I’ve been a lifelong reader of fantasy and science fiction literature (don’t judge me!). But despite quite a broad exposure to both genres, I encountered the work of the late Sir Terry Pratchett only relatively recently. I think I was probably in my late 30s or early 40s when I read my first Pratchett novel, but when I did, it was without question a “Where have you been all my life!” experience. I can say with absolutely no hesitation that Terry Pratchett is the finest wordsmith of the English language who it’s ever been my pleasure to read. He’s best remembered today for his series of 30+ novels about the Discworld—which is, as the name suggests, a massive, flat, circular world being carried through space on the backs of four gigantic elephants, who are in turn standing on the shell of an enormous turtle.
Pratchett’s Discworld novels are funny. The footnotes, in particular, are almost guaranteed to produce guffaws that will have everyone in the room looking at you like they think you've lost your goddamn mind (in fairness, a pretty common experience for me even under normal circumstances). But they’re also a lot more than that. Pratchett was an incredibly insightful observer of the human character. In the “City Watch” series of Discworld books (there are several unique series of novels within the larger Discworld canon, with the City Watch series widely and correctly judged as the best), his protagonist, Samuel Vimes, opines about the “cheap boots” theory of privation—the fact that people without means can only afford the cheapest of footwear, boots that quickly wear out. This means they fall into a cycle of constantly buying cheap boots, whose cost, cumulatively, is a lot more than wealthy people spend on high-quality footwear, condemning the buyers to a life of continuous poverty. You’ll read 200 pages of a Discworld novel, smiling at the humor, and then come across a passage so poignant it will leave you in tears.
Terry Pratchett passed away in 2015 due to complications from Alzheimer’s Disease. Godspeed, Sir Terry, and I hope you’ll accept thanks from one unabashed fanboy whose writing has been immeasurably improved by exposure to your work.
Thank you, dear readers, for indulging my soppy sentimentality. (*) But enough of that. When you're working with a series of 30+ novels, that means you’re going to wind up with a massive number of characters. And that’s perfect for this column, because it means that no matter the characteristics of your particular Big Ten team, there’s something from the Discworld universe that’s a perfect match. So let’s get to it!
(*) Who am I kidding? We all know that you skipped straight to the comments.
#1 UCLA (8-0, 5-0): Moist von Lipwig
Last Week: 2 High: 1 Low: 3 FPV: 8 LPV: 0
Moist von Lipwig is first introduced in Going Postal, one of the later Discworld books. He is a lifelong con man, who has been tried, convicted and sentenced to death by hanging. But Lord Vetinari (see below) suspects that Moist's unique skills can be useful to the city, and so he is spared at the last moment. He is assigned as head of a variety of civic institutions in Ankh-Morpork, first charged with reviving the city's moribund postal service, and then later placed in charge of the royal mint. With the threat of his deferred sentence hanging (SWIDT?) over his head, Moist, reluctantly at first, goes straight. But he turns out to be remarkable successful in his new careers, and by the end of the Discworld books, he widely hailed as one of the cleverest and most resourceful public servants in the city.
UCLA fans must've felt like they'd been sentenced to football death during the Deshaun Foster era. But Bob Chesney's arrival has not only given them a reprieve, it appears to have catapulted them all the way back to respectability in the span of a few short months. By the end of the season, the Bruins might take their place among the most upstanding and respectable of the Big Ten's programs.
#2 Indiana (8-1, 5-1): Esmerelda “Granny” Weatherwax
Last Week: 4 High: 1 Low: 15 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
Esmerelda ("Esme") Weatherwax is the leader of a coven of witches in the tiny kingdom of Lancre. Outwardly, she is prickly, brusque to the point of rudeness, and seemingly dismissive of those she feels to be less intelligent than her (which, in her view, is almost everyone). But she is fiercely protective of everyone who comes into her orbit, and will always choose to take the pain and suffering of the world upon herself rather than asking someone else to bear that burden. I noted that the Discworld books contain moments of incredible emotional weight; the scene in Carpe Jugulum when she's called in to deal with a difficult birth is one of the most powerful.
Curt Cignetti is the Esme Weatherwax of the Big Ten--prickly, rude, and more than a bit arrogant. But when it comes to defending the reputation of the conference (or trolling the SEC), there is no more staunch champion.
#3 Ohio State (6-2, 4-1): Lord Havelock Vetinari ("the Patrician")
Last Week: 1 High: 2 Low: 5 First Place Votes: 0 Last Place Votes: 0
Havelock Vetinari is the Patrician of the city of Ankh-Morpork. He is a firm believer in the principle of One Man, One Vote--he is The Man, so he has the vote. But Vetinari practices what in 18th Century Europe would've been called "enlightened absolutism." He is a despot, but a despot who seeks to provide order and stability to the city. None of the major power players within Ankh-Morpork like him very much, if at all--not the wizards of Unseen University, nor the heads of the city's many guilds, not the people Vetinari has appointed to their positions, or even the head of the City Watch. But he remains in power because, as unpalatable as they find him, they are also absolutely convinced that anyone else would be worse.
That pretty much sums up Ohio State's lengthy tenure as the patrician of the Big Ten. Nobody within the conference much likes OSU, but there's usually someone else they hate more, and things just seem to run more smoothly with OSU in charge.
#4 USC (7-2, 4-2): Unseen University
Last Week: 9 High: 2 Low: 9 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
Unseen University is Ankh-Morpork's foremost (and also only) higher educational institution for the magical arts. It is run by a band of senior wizards, led by the Archchancellor (Mustrum Ridcully, for most of the Discworld series). The faculty at Unseen University includes specialists in a variety of magical subfields, including Post-Mortem Communications (don't call it "necromancy"), Wizardry, Recent Runes, and Sourcery. The wizards who run Unseen University have an unspoken but mutually understood agreement with the city fathers of Ankh-Morpork, under which they promise that they will use their magic to defend the city in times of crisis, so long as the city fathers promise never to ask them to do so.
As for the association, this one's pretty obvious. If there is any institution in the conference that deserves to be called an "Unseen University," it's Southern Cal. This goes double for their fans.
#5 Iowa (6-2, 3-2): Bilious, the "Oh, God" of Hangovers
Last Week: 8 High: 3 Low: 14 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
The Discworld is home to a great many deities, but none of them are less fortunate than Bilious. The Discworld does have a god of wine. But overindulgence comes with predictable costs, and those costs are borne by Bilious, who is known as the "Oh, God!" of Hangovers (because those who invoke his name are typically gripping their heads with both hands as they exclaim, "Oh, God!"). No one enjoys coming into contact with Bilious, who, in his defense, isn't any happier about these encounters than they are--when the god of wine partakes, it is Bilious who must suffer the consequences.
No character in the entire Discworld universe is a better fit for Kirk Ferentz Iowa. If your team has to face the Hawkeyes, you may win. You may lose. But no matter the outcome, you can be certain that the experience is going to be exceedingly painful, and you'll be angrily exclaiming "Oh, God!" several times before the clock hits zero.
#6 Northwestern (6-2, 3-2): The Librarian
Last Week: 3 High: 4 Low: 10 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
The Librarian holds a respected position within Ankh Morpork's prestigious Unseen University. Originally human, in The Light Fantastic, he was transformed into an orangutan. But he ultimately decided that he liked being an orangutan, so he has refused all offers to change him back. The Librarian is generally calm and pleasant in his demeanor, communicating with those around him solely by uttering the words "ook" ("yes") and "eek" ("no"). While usually polite, should he see anyone abusing the books left under his charge, or if anyone is careless enough to refer to him as a "monkey," he may demonstrate the primary advantage he's gained as a result of his transformation--the ability to twist a man's head off with his feet.
Northwestern fans are widely celebrated mocked for bringing books with them to the Wildcats' home games. But every few years, the conference's quiet librarians abruptly surge upward, ripping off their shirts (tarps?) to reveal the bright orange fur beneath, as they lay into an unsuspecting conference foe with horrifying, unexpected furry...um...."fury."
#7 Oregon (5-3, 3-2): Death
Last Week: 11 High: 4 Low: 11 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
Death is a recurring character in most of the Discworld novels. Every time someone (or even something) shuffles off the Discworld's mortal coil, Death will appear. In the Discworld series, Death is not a villain. He has a role to perform (escorting the deceased to the Beyond), and he's very good at his job. But there's no malice in what he does. Those he claims are always treated with respect, though their ears may suffer a bit, as Death ALWAYS SPEAKS IN CAPITAL LETTERS. Death is utterly fascinated by humans, and tries desperately to understand them, though without much success. His least favorite person is Ankh-Morpork City Watch Commander Sir Samuel Vimes, because, as he notes, every time Vimes has a near-Death experience (which is often), it means that Death has to have a near-Vimes experience. Death is not evil, but he is inevitable.
For most of the teams they play (offer not valid for Indiana or during the College Football Playoff--or, apparently, in 2026) Oregon must feel inevitable. Oregon is also loud. Their uniforms speak in capital letters (and if they ever got magically transported to the Discworld, they'd find a way to incorporate Octarine, the color of magic, into their color scheme). In his quest to appear more human, Death would totally get a tattoo of Dan Lanning's wife, if only he had anyplace where a tattoo artist could work.
[Note: It is purely coincidental, but nonetheless serendipitous, that this association came so shortly after the coaching Grim Reaper came for Drew Mehringer.]
#8 Minnesota (5-3, 3-2): Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler
Last Week: 7 High: 5 Low: 13 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
"Whenever two or three are gathered together, someone else will turn up and try to sell them something hot in a bun. This person will probably be C.M.O.T. Dibbler."
--Terry Pratchett and Stephen Briggs, Turtle Recall: The Discworld Companion
Claude Maximillian Overton Transpire Dibbler is the most gregarious and aggressive salesman in the city of Ankh-Morpork. He appears frequently throughout the Discworld novels, eagerly flocking "sausages inna bun" of questionable provenance and even more dubious quality. While he is not really successful (at least not for any meaningful definition of the term), he enthusiastically peddles his wares with the assurance and self-confidence of a Michelin chef. His chief argument for clinching a sale is rooted in his prices, which, he assures his customers, are so low that he's "Cutting me own throat!" to part with them for such a paltry sum.
P.J. Fleck is, without question, the Dibbler of the Big Ten world. While far from the worst program in the conference, the Gophers are also far from the best. But no setback can keep the irrepressible Fleck down for long. Within a week of the worst disaster or Harboring, he's bound to be crowd-surfing through his players, or wiping their bodily fluids on his face in a fit of sheer exuberance and enthusiasm.
#9 Wisconsin (5-3, 3-2): King Verence II of Lancre
Last Week: 5 High: 7 Low: 13 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
Verence II becomes the ruler of the tiny kingdom of Lancre (total population approximately 600, and that's only if you include the dwarfs and the trolls) during the book Wyrd Sisters. His mother was the Queen of Lancre, but his father, in all likelihood, was not the king. Verence II is honest, diligent, hardworking, forthright, humble, and sincerely committed to doing the best for the citizens of his kingdom--which is often put forward as the strongest evidence that he is not, in fact, the son of the former king. He has a vision for his kingdom, one that involves words like "progress," and "modernization" – concepts that most of his subjects cannot spell, and certainly do not endorse. He is also, in certain respects, hopelessly clueless. Upon his marriage to Magrat Garlick (the youngest witch of Granny Weatherwax's coven), he struggled with certain biological concepts relating to reproduction, going so far as to order a textbook on the "marital arts" in an effort to resolve his confusion. Upon being mistakenly delivered an instruction manual on "martial arts," this confusion was only deepened.
Luke Fickell feels an awful lot like Verence II. Since taking over as Wisconsin's head coach, he's attacked his job with eagerness, enthusiasm, and cluelessness in equal measure. He's been determined to implement his vision for the future of Wisconsin football, whether or not that's what Wisconsin fans want. The biggest difference between the two is definitely in the realm of family planning, since he's got like, what, six kids now?
#10 Washington (5-3, 2-3): Gaspode
Last Week: 13 High: 6 Low: 13 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
Note: Look. I'd originally intended for Washington to be Corporal Angua von Uberwald, because she's a werewolf, and seemed to be a decent fit to represent the Huskies. Then Washington started to play football games this season, and I realized that Angua is far, far better than they deserve. So instead, they get Gaspode.
Gaspode is...well, he's a mutt. He's described as "basically grey, with patches of brown, white, and black in outlying areas." (Discworld Wiki). He's chronically ill, often commenting that the only reason he's still alive is that his various illnesses (including, notably, what he calls "licky end") spend as much time fighting one another for dominance as they do trying to kill him. Gaspode can talk, having spent many evenings sleeping in an alley near Unseen University's High-Energy Magic Building. But while he can talk, most people's brains can't handle the concept of a talking dog, so they simply imagine they're having an internal dialogue with their own conscience.
Gaspode is scruffy, offensive, and rapidly turns off everyone he comes into contact with. Which is a lot like the experience of watching Washington play football in 2026.
#11 Nebraska (5-3, 2-3): Carrot Ironfoundersson
Last Week: 6 High: 8 Low: 14 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
Carrot Ironfoundersson is a dwarf. He is a most unusual dwarf, in that he stands six feet, six inches tall (he's adopted). As a young man, he left his adoptive family's mines behind, and traveled to Ankh-Morpork, where he joined the City Watch. Carrot is honest, unfailingly polite, genuinely likeable, and bears a mysterious birthmark which leads many to believe that he is, in fact, the long-lost heir to the city's throne. While his mannerisms can lead people to see him as simple or slow, Carrot is in fact highly intelligent, and he is aware of the rumors about him, though he never openly acknowledges them. Being completely incorruptible, he has never been even remotely tempted to assert his claim to the throne.
Nebraska fans are renowned for being open and welcoming. Visitors from every Big Ten program have tales about how well they've been treated during visits to Lincoln, and our loyal Husker contingent are among the most outgoing and beloved members of the OTR community. Also like Carrot, Nebraska has steadfastly refused to lay claim to a title.
#12 Illinois (5-3, 3-2): Bergholt Stuttley Johnson (aka “Bloody Stupid Johnson”)
Last Week: 10 High: 7 Low: 15 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
"A broadly incompetent landscape gardener, but also considerably unskilled in the fields of civic statuary and large musical instruments…It would be wrong to call him completely unskilled, because some of the creations for which he’ll be remembered must surely have taken considerable skill. It was just not the right skill."
--Terry Pratchett and Stephen Briggs, Turtle Recall: The Discworld Companion
Bloody Stupid Johnson was a landscape architect blessed with great creative vision, but also cursed with an inability to do things like “writing down units of measurement” on his planning schematics. This resulted in him being responsible for the creation of such wonders as the maze on the grounds of the palace of the Patrician of the city of Ankh-Morpork (which is so small that visitors get lost looking for it), and the palace’s ornamental trout lake, which is hundreds of yards long, but just one inch wide. Curiously, his well-known foibles actually increased his popularity, with patrons possessed of more money than sense falling all over themselves to commission Johnson to undertake projects for them.
In a similar vein, prior to the beginning of the 2026 season, Bret Bielema appears to have lost his sense of proportion in terms of what is required to build a complete college football roster, choosing to construct a defensive line whose members are more accurately measured in ounces than in pounds.
#13 Michigan (5-3, 2-3): Mustrum Ridcully
Last Week: 12 High: 9 Low: 16 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
Mustrum Ridcully (D.Thau., D.M., D.S., D.Mn., D.G., D.D., D.C.L., D.M. Phil., D.M.S., D.C.M., D.W., B.El.L.) is the Archchancellor of Unseen University, an institution for magical instruction located in the great city of Ankh-Morpork (no, it's not Hogwarts, Pratchett was writing Discworld novels decades before the first anti-trans thought had percolated through J.K. Rowling's addled brain). Ridcully is not just a wizard, he is also an accomplished hunter. In Lords and Ladies, he is said to have done a great deal for endangered species--mostly keeping them rare. The position of Archchancellor is an extremely dangerous one, as aspiring rivals can hope to ascend to the office by disposing of the current title holder. But Ridcully has been proven to be quite impossible to kill. The Discworld Companion also notes that "he sees himself as quite outside the rules which he nevertheless imposes on everyone else." Ridcully is famously stubborn. Once he sets his mind upon a course of action, he refuses to change course, no matter how extensive the evidence that doing so would be a good idea.
All of that sure sounds like Michigan to me.
#14 Penn State (4-4, 1-4): Igors (and Scraps)
Last Week: 16 High: 13 Low: 17 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
There are several different Igors that appear in the Discworld novels. Confusingly, they are all named "Igor," and while they know the difference between one Igor and another (or, in the case of female Igors, "Igorina"), this distinction is not always obvious to non-Igors. They usually serve as assistants to powerful villains, but this is done more out of habit and commitment to the bit than because Igors themselves are evil. Igors are often heavily scarred, the result of operations that they have conducted upon themselves. They are master surgeons, capable of bringing individuals back from the brink of death--though if you've been saved by an Igor, it's probably not a good idea to ask questions beginning with words like "how?" In Carpe Jugulum, we're introduced to an Igor who has a pet dog named Scraps (which, since all Igors have severe lisps, he calls "Thcrapth"), Per the Discworld Companion, Scraps "has a spaniel's brain and is nine thirty-eights Rottweiler--two legs, one ear, lots of tubes, and his lower jaw...."
Igors look like they've been re-assembled from bits of many different people. Which, in most cases, they have been. Similarly, this year's Penn State squad features a roster that's been stitched together from a lot of different donors. Many things might be said about the resulting amalgamation, but it certainly hasn't been pretty thus far.
#15 Purdue (3-5, 2-3): Leonard of Quirm
Last Week: 14 High: 10 Low: 16 FPV: 0 LPV: 0
Leonard of Quirm is a painter and inventor, possessed of perhaps the finest brain in the entire Discworld. Clearly modeled on Leonardo da Vinci, Leonard of Quirm currently resides in the Patrician's Palace in Ankh-Morpork, where he is kept under a sort of house arrest by Lord Vetinari--for the protection of both Leonard and the city. Leonard is the sort of person who will, in a flight of fancy, produce highly-detailed schematics for the most horrific types of weapons, but won't feel bad about doing it because he is absolutely certain that his creations are so obviously horrific and terrible that no one would possibly use them. His genius with inventions is matched only by his naivete and stupidity when it comes to human nature.
Leonard of Quirm feels way too cool to associate with Purdue football. But he is an engineer at heart, and Purdue football, while generally quite benign, can occasionally rise up with nuclear force to devastate an unsuspecting foe (2018 flashbacks? Who, me?).
#16 Michigan State (2-6, 0-5): Swamp Dragons (draco vulgaris)
Last Week: 17 High: 11 Low: 18 FPV: 0 LPV: 3
Fantasy literature has abundant examples of great and powerful dragons. There's Smaug, from J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit. There are the many magnificent and highly intelligent creatures from Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series. There is Daenerys Targaryen's loyal and violent Dracarys from George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire novels, who, at the conclusion of the series....well, we'll never know.
Swamp dragons are not like that at all.
Swamp dragons are very small. If they reach adulthood (and the key word there is "if"), they can grow to perhaps a few feet in length, roughly equal to a medium-sized dog. But most of them don't last that long. Swamp dragons emerged in regions where food of any kind was extremely scarce. As an evolutionary response, they have developed the ability to consume nearly anything, by re-structuring their internal plumbing and body chemistry. However, a by-product of this constant rewiring of their digestive tracts is chemical reactions that, at best, leave the swamp dragon in a permanent state of gastrointestinal distress, and at worst cause them to detonate spectacularly, spreading their remains across the surrounding landscape.
Michigan State, famously, is prone to hilarious self-immolations that have given rise to the "Sparty, No!" meme. Also, this year, their players seem to spontaneously combust with an alarming frequency. I don't know if there's any association in the entire poll more apt than this one.
#17 Rutgers (2-6, 1-4): The Ambiguous Puzuma
Last Week: 15 High: 16 Low: 18 FPV: 0 LPV: 2
The Ambiguous Puzuma is (at least theoretically) a species of large cat native to the Discworld. They are fast--extremely fast. In fact, they are capable of achieving near-relativistic speed. The natural outgrowth of this ability ("natural" by Discworld logic, that is), is that if you can see one, it isn't there. In addition to their speed, they live exceedingly conflicted existences. Per the Discworld Companion, "[they] die of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, since it is impossible for them to know who they are and where they are at the same time, and the see-sawing loss of concentration this engenders means that the puzuma achieves a sense of identity only when it is at rest--usually about fifty feet into the rubble of the mountain that it it just ran into at near light-speed." Taxidermists working with puzuma remains have concluded that in its natural state, it is flat, very thin, and dead.
K.J. Duff is very fast, and is much better and far more loyal than the Scarlet Knights deserve. Outside of him, though, "flat, very thin, and dead" sounds like a pretty good description of Rutgers.
#18 Maryland (2-6, 0-5): Great A'Tuin, the World Turtle
Last Week: 18 High: 12 Low: 18 FPV: 0 LPV: 6
A'Tuin is the name of the great "world turtle," who carries the entire Discworld on its back as it swims serenely through the cosmos. While often referenced, A'Tuin is only very rarely seen in the novels. The inhabitants of the Discworld are, mostly, aware of A'Tuin's existence, but they devote little attention to it in their day-to-day lives. A'Tuin is simply present, thought of only occasionally and having almost no impact on the life of the average person.
Am I making this association just for the sake of a cheap turtle reference? Absolutely. But everything else about this description fits Maryland, too.
And there we go! Your brief tour of the Discworld is now complete. You should definitely read the books, though. Start with the "City Watch" series, but there's also good value in the Moist von Lipwig trilogy (Going Postal, Making Money, and Raising Steam). The first Discworld books (The Color of Magic, The Light Fantastic) are actually some of the weaker offerings, IMHO, but they're still worth going back to once you've read some of the later ones, if only to read about the exploits of Cohen the Barbarian.
How well do these associations work? What characters from the Discworld Universe were tragically omitted? What associations did I clearly screw up? Please share your thoughts in the comments.
Archiving This Year's Power Polls:
Transient Buckeye
Transient Buckeye
Transient Buckeye
Transient Buckeye
BoilerUp89
Transient Buckeye
Transient Buckeye
Transient Buckeye
Transient Buckeye
