine, thin-crust pizza ultimately serves as a snack, but you end up paying a full meal's price for it. This isn't right, especially at chains that charge the same for thicker crusts.

Preference is one thing; principle is another.

One Ring To Bind Her

How to propose to your girlfriend in 13 steps:

1. Create a relationship crossword puzzle. Include inside jokes, pet names, common likes, and references to relationship history.
   


2. Leave crossword puzzle for girlfriend to find when she comes home.
   
   
   


3. Wait for girlfriend to meet you at the secret location revealed by unscrambling certain letters on the crossword. One location could be Belvedere Castle in Central Park.
   
4. Give girlfriend a big hug and kiss when she does finally find you off to the side of the castle, away from all the tourists.
   
   
   
5. Present her a single rose. Then say, "Well, I guess we can head back home now." Make sure she knows you're not serious.
   
6. Pull out the ring and say "Do I even have to ask?" with a knowing smile. But follow up with "Will you marry me?" just to be sure.
   
7. Take pictures.
   
   
   
8. Appreciate the complete randomness and coincidental timing of a former hockey teammate running into you moments after popping the big one...

   "I was strolling through central park on Saturday afternoon with a lovely coed. As we ascended to the platform of the castle that resides off the southwest edge of the Great Lawn, I glanced to my left and saw a very familiar towering god-like figure. So familiar, after a quick double take I zoned in and got closer, it was no other than the one the only Kenny "Marquee" Devine. Not only was the sighting out of left field, couple it with the fact that literally moments earlier in that exact spot with his princess in hand, he asked the lady of his life that eternal question.....and she graciously accepted. Hearts across America broke this weekend. Kenny, congrats big guy...From every last member of the Tea Time community, we wish you nothing but the best....salud"

9. Take more pictures.
   
   
   
   
10. Accept the fact that, yes, Billy Squier's "Love Is The Hero" is indeed playing in your head. But it's cool.
    
11. Dine at a great steakhouse.
    
    
    
12. Tell the world.
    
    
    
13. Feast on a celebratory breakfast the next morning, with whipped cream symbolizing your sentiment.
    
    

Rest in Peace

NEW YORK—Shortly after 9:30 p.m EDT on Monday, July 19th, Dell computer White Lightning was officially pronounced dead from owner decommissioning. Lightning, a Dell Dimension XPS T550 purchased for around $3,200 in July 1999, was just days away from what would have been its eleventh birthday.

During White Lightning's 10-year tenure, Bill Clinton was impeached, MySpace blew up, the Red Sox won the World Series, and owner Ken Devine got a girlfriend.

Devine maintains that Lightning had a great run, but he's alone in that sentiment. Every other person who has come into contact with the mainstay machine insists that it was a painstakingly slow death over the course of a decade where computer technology advanced by several leaps and bounds. In fact, family members attest that Devine's stubborn refusal to even consider replacing the sluggish dinosaur bordered on cruelty—more so, perhaps, to himself.

Yet critics agree that the 550 MHz has-been had a short stint of glory in its first year of existence, when 16-megabyte video cards ruled the personal-computing frontier, and 20 gigs of hard-drive space was much more than anyone would ever need.

Yes—people really lived like this.

No one's sure how, but White Lightning managed to run on the Windows 98 Second Edition operating system all the way until late 2006, when a freak system-file deletion wouldn't allow Devine to re-enter Windows. A tech-savvy co-worker came to the rescue and bypassed Lightning's hard drive by adding a second one running Windows XP—an operating system already half a decade old.

Devine enjoyed the much-more-stable XP, but had his first realization that Lighting was behind the times when he received an iPod for Christmas in 2007. The portable music device was a fraction of the size of his computer, but at 80 gigs, had the storage capacity of four times more than his once-super computer.

After months of contemplation, Devine reluctantly decided on Monday that it was time to replace White Lightning with Black Thunder, a far-superior Dell machine configured by a pair of former co-workers who felt sympathy for Devine's situation. The duo was compelled to end the years of neglect after learning of Devine's surprising contentment with his long-running personal-computing history. Oddly enough, the speedy PC now adored by Devine sat in his closet for the past 15 months, just waiting for its chance.

"I just felt like it was time," said Devine on retiring his old friend. "Whitey was taking longer naps, and he just sort of gave up when I tried to watch videos on YouTube. I only saw a new frame like once every 15 seconds."

Devine revealed that the key to preserving such an antiquated computing device was a steady diet of program management and maintenance, particularly with nightly shutdowns.

But more than anything, an unprecedented level of patience.

"The good news is now I don't have to put my clothes away or make a sandwich while my computer is booting up," he said. "But I think this whole experience built a lot of character, both for me and White."

"I wouldn't change a thing," he added.

Lightning is survived by PC siblings Blue Bronco and Black Stealth, the latter of which has been in a coma for the past several months. Brother Red Bull passed away quietly in 2007.