CONFIDENCE IS IMPORTANT AND A VITAMIN OF GREAT IMPORTANCE
by Spencer Hall on Feb 8, 2010 6:10 PM EST
5 comments
Les Miles missed on a recruit he should have nabbed, if confidence and horse-sized balls are still the hallmark of the Miles School of Testicular Thinking. Recruit Lynden Trail of Florida, put 'em on the table son and tell us what you think of Florida's recruiting class this year and their expectations.
I know we’ll bring at least 2-3 national championships," Trail said.
There's no job too immense when you've got...CONNNNFIDENCE. God bless 18 year olds. We used to have that kind of gusto. For instance, when we left high school we swore we'd win Florida at least five Quiz Bowl Championships. That was before we started staying up all night playing Sim City and drinking Banana Red Mad Dog 20/20, which is even more cracked than Blue Raspberry because there are at least blue berries in this world, and nothing close to a red banana. Unless you're counting those tiny red plaintains, and you know for damn sure the Red Bull marketing staff didn't know they existed. After the Mad Dog came the nitrous, and then Mario Kart, and then the profligate lost years abroad and waiting tables....
...and fifteen years later WHAMMO you're sitting on your couch writing about high schoolers' casual remarks for a living. So to review: drink Mad Dog, play computer games, and eventually work from home while wearing the same pants for three days straight. How this was supposed to be a cautionary tale is lost to us. Carry on.
(That is from Clambake, Conan O'Brien's favorite Elvis movie and our favorite, as well. At the 3:00 mark everyone drops powerful LSD. At one point Elvis sees imaginary cowboys and indians fighting in stock footage. It is either the best meta-commentary on Elvis in decline made by Clambake's director, or it is the worst musical number ever made. There is also a song about working on a boat. It's total shit and you should watch it now.)
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OH YES HE DID
Bacarri Rambo and Da'Rick Rogers engage in that nastiest of all scuffles, a Facebook feud. Bacarri is clearly ahead here, because he is not only named "Bacarri" but also "Rambo," and thus an intoxicatingly violent man you do not want do tangle with.
YOU PROBABLY DON'T WANT TO BE THE NUMBER ONE RECRUIT IN THE COUNTRY
by Spencer Hall on Feb 8, 2010 1:56 PM EST
27 comments
Seantrel Henderson, currently waiting out the NCAA'S verdict on USC's impending non-punishment from the NCAA, has a father who makes us feel much better about our prospects as a parent. For instance, our rap career is already solidified as among the internet's finest hypothetical sports-related rap careers, and like Jay-Z sitting atop his pile of money we feel no need to attempt to best our rivals in this department. (We were going to 9/11 'em, but they did it to themselves.)
Sean Henderson, however, is attempting to build a rap career while helping his son pick the next step in his career, meaning going to USC was way, way more appealing to Seantrel's closest advisor than going to Ohio State, Minnesota, or Florida, since none of the three are known for their burgeoning rap scenes. We say this will all due respect to the Sleepy Rappers, who were more representative of a single comet-like flare of genius than the payoff from years of scene-building manifesting itself in the form of single act.
I know, it sucks, but complain to other one-shot geniuses like Three Doors Down, Snow, and Evanescence and see how much sympathy you get. It's a big club. It would help Sean Henderson to note that if he plans on making friends in the music industry, he might not want to talk shit about them in public unless he plans on starting a beef, since he's already trashed Jim Tressel as being "boring" in public despite the fact that the man was kind enough to visit, offer a scholarship, and even take his shoes off in our house, sir.
Mark our words: JT Smoove don't take this kind of disrespect lyin' down. That's your momma's job, and Jim done finished that about twice last night before letting the rest of the train take over. (Krenzel up in that, oh best belee K-Renz up in that like a quarterback draw.) When you diss Tress you diss yourself, and you'll be screaming for mercy by the time he sends Black Jim Tressel to show you some style by putting his priceless Italian loafers up that ass.
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FSU VACATES WINS, PUNISHES NOTHING AND NO ONE
by Spencer Hall on Feb 8, 2010 12:09 PM EST
7 comments
Tomahawk Nation touches on the most damning part of the Florida State Seminoles' attempt to fight the vacation of wins due to academic finagling in a music appreciation class taken by scores of athletes on multiple varsity sports teams: Florida State was given the option of vacating those wins in a wrist-slappy move, denied the generous offer, spent over six figures defending the case, and still lost anyway and had to vacate the wins. When the NCAA admits that they're toothless but insists on gumming you anyway, take the gumming. Insanity Wolf has no idea what you were thinking.
So yes, HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH FLOLrida State. It should also be mentioned that vacating the wins does nothing in the football sense but hurt Bobby Bowden's career win total, who as much as we would love to blame for this was so out of it and distanced from the program at this point that casting shame on him for this would be an act of pure, irrational spite against all logic and reason. Looking at the site's prime directives...yes, the official EDSBS stance on this is that it was all Bobby Bowden's fault, and he deserves all the blame.
On a larger note, the NCAA's reason for existing becomes even more nebulous. As far as we know, the NCAA hands out large sanctions to tiny programs committing infractions defined by charter rules, collects large dollars for running a huge basketball tournament, and keeps a pretty handy stats page for NCAA football. Much as we'd like to pay an organization hundreds of millions of dollars a year to do this, there are probably more efficient ways to do this, much less ones that involve an organization with actual powers of sanction.
(Then again: if the NCAA merely represents the will of its members to regulate themselves, then there is zero will to regulate programs who commit violations.)
At this point, though, Florida State doesn't seem to care about the vacations. or about the permanent vacation Bowden has taken.
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THE CURIOUS INDEX, 2/8/2010
by Spencer Hall on Feb 8, 2010 10:19 AM EST
17 comments
Congratulations to New Orleans Saint Bobby McCray, who has one more Super Bowl ring than Chris Rix this morning and many more NFL paychecks after last night's Super Bowl. To ride the full circuit of Super Bowl narrative self-correction: blissful at the idea of NOLA winning, realization that it is not your team and that the New Orleans redemption storyline is crap, but that it's a very good thing anyway, and yeah go ahead and be happy since no other single place has such a firm grasp on the emotional shorthairs than New Orleans--not even home, really. Ignatius Reilly would not understand any of this, but he would have a beer with his mother in the midst of the revelry and note its similarity to early Christian festivals in medieval Europe, and ask the gentleman behind him to refrain from spilling his beverage on his overcoat.
Our favorite part was the part where Tim Tebow walked out in his underwear, punched a panda, and then told him Mom women were to blame for all his problems. The Tebow commercial had so many highlights that it's hard to pick one: maybe the part with all the white background, or the part with the hug, or the...wait. That was the entire commercial, and was no big deal since it was just a simple Trojan Horse pointing you to the internet, which you're on anyway. We can now return to the important things like calling his throwing motion a frittata, suggesting he believes Jesus rode dinosaurs, and saying that we love him despite all these things because a.) he was awesome at Florida, and b.) we like college quarterbacks to win games for our college football team, and really could care less about how their future endeavors impact the past glories of our football team because they don't.
Yeah, he mad. The best things we've seen glorying in Manningface this morning. Not that it's an unusual thing, really.
The caption on that is the best: "Peyton Manning completes a beautiful 88 yard TD pass to Tony George." Every week is Hate Week when you're a college football fan, sirs and madams, and lack of exercise makes the muscles of the spite chain atrophy. Exercise them regularly for best results.
Corey Lemonier is quite the pirate. Yarr! Avast ye, piratical Auburn signee!
Corey Lemonier should probably think a bit more about the kinds of pictures he puts on Facebook, even if he doesn't own all those guns and has a legal right to own them. However, if he is going to get into trouble with one in the future, please let it be with the flintlock pistol, or better yet an unseen blunderbuss with a foot-wide powder pan that fires a hunk of old ballast crammed into its barrel. It would make Mike Leach so very happy that way.
Our defensive staff could be more naked and hung than it was previously. If the departure of Charlie Strong and his boundless masculinity troubles Florida fans, rest assured that the potential hiring of former Notre Dame assistant Corwin Brown as the new defensive coordinator would improve the "dudes who'll strut it naked and proud" quotient of our coaching staff by a furlong or two. Dan McCarney already does this all the time, too, but he clearly needs company.
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ESPN's Doug Gottlieb mentions "Every Day Should Be Saturday".
2 days ago
Twins Territory
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THE DIGITAL VIKING: EDSBS'S GUIDE TO SPICY LIVING
by Holly Anderson on Feb 5, 2010 5:22 PM EST
53 comments
It's a long offseason. The Digital Viking: The EDSBS Guide To Spicy Living is our antidote to long weekends without sweet, sweet football. The five categories are Drink, Comestibles (snack), Combustible (shit what blows up), Transit (gettin' by) and Canon (essential cultural inputs), watched over by a patron saint invoked for inspiration. Enjoy?
PATRON SAINT:
via theselvedgeyard.files.wordpress.com
From the epic tales of Andre's booze consumption:
On one tour, Andre’s Japanese sponsors rewarded him with a case of expensive plum wine. Andre settled down in the back of the bus and started drinking. Four hours later, the bus arrived at the next venue, and Andre was polishing off the last bottle of wine.
Sixteen bottles of wine in four hours is a considerable feat, but it gets better. Andre proceeded straight to the ring and wrestled three matches, including a twenty-man battle royal. The 16 bottles of plum wine had no discernible effect on Andre’s in-ring ability. By the end of the evening, Andre had sweated off the wine and found himself growing cranky. He dispatched Hogan for a few cases of beer...
When the bartender hollered last call, Andre, slightly annoyed, announced that he didn’t care to leave. Rather than risk an altercation with his hulking customer, the bartender told Andre he could stay only if he was drinking, imagining, surely, that he would soon be rid of the big fella. Andre thanked the man, and proceeded to order 40 vodka tonics. He sat there drinking them, one after another, finishing the last at just after five in the morning....
...The shooting schedule required Andre to be in England for about a month. When his part wrapped, Andre checked out of his suite at the Hyatt in London and flew back to his ranch in North Carolina. His bar bill for the month-long stay?
Just a shade over $40,000.
Rest in peace, Giant Booze Angel who was too large to properly be called a "barfly." We dub thee "bar-pterodactyl," and remind readers that while he is extinct, his memory of lusty nightlife lives on in our hearts and livers.
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U ARE ALL PREGNANT.
by Holly Anderson on Feb 5, 2010 2:25 PM EST
37 comments
Photo courtesty Steven Stuts of The Miami Hurricane
Anybody know where to get pastel balloons reading, "IT'S A TWO-HEADED JACKAL BABY"? Because I'm pretty sure that's where this is headed.
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