A fantastic run-on and a worrisome phrase

The Internet probably hates Grantland because the Internet hates just about anything. Particularly anything attempting something vaguely high-minded.

Personally, I find Grantland to be one of my go-to leisure reading sites, whether I'm hanging out with nothing to do or on the John. Sorry if I lose hipster points, then.

(Self-defeating aside: I do call it Horace Grantland from time-to-time, if that helps.)

By sheer chronological luck, I've decided to single out Jordan Conn's piece on Bret Bielema (whose name almost seems like it's begging to be Dan Bylsma).

Overall, it's a great read - overcoming the fact that my interest in college football comes in at about a 4 out of 10 - but it contains one especially thrilling and fantastic run-on sentence a few graphs after an enraging phrase.

First, let's start with the phrase that drives me a little bonkers:

And now here we are, with the SEC more than halfway to a decade's worth of consecutive national titles,

(my emphasis added)

Look, I'm all for flowery language. It would be hypocritical for me to say that you shouldn't write or say things in an artsier and less efficient way.

On the other hand, as someone who merely views the SEC's rampage as a blur of Nick Saban's banality, I actually don't know if Conn means five or six years when he writes "more than halfway to a decade." I'm guessing six, but maybe it's five titles but the fifth one happened months ago so inawayit'smorethanhalfwayto10?

I don't know, because it's confusing.

Apologies if it seems like I'm picking on Conn, but it's really because the rest of the article is so damned captivating. This delicious run-on practically gave me, well, a different kind of -on.

It's a staggeringly efficient orchestration. There are men hitting each other, yes, but then there are men holding cards that instruct them how to hit each other, standing next to men holding clipboards to chart how well they hit each other, standing next to men who give them water to fuel their hitting of each other, standing next to men who yell for them to hit each other harder.

No, Mr. Conn, that run-on sentence was a staggeringly efficient orchestration. Bravo.

But, seriously, is it five or six years? I'm guessing it isn't seven ...