Was walking toward Mill Avenue just now, headed to get my first brew, when this guy in a Tate Forcier jersey stumbles out of Casey Moores with some ugly hispter chick in his arms. He kind of falls down in the middle of the street, reeking of stale beer and cheap oysters, and when I pass him I see that it's actually Tate Forcier. It was pretty sad to see a former Michigan great in that kind of condition, so I threw him a couple of dollars and wished the Wolverines luck ("but not too much luck!"

).