Blacked Out

The lights go dim on Nebraska’s attempt to end its ‘reprehensible’ 29-game losing streak to ranked opponents

Agony of defeat, agony of da’ fibula: Star quarterback Dylan Raiola coughs up the ball under the weight of a USC pass rusher in Nebraska’s crushing 21-17 loss to the Trojans during the “blackout” game at Memorial Stadium last Saturday night. Huskers fans learned Sunday that Raiola would be lost for the season do a broken fibula. – Illustration by Anthony Aleman

To say Nebraska leaned into Saturday night’s “blackout” game against USC would be an understatement. As you already know, the team was decked out in black jerseys, pants, socks and shoes, with everything on its helmet that is normally red switched to black, too. From the television overheads we saw, it appeared 98 percent-ish of Huskers fans followed suit (there were bound to be a couple of “that guys” refusing to eschew their red – as always, don’t be that guy), as the Sea of Red morphed into the Sea of Black for one night in November. The endzones and the traditional “N” at midfield? They were black, too.

To top it off, AC/DC’s “Back in Black” pumped over the loudspeakers as Nebraska took the field. The only shocking thing is that it seemed to be working. Thanks to a couple of textbook first half drives led by the running of tough sumbitch Emmett Johnson and timely passing from quarterback Dylan Raiola, the Huskers held a 14-6 lead early in the third quarter. It wasn’t perfect, but for all intents and purposes, we were rolling. To make things even better, transfer cornerback Andrew Marshall intercepted USC quarterback Jayden Maiava on the Trojans’ first drive of the second half, giving Nebraska the ball on USC’s 34-yard-line. Judging by the sound emanating through the television, the bloodthirsty crowd (Is bloodthirsty an exaggeration? Possibly … but it was just one night after Halloween sooooo…) somehow leveled up – 85,000-plus black-clad grim reapers all ready to watch NU pile on and layeth to rest the 28-game losing streak to ranked opponents once and for all. Marshall’s interception was a turnover that surely launched a hundred-thousand texts: “LFGGGGGGGG! This is it. Finally!”

Indeed, the blackout was working. But this is Nebraska football we’re talking about. So of course, things were about to get dark.

After Marshall’s interception, suddenly svelte head coach Matt Rhule made an absolute four-course disaster of the ensuing drive. The leader of the program burned two timeouts in the span of four plays, a mishap that, rightfully so, had fans immediately questioning the worthiness of his contract extension (more on that later). On the drive after that, Dylan finally succumbed to an injury; by Sunday afternoon we learned that he would miss the rest of the season (more on that later, too).

You know the rest of the story: USC head coach Lincoln Riley put the Blackshirts on their heels by going back to leaning on the run; Maiva overcame his struggles to complete two deep beauties (of course he did) that led to touchdowns; NU's backup quarterback T.J. Lateef understandably struggled; and by the time Emmett and Lateef finished playing a game of footsie on the penultimate play of the game, which ended with Johnson stumbling short of the first down, the No. 23-ranked Trojans prevailed 21-17, marking Nebraska’s 29th-straight loss to a ranked opponent.   

Life as a Huskers fan. Ain’t it grand?

The blackout was cool. I guess. It was fun – for a while. I guess. It would’ve been a lot cooler had they won. No guessing required there. By the time the lights when out in Memorial Stadium, it all rang hollow. This is just one man’s opinion, but promotions like Saturday night’s blackout are fun and cool when you win; desperate and loserly when you fall. It’s something Nebraska has been pretty good at doing against ranked opponents since this reprehensible losing streak began with a loss to No. 11 Wisconsin in 2016.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and remember what your life was even like in 2016. It was a long time ago.     

Depressed yet? Me, too. Onward to “Four Downs.” It’ll be a little like playing backyard football after learning your best friend got grounded, but there’s a lot to talk about, so we soldier forth. Hut. Hike. I guess. 

FOUR DOWNS

1. Nebraska finally catches a break. And what do you know, it’s the worst possible kind. I hate to make light of injuries, but sometimes all you can do is laugh (that’s easy for me to say; Dylan, we love you, man, and here’s to a speedy recovery). But the thing that will not be talked about out loud actually happened, so I guess we can talk about it out loud now: Dylan Raiola broke his fibula on a broken play and a hip-drop tackle that, although not done with any sort of intentional malice, would have been a penalty in the NFL. And it was probably only a matter of time; No. 15 suffered nine sacks against Minnesota (27 on the season), and even a cat only has nine lives.

Let’s get this out of the way: All indications are that Dylan will be back under center for Nebraska in 2026, although I’d still say there’s a 15 percent or so chance he ends up transferring. This outsider has absolutely zero inside information on this; I say it only because the transfer portal – specifically the game of musical chairs played by quarterbacks – is that eff’ing wild. Absolutely nothing would surprise me, and absolutely nothing is off the table. An ESPN headline “Dylan Raiola transferring to _____” (pick a school, any school) appearing across the ticker in January or February would not surprise me, thought it would take me on a journey through the five stages of grief that might last well into the next decade. And, as much as the Raiolas love Nebraska, the ultimate goal is to get Dylan to the NFL.

I’m just saying. But while I’m at it, let me say it one more time, to make it crystal clear: that’s not a prediction, it’s simply a referendum on the state of college football. I hate it, too.   

Anyway, that brings us to T.J. Lateef, who is straight outta Compton and gets his first start back home in Los Angeles against UCLA in the Rose Bowl. You bet your ass it’s the stuff that dreams and movies are made of. Very fitting that the famous HOLLYWOOD sign will be lurking somewhere in the distance – although L.A. is a pretty big town, so maybe way, way, way in the distance. But as you saw on Saturday night … T.J. was … ummm … shaky? … when he stepped in after Dylan’s injury. Toto, we’re not playing against Akron and Houston Christian anymore. But! In T.J.’s defense, human nature dictates that

there is a difference as a backup quarterback preparing for a game in which you might play versus preparing for a game in which you definitely are going to play. In that vein, theoretically he should be more mentally prepared for the Bruins, in addition to getting more reps in practice. Hopefully nerves won’t lead to moire panic decisions and dropped snaps (if you really want to puke, watch how this middle receiver screen to Jacory Barney was developing on the 4th quarter play where Lateef dropped the snap – that’s at least a 20-yard gain if not a house call … goddamn it all to hell).

2. With Dylan on the shelf, Emmett now seems to be the end-all, be-all of the offense; but what can offensive coordinator Dana Holgorsen do to unlock Lateef’s strengths? Does he need to?

Last week as the caption to Sir Anthony’s cartoon I said that Emmett is a burgeoning candidate for All-Big Ten. Check that. He’s a burgeoning candidate to be an All-American (Nebraska hasn’t had a first-team All-American since Ameer Abdullah in 2011). But Emmett ranks second in the nation in rush yards, with 1,002, and is first among players from a Power 4 conference.

The craziest thing? As a team, Nebraska averages 135 yards per game on the ground. Emmett accounts for 111 of those, taking for himself an enormous piece of the Nebraska rush yards pie at 82%. Staggering. For reference, the second leading rusher among Power 4 conference teams,

Missouri’s Ahmad Hardy, averages 117 yards per game, or about 50 percent of his team’s 235 yards per game. Fifty percent is still a healthy slice, but it drives home the point that Emmett’s number is staggering. Still, despite the hefty workload he doesn’t ever look tired and he gets “skinny through the hole,” seemingly disappearing amongst a pack of big ‘ol bodies for a second or two before somehow emerging for an 8-yard gain. He also avoids big hits. And with Dylan on the shelf, he’s also the new torch carrier as the guy with “the thing we won’t talk about out loud.”

Shhhhh.

As for UCLA, their defense ranks 124th out 134 teams (it’s pretty hard to be that bad) in the country in rushing yards per game, so they seem to be ripe for Emmett’s picking. The counter, of course, is without Dylan just how one-dimensional will Nebraska be? Can T.J. pass – even just a little bit? Can the receivers get open? Will they even have time to get open?

(It seems like a good time to point out two things: 1). Although Dane Key and Nyziah Hunter are surely upgrades over last year’s outside duo of Isiah Neyor and Jahmal Banks, they still rarely get separation on deep balls and fade routes. The degree of difficulty for Dylan – and now Lateef – on those passes is way too high. 2). They still probably suck, but to their credit the offensive line has improved these last two weeks. Most of that has been the run blocking, but it needs to be said.)

All eyes will be on Lateef, but let’s see how the Hollywood drama unfolds from offensive coordinator Dana Holgorsen’s director’s chair. I’ll stop juuuuuust short of calling Holgorsen a disappointment through his 13 games as Nebraska’s O.C., but it hasn’t been great, either (the play-calling against Minnesota will forever be a true WTF moment). There is, however, an argument to be made that Dana is better suited to call games with a mobile quarterback under center. It takes pressure off the offensive line, keeps the defense off balance, and creates scenarios where not everyone needs to be perfect. Many an offensive coordinator has been deemed “genius” by seemingly doing nothing but having his mobile quarterback do drop back, let chaos unfold, and then watch as the said mobile quarterbacks off running when the play breaks down. Teams do it to Nebraska all the time, and aggravatingly so.  

3. I still really like defensive coordinator John Butler, but… Sometime in the second quarter USC found the tiny little hole in our Death Star and exploited it like Luke Skywalker “used to bullseye wombats in his T-16 back home.” But these were not tiny little holes on Saturday night; in fact, at one point they started to resemble the holes USC famously opened up against Kevin Cosgrove’s defense in 2007 when USC pounded us 49-31. (See the picture for reference; in simpler times announcers like John Madden used to say things like, “that hole was so big you could drive a truck through it,” which was typically hyperbolic – just not for the Blackshirts of ‘07.)

Anyway, for some incomprehensible reason, on Saturday USC's Coach Riley – who is also their play caller – stubbornly insisted on forcing the passing game for most of the first half, even though USC QB Maiava was misfiring for most of the game and Nebraska’s coverage was strong. Riley was our best friend … until he wasn’t. USC eventually racked up 202 yards on the ground.    

I heard the Omaha World-Herald’s Sam McKewon argue on Monday that this was part of the plan, and that the plan was “brilliant”: Give USC what they wanted between both 30-yard-lines and tighten up as they moved into scoring position. I love you Sam, and you’re right like, 97% of the time, but I respectfully disagree on this point. If that was the plan, it was a demoralizing one to both the defense and the crowd. Habits developed early bit the Huskers late. And with all the conditioning of Pavlov’s dog, when USC needed to run it inside the 30, they did so with relative ease. Still, in the end Butler’s defense surrendered just 21 points. I’ve made this point before, but giving up 21 points in modern day football is good enough to put you squarely in “it’s not their fault” territory. The offense should be able to reciprocate with at least 24. This loss is not on the defense. 

4. When it comes to clock management – and overall in-game coaching – this Rhuler just doesn’t measure up. I can’t take credit for that one. Hat tip to my dad for making a well-timed dad joke as Rhule was burning those two precious second half timeouts within the span of four plays. Two. In four plays. In the third quarter. But with Rhule signed to an extension through 2032 and now carrying a $71 million buyout, this is not a laughing matter.

Rhule is a smooth talker, and as I’ve said, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. He connects with kids, knows how to play the (albeit kinda gross) game that is present day college football, and the future looks bright (it’s early in the process, but check out the wicked-awesome start the recruiting class for 2027 is off to. And the man can give one helluva pregame speech. The problem is, the fiery rhetoric of “IF WE DIE, WE DIE!” turns into panic and indecision and the thousand-yard stare on the sidelines during the actual game when things get tight. “IF WE DIE, WE DIE!” turns into “ummm … I’m not sure … if we should die … quite yet … or maybe later? … then we can die? … ummm … hey Dana, a little help here? … OK, OK … if we die, we die! … no wait … time out! … I gotta think some more about this whole ‘if we die, we die’ thing.”

Not exactly inspiring stuff. I hate to do it – which means I’m going to do it – but living in the past is about all we’ve got. There was no indecision from Tom Osborne when he went for two against Miami in the 1984 Orange Bowl. Andrew Cunanan missed a field goal Saturday after a ten-minute shitshow; Kenny Calhoun got in the way of Turner Gill’s pass on Jan. 1, 1984, because in football sometimes the other team makes good plays. If we die, we die. Osborne didn’t say it, because he didn’t have to. He just went out and did it.

“Deep-ish Thoughts,” by Jack Handoff

I thought about adding another Fifth Down this week, but that’d be another 500 words and you’ve got things to do and Facebook to scroll through. So consider these half deep, random thoughts, in honor of “Saturday Night Live’s” Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey.

Special teams: A week after Mike Ekeler’s finest hour, his group took a step back – although in Ekeler’s defense, he can’t go out and kick for Cunanan and punter Archie Wilson. But a missed field goal and less-than-spectacular punting are concerns, particularly in what might be cold-weather games against Penn State and Iowa.   

The training staff: Sooo … let me get this straight: The coaching and training staff decided that Dylan was not going to go back into the game, but no X-rays were taken? Nary an icepack? No freaking R.I.C.E.? Instead, Dylan was seen walking and jumping and running … on a freaking broken bone. Maybe that means nothing in terms of his long-term recovery, and a physical therapist friend of mine informed me that the fibula is non-weight bearing bone, but still, drag this one into your desktop’s C&C Music Factory folder. Things that make you go hmm… 

In my fifth down last week, I predicted a win here against UCLA. In the aftermath of Saturday’s blackout disappointment, and on the precipice of going off the deep end, I found myself shifting gears into marking this down as a loss. But hearing that UCLA had the 124th-ranked rushing defense gave me new hope.

Ultimately, I think the Huskers get one more here, if for no other reason than UCLA is just not that good and Lateef, in addition to returning home, isn’t exactly walking into a wolf’s den; the Bruins claim to draw about 30,000 fans for home games, but one search on Google images will tell you it’s probably half that. Any 30,000 fans they get on Saturday night will mostly be clad in red. And if Lateef struggles, Nebraska has shown it can win ugly and it hasn’t been all bad this year for Nebraska at the end of games: they held on to beat a still-good (despite getting smacked at Utah on Saturday) Cincinnati in Week 1; there were also close wins over not-so-good Michigan State, Maryland and Northwestern; and tight end Luke Lindenmeyer’s girlfriend didn’t say “no” to his proposal after the Akron game in Week 2. So at least there’s that!   

The Huskers already qualified for a bowl – a win here could vault them up the pecking order as to which bowl they are selected for. Hell, Nebraska could still finish 9-3. But with the stink of the Minnesota game bound to linger and losses to brand name but “meh” 2025 versions of Michigan and USC – at home, no less – it already feels like a season of missed opportunities. Seven days ago, Rhule signed a two-year extension. Five days after the blackout, while hope shines bright in his press conferences, in terms of results in big games on the field, the lights on Rhule’s tenure continue to flicker.