Cindy Lange-Kubick: Tom Osborne's legendary return

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The once and future king returns.

Tom Osborne head of Huskerville. Lord of our fair land. Savior of a football season.

The only question remaining? Will he wear tights and a crown?

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What excitement the last few days hath wrought in the state of the downtrodden.

The bloodletting on Monday — the only thing missing was a sell-out crowd and starving lions in the coliseum, er, stadium.

And then the coronation, albeit temporary, on Tuesday.

What more could we ask for?

Would a win come Saturday be too much?

Perhaps.

Nonetheless, a psychological victory has been granted.

It sprang from the lips of a chancellor to a people battered by the ill winds of football fortune.

The dark lord, Steve Pederson, ousted. Could it be true?

And then, before we knew it, our man TO returning to lead his people out of the wilderness.

The option, our light in the darkness.  The ground game, our fortress.

"Gimme that ol' time religion," Willie Nelson sang on my CD player Tuesday as the news filtered out on message boards and talk radio across the state.

"It was good for our fathers and it's good enough for me."

The clouds parted. The sun broke through and the whole dadgum state seemed to be singing the chorus.

Gimme that ol’ time Husker football, gimme that ol’ time Husker football... it will take us all to the BCS bowl, and that’s good enough for me....

Who can blame us? Let those who have not coveted a change in leadership cast the first stone. (Note to Dan Cook: Sorry, you’ve had your turn.)

Is this not a day we deserve? For we have suffered greatly for our sins. We have worshiped the false idol of  the West Coast offense. We have offered up our gold and silver to fill the coffers of men who turned their backs on our traditions.

And so the ink wasn’t dry on the athletic department press release before hope began to rise again in our wounded hearts.

Hope. A four-letter word for Winning Season.

Could we be blamed for getting caught up in the mass hysteria clogging airwaves and Web sites? If football was our state-sanctioned religion, Dr. Tom was the second coming. Could Bo Pelini be soon sitting at his right hand?

We ask a lot of mere mortals.

But then again, we are Nebraska. We have been hurt.

We would not see the bedrock of our civilization crumble without a fight, without causing the earth below Memorial Stadium to tremble with our wrath. (Not to mention the discomfort of holding onto those touchdown balloons, hour upon hour.)

And for today, as we feel the solid ground once again beneath our feet, we return to the fold humbled and grateful.

We shall forget the years we scorned the leadership of the doctor who ruled our House, the blasphemy we poured at his feet as a man who couldn’t git ‘er done, a man who didn’t have what it took to go all the way, a man who didn’t know anything but up the middle.

It is a new day. And we will rejoice in the day that Tom Osborne has granted us.

We will once again be a patient people, now that order has returned to our land.

We will once again be the best football fans in the nation, bowing low to the gods who have made us great.

We will sleep well tonight.

Although, if the truth be told, there is this: Tom Osborne at a press conference late Tuesday afternoon, dressed in a dark suit, standing in the glow of the television lights, a mere mortal.

A mortal guarding against the expectation of Saturday miracles on Stadium Drive.

“I don’t come here with a whole lot of answers,” the man said.

And still the cameras clicked and the tape recorders rolled and if you closed your eyes and listened real close, you could almost hear the crowd, rapt at the coronation.

Save us, Tom. Save us.

Amen.

Reach Cindy Lange-Kubick at 473-7218 or clangekubick@journalstar.com