Special thanks to The Last Prophet, who wrote this in its entirety. This story came about one drunken night a few months ago, I started the story, but quickly lost focus. TLP took it up and turned it into something TREMENDOUS. This is win all of the way!!!!

The year: 1943.  A young man's plane is shot down over the jungles of Dutch Guiana, or what is now known as the Republic of Suriname. He wanders, staggering, through the dense jungle foliage. Cutting his way east, in search of civilization, salvation. What he found in that jungle would change the course of history.

In early April, 1943, a young Tom Harmon appears from the primeval forests of Guiana with a gift, tucked neatly away in the left breast pocket of his olive drab. A Melmet.

"What exactly," you utter, "is a Melmet?" Well, my friends, the Melmet is an ancient creature. Some say it is a distant ancestor of modern day Wolverines. They are an odd sort of animal, with two tiny wings, constantly abuzz, perched neatly over their shoulder blades. The body of a Wolverine, miniaturized. Only a half a foot in length, these tiny, bioluminescent beings have been lighting up the jungles of South America for millennia.

The precise date that Melmets arrived in Ann Arbor has been lost amidst the great swells of history, but their arrival had been long prophesied. From the wings on our helmets (Did you think it mere "coincidence" that our helmets have wings?) to the playing of The Victors (Traditional song of the Melmets), they have long been a part of Michigan football lore. A special council was even established in 1817 for the purpose of gathering Melmet artifacts, as well as information on their biology, society, and culture. That's right folks, The U of M, otherwise known as "The Union of Melmet," was created for the purpose of studying and preserving these divine beings.  

The Melmets have long lived in the Big House. Hiding in the cracks and crevices. Building hives on the upper concourse, chattering of victories past, present and future. They hibernate during the week, but on football Saturdays the Melmets come alive.  

Every time Mike Hart churned his stubby legs for an extra two yards, who was pushing at his back? MELMETS! In 2004, each time Braylon leapt into the air for another touchdown catch, who latched onto his shoulder pads, wings fluttering mightily, carrying him upward that extra inch? MELMETS!  

In 1991, when Desmond Howard seemed to make an impossible diving catch in  the corner of the end-zone? MELMETS! Later in '91, the MELMETS built a shield around their chosen hero, guiding him through a labyrinth of Buckeye hoarders into the promise land, and lifting his arm and leg into a Heisman pose they screeched with delight. For every time Desmond Howard smiles, a MELMET is born.

In 1995, a fledgling coach, still with the title of "interim" took the field, and in his first game the MELMETS took hold of Scotty Research's final pass, guiding it into the soft hands of Mercury Hayes. All a smiling Lloyd Carr could think to articulate, "Tremendous," the word that gives birth to a thousand MELMETS.

In 1997, against the Buckeyes, the MELMETS whispered to Charles, "Follow Desmond," and he did.

Now, even though the Melmets live in the Big House, that's not to say that they don't make the occasional road trip. 1969 was a banner year for the Melmets, who ventured into the heart of darkness to emerge with a one Glenn E. "Bo" Schembechler. All of Melmetkind had been whispering about this fellow for years. It has even been said that from the time he was a young man until his passing, two Melmets built a small home under his bed.  

"Now," you state,"if the Melmets are the guardians and protectors of Michigan football, why have they forsaken us in recent years?" Well, my friends, that answer is simple. The Melmets have not forsaken us, we have forsaken the Melmets.  

As many of you know, in 2006, The Great Friend and Kingly Protector of the Melmets passed away unexpectedly. The Melmets were inconsolable, and refused to come out of hiding for weeks. In their absence, the Wolverines lost The  Game of The Century, The Rose Bowl, and home games against Appalachian State and Oregon the following season. In their time of great need, we strayed from them, chanting for regime change. Turning a blind eye as Melmets began to perish.

For you see friends, every time a Michigan fan boos, chants FIRE LLOYD, FIRE RICH ROD, FIRE GERG, UNACCEPTABLE, or refers to the cupboard as having been left bare, a Melmet dies.  

Upon the conclusion of the 2007 season, the Melmets were dealt another blow, as The Great and Noble, Tremendous Champeen of The Melmets proclaimed, "No more." In one final tribute to their great and noble champeen, the Melmets gathered their waning, yet proud army, and marched south. Many a great Melmet was lost on that day, but as the clock read zero, with tears in their eyes, hearts heavy from the wounds of war, they carried their champeen off of the field one last time.

And so the story goes. The last two years, the Melmets have fought on in the face of certain death, and even though their have been moments, the Melmets had all but been eradicated. They carried Tate over a wall of defenders against Indiana, pushed Steven Threet to run faster against Wisconsin, and guided John Thompson's rhinoceros legs across the goal-line in victory. They snarled and gnashed their teeth at those who dared to speak ill of Nick Sheridan, or Jordan Kovacs. They stood guard at Rich Rodriguez's bedside, whispering, "Keep the faith! For they shall see. A hero, not yet full molded, lies in wait." That prophecy, friends, has come to fruition.

From his smile they burst forth, the fallen Melmets. Rebirth'd! Carrying chariots of fire from the highest tip of Football Valhalla. They send word from Yost, from Crisler, Canham, Oosterbaan, Bump, and Bo. Lo! A new hero has arrived, The Smiling Saint of The Melmets, Denard Robinson. With the ferocity of a thousand thunderbolts, they cling to his cleats, keeping them safely on his feet.  

Cackling with glee they dance under cerulean skies and cry out, "Brothers! Sisters! Have you kept faith? For the hero is here, and he has many comrades of great and terrible tenor!"

"Martavious Odoms, Tender of Goats, and Lord of the Smurfs!"
"Roy of Circular Sapling, Future Carrier of The Seal of Carter!"
"Michael Martin, Wrecker of Bulwarks, and Pillager of Sacks!"
"Jordan Kovacs, Friend of the Masses, and Chosen One of The Fraternal Order of Warner!"  
"You! Non-believers! Rejoice, and be converted!"

"Sound the trumpets! Blare the horns! Raise the banner! And play The Victors! For the Melmets have come home to roost!"