I’m not ready to write this.

I’m not ready to write this because Michigan was supposed to win. The Wolverines entered the game regarded as the better football team than TCU and it’s easy to leave that loss still convinced of that notion.

I’m not ready to write this because I want to know how that game goes if Roman Wilson’s touchdown-that-wasn’t rightfully counts, or if they call a textbook targeting as targeting, and I also don’t want to write about how those were far from the only problem. Any officiating screw-ups were matched, and then some, by Michigan’s self-inflicted errors.

I’m not ready to write this because I just spent the last month letting myself believe that the second national championship of my lifetime was distinctly within the realm of possibility.

Mostly, though, I’m not ready to write this because it may be the last thing I write for a while. I wish I could hit a different note on the way out, but I’ve learned to play the music I’ve been given.

There aren’t many Hollywood endings in real life, and the ones that happen often occur at the expense of another. TCU’s storybook season continues for another week. They would’ve had a similarly crushing experience if U-M completed their comeback.

It’s been a hell of a year, a hell of a job, a hell of an experience. I wouldn’t have the words for tonight even in better times. Thank you for reading along. Hopefully, one day, there’ll be a different finish.