We’re on the cusp of a couple of rivalry weekends, which should either separate the pretenders from the for-realers or muddy the waters even further. This weekend typically sets up next weekend, the real rivalry weekend, with so-called border wars and such. I find this year’s scheduling particularly interesting. The next two weekends should provide endless hours of entertainment, and piss off a few football widows as well. [Read more…]
Although this ridiculous trophy should be buried behind some hapless farmer’s outhouse, it surely has inspired a lot of prose through the brief years of its existence. Here are some quotes and links for you.
Glasses of Joe proposes some more reasonable replacements for what Drozz refers to as “Office Furniture”:
This season, the game actually means something, but we all know it’s an anomaly. For the most part, unless the above is happening or LJ is breaking 2000 yards for the season, the game is meh. Let’s make this game worth something. I propose the following trophies/obligations the game should carry with it.
[Visit Glasses of Joe for the list of suggestions.]
— Glasses of Joe, November 19, 2008
And from mlive.com:
But no, the trophy also is adorned with snapshots of tailgate parties, artifacts from all-time great panty raids, part of a burned couch, an empty gin bottle, a vial of water from the Red Cedar River, an outdated pair of Joe Paterno’s prescription glasses and a pig hoof — don’t ask.
It used to have a lampshade, but Kerry Collins borrowed it for a frat party he went to once and it hasn’t been seen since.
It’s topped by the same exact chrome-plated plastic football player that’s on the trophy I got at my eighth-grade football banquet at Ninth Street Hall in Grand Rapids in 1967. You would think someone would have accidentally on purpose picked that off on a locker door years ago.
— mlive.com, November 15, 2007
From a senior lineman:
From what I can remember, it’s heavy. I haven’t seen the Land Grant Trophy recently. I know it’s around. I don’t know.
— Rich Ornberger
Some bloggers annually have a field day with it:
Every year, we go through the same old thing with this trophy. I guess we’ll just have to take solace knowing that Penn State and Michigan State fight for the most well-known “ugly” trophy every year.
No, it doesn’t make me feel better, either.
— Zombie Nation, November 17, 2008
Some go to great lengths to spoof it, spending hours with Photoshop in their desire to eradicate the thing:
This piece of trash should be buried in Grant’s Tomb. The mere possession of it would almost make one play worse, for fear of retaining possession for another year.
But, in their defense, as indefensible this slaughter against the senses is, the 50-Yard Lion has discovered that the Land Grant Trophy was really styled after a more obscure, but equally vomit-inducing, trophy . . . THE LOU GRANT TROPHY.
Pictured here. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.
— 50-Yard Lion, November 19, 2008
Others try to fathom the genesis of the monstrosity:
[Mike, over at BSD, presented a hilarious fly-on-the-wall conversation among several PSU and MSU functionaries, which he summed up as follows.]
You think I’m making this up? Take a look at this piece of crap. You practically need a forklift to get it in and out of the stadium. I can buy that miniature Nittany Lion at the Student Book Store for $19.95. I suspect I can buy Sparty at the Michigan State bookstore for a similar price. What’s with the pictures of the buildings? Are those post cards? And don’t even get me started on the bowling trophy someone bought at Walmart and nailed to the top. This thing is pathetic and easily the WORST college football trophy if not the worst trophy in all of sports.
— Black Shoes Diary, November 16, 2006
Finally, one of my favorite descriptive quotes comes from Chico Harlan of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette:
Every year, Penn State or Michigan State — whichever team wins the contest, or perhaps whichever team has spare closet space in its football complex — earns possession of an asymmetrical stanchion called the Land-Grant Trophy, an eyesore award that basically looks like an oversized Rubik’s Cube after five minutes in the mouth of a rottweiler.
— Chico Harlan, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, November 16, 2005