Pooh-Bear, overcome with emotion. Or hunger. Wait, he’s gonna charge…
After much deliberation-and a few too many glasses of Merlot last night-we’ve finalized the 1st annual All Name Team, Offensive starters. (All twenty of our loyal readers just let loose a resounding “HUZZAH,” if only because they just postponed the delivery of their next TPS report.) Remember our precise methodology here:

1. If we could remember them off the top of our head, then they made the list.
2. It helps to be black or Polynesian.
3. It helps to play on a team that plays on tv from time to time.
4. If your name includes a homonym for anything remotely scatological or profane, you’re likely to be a first-teamer. Sadly, we couldn’t find an NCAA player with the name Dildeau Pupenshitz, but we can dream, can’t we?
5. It helps to play for FSU. Having a great name is a prerequisite for all players in Tallahassee.
So now, our esteemed first teamers on Offense:

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Apparently, while we were at a wedding this weekend-it was in Alabama, and yes, they had butter mints, mandatory at all Southern weddings-the NFL decided to hold the combines and pants-down embarrass Maurice Clarett. The conspiracy theorist in us wants to believe that this is yet another step in Tagliabue’s methodical plan to destroy Clarett for challenging the NFL’s policy on underclassmen, but unless Tags paid Bobby Brown to hang out with Clarett, we’re afraid we have very little ammo for our paranoia.

Clarett managed to finish the 40 somewhere between a 4.75 and a 4.9. My brother-in-law ran a 5.0 in high school while playing on the o-line. Not having seen the actual run, we wonder: did the sportswriters, perhaps stunned by gorging on the press room spread, omit a detail or two? Like Clarett running with a cigarette in his mouth? Or him running with a pocket full of change? Caesar’s Indiana isn’t that far down the road-maybe he hit the slots and drove straight to the RCA Dome.

Stranko Montana, our correspondent in Gainesville and our satellite offices in Yeehaw Junction, brings us his weekly confession o’ obsession.
This week’s case concerns recruiting, which is to college football what internet porn is to actual sex. A pale substitute for the real thing where no one ever peaks too early…

He writes, with requisite snark provided by the editor:

I say this with a mixture of pride and shame but…. I am a recruitnik. After the bowl season is over, I am so starved for the fix of following my alma mater that I get completely wrapped up in the soap opera we call recruiting. While I’m perusing the message boards for rumors I can’t get over the intrinsic absurdity of it all. Now that signing day has come and gone, I can step back and wonder how is it that grown men and women can get sucked in to this. I don’t really know these kids, whether they are leaders, a good fit for our program, or actually run a sub 4.2 40, but strangely I feel like I do. The questions are, is this healthy? Do I need to stop and get a life? Where do I, as a recruitnik, rank on the list of people who should need to find more productive hobbies, which include, in no certain order:
1. That guy who takes his softball league a little too seriously.
2. The 40+ year old at Gold’s gym who grunts loudly while lifting and flexes for the mirrors.
3. That 21 year old dork who goes to the high school party hoping the chicks think he’s cool because he’s in college (even if its junior college)(We were in a bad place, man. Don’t hate, create. Didn’t get us any, anyway…)
4. People who are still busting out their metal head gear for the Crue reunion tour… Rock on Vince Neil!
5. Anyone who takes a wine appreciation class.
6. The incredibly tan octagenarian who wears a banana hammock on the beach.We object. That is totally going to be us one day, and we’ll strut it like we’ve got it. You’re just envious of our coming freedom.
7. Men with really long hair.
8. The people who feel the need to make a witty remark in response to the on screen action at the movie theater. Yes Costanza, I’m talking about you (”Had to hurt!”)
9. People who actually subscribe to People, or US Weekly or any of those other rags that should only be purchased on impulse at the check out line.
10. Bloggers.

In the middle of what seems to be an otherwise sane column about the diminishing returns of being a total asshole-it’s about Bill Parcells, natch-we found an intriguing nugget of information that almost made us drop our drink. (Almost-whew.)

There have been some rumors that Jones is putting out feelers to people like former Browns coach and Dallas assistant Butch Davis and Arkansas coach Houston Nutt, anticipating the possibility of Parcells walking away after one more season.

Houston Nutt? Please let this be true, since Nutt would be the ideal candidate for the job for one excellent reason:
HE IS COMPLETELY FUCKING INSANE.

Watching how Arkansas wins games would be enough reason to think Nutt would be the perfect compliment to the natural insanity surrounding the Cowboys. They’ll somehow lose to LSU by two, get killed by an out of conference team the next week, and then turn around and run for 6,000 yards in a game against a damn good team like Texas. They blow easy plays and hit sixty yard flea-flickers. They commit some of the stupidest penalties ever-I swear I saw a db come on to the field with no pants once-and still win the game on a fluky blocked punt, missed PAT, or the Matt Jones special, the long bomb resulting in a quadruple overtime game they somehow end up losing anyway.

(This was the Matt Jones offense, by the way. Stewart Mandel cannily noted this first in a column a while back: run for nothing for three quarters, then let Matt Jones run around and make shit up for a quarter to make it interesting.See? Totally fucking insane, but works pretty well for the Falcons in the NFL, too.)

But just in case the Matt Jones offense and the “Toonces the Driving Cat” style of play don’t make my case, watch Nutt on the sidelines sometime. Nutt is one of college football’s last real sweaters. I mean horrible, anxious, smells-like-fear monkey sweating with huge ovals of perspiration circling both arms. Every game for him is an exercise in riverboat gambling, knee-deep and out of cash in a huge Faro game with the deed to the plantation on the table. Shockingly, most of the time he gets dealt a winning hand.

Nutt also believes in the lost art of gesticulation (see pic above for some of his primo work in the field.) Nutt flails, screams, tosses objects, and displays all of the classic tics of someone under bowel-bursting pressure who almost can’t handle it. He’s like an enormous spastic fetus wearing red, picking his nose, wiping his face every three seconds, and just an instant away from killing and eating one of his grad assistants on the sidelines in front of a horrified Frank Broyles Stadium crowd.

Though this might be contrary to his personal interests-the NFL might actually kill him, or an unfortunate assistant coach in the wrong place at the wrong time-we here at ESBS.com would love to see Nutt get a shot, if only to watch him attack Jerry Jones with a clipboard after another one point, 14-13ish loss.

After all, the man’s last name is Nutt.

Another high-scorer on our favorites list just earned himself another stripe in our ranking of favorite college athletes. First, his name is Jimtavis Walker, which as we discussed previously, fits all of the requirements for having a truly sensational college football name.

Second, an incident with a cabbie in Corvallis-they have cabs in Corvallis?-shoots Jimtavis into our upper echelon of all we love and respect about the college game. Gifted? I’ll let the evidence speak for itself:

“It was obvious they had been drinking, and they were quite unruly,” the driver said, adding that Walker threw a hamburger at him after the players left the cab. The driver said that after Walker berated him, Walker “lit up a joint.”
The driver said Paddock pushed him and slammed the door of the cab on his knee. He said he had a bruised right shoulder and a scar on his knee from the incident. He said the players also took his clipboard, which contained approximately $52 in charge slips from previous fares, plus his itinerary and other information.

At least he had the sense to take a cab. Beavers, drinking, heavy machinery…danger, people, danger.

We here at ESBS.com have our soft spots. We all do, really: my mom (trail mix,) Stranko (long foreign films,) Kim Jong-Il (nukes and cognac.) One of our favorite soft spots is for flamboyantly felonious athletes; not just those who break the law, but those who go above and beyond the call of duty and ensure themselves at least a five game suspension for atrocious behavior.

Which brings us to Taurean Charles, the redshirt junior linebacker from the University of Florida who got into a fist fight with another student at an off-campus party. Details vary from story to story, but here’s two you may want to tuck away for future use.

1. Taurean hit a guy on a deck, and the man ended up on the ground.

2. Taurean tossed a keg of beer at the man after punching him off a deck.

That’s finishing a fight Road House style. Read more about it here.

Doc Pedro brings us the news from the Big East, which is proudly keeping up that University of Miami attitude despite losing UM to the ACC. Smartass comments by editor to follow in slanty letters.
Breaking news out of an upcoming school in the Big East conference.

University of South Florida recruit Carlton Hill out of Monticello Jefferson County High was suspended indefinitely from school Wednesday for being caught ?with his pants down? having sex in a classroom during regular school hours. Hill who is considered the ?crown jewel” of South Florida’s recruiting class, was found having consensual sex with a 16 year old; Hill is 19 years old. Though consensual this still considered statutory rape, though no charges have been filed. Hill will be suspended until a full investigation has taken place. This could lead to him not being eligible to fulfill all graduation requirements and enrolling in school in the Fall.

This is reminiscent of Marcus Vick, caught ?partying? with a 14 year old and 15 year old. Vick at the time was already attending Virginia Tech. Which begs the question: couldn?t he find a college girl? In Hill?s case he is still in High School and the ramifications of the incident are still unknown. My question is what kind of girl has sex in a classroom? (We don’t name names. But if Angela Bassett is willing, we’d be there.-ed.)

The other question is if you were in school and both of legal age would you take that opportunity for a little risky thrill? Yes yes yes. Especially if Angela was wearing the limo driver’s outfit from Strange Days.-ed.

Jefferson County assistant principal Harry Jacobs, who was not reached for comment, told The Tampa Tribune last month that Hill was a model student.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Jacobs said. “Everything he does, he does 100 percent. He’s a perfectionist. He’s a hard-working student.”

I am sure the female involved in the incident was happy about this.

Good work, Doc Pedro. In our conversation with Principal Jacobs, he further elaborated: “I’m sure Carlton performed any and all demanded services with athleticism and dedication. I’ll bet he did it like this. Then he probably did it like that. He may even have done it with a wiffle ball bat, if she requested, as long as they cleaned and returned the equipment to the PE office by three.”-ed.

You could always be watching NASCAR, which is a great way to pass the offseason provided Darrell Waltrip is calling the race on Fox and you’ve had one or nine beers or so.

In case you don’t believe us, check out NASCAR’s greatest feuds here. My teasers for the link?
1. Two names: Buckshot Jones and Tiny Lund
2. This quote: “He went to beating on my fist with his nose. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

If that ain’t country you can kiss my ass.

Apprently Urban Meyer has identified the missing ingredient in UF’s football program: boulder lifting. No word on whether Magnus Ver Magnusson has been called in as the new stength and conditioning coach, or whether next year’s spring practices will be held in beautiful Mauritius, historic Malta, or in exotic Bali.

UF conditioning consultant Magnus Ver Magunsson: too cheap to call AAA?

In case you really wanted to burn some time on Friday-and why would a productive person such as yourself want to do such a thing-Sports by Brooks is there to help with a list of the best “homer” calls ever. They’ve got what may be my favorite call ever, Larry Munson’s infamous “hobnail boot” closer.
Hey, and they hate Lee Corso, too. Always a sign of an estimable intellect.

Our Gainesville correspondent, Stranko Montana, writes in with his submission on the superiority of Saturdays. I had to post it for the Don Francisco reference alone:

Much as the cast of Seinfeld pointed out a decade ago, everyday has a feel… although I think there may have been some disagreement over whether Tuesday had a feel or not. (more…)

Tommy Tuberville loves him some Kroger-the perpetually dirty, poorly lit grocery store we in the SE have come to know and tolerate ’til other, better grocery stores move in. Specifically, Tuberville loved Kroger to the tune of a hundred grand a year, which is a lot of crappy frozen pizzas and Big K cola to take home in rural, cheap Auburn, Alabama.

Tommy’s not alone. Phil Fulmer used to do this hilarious commercial for Volunteer State Bank where he just walked around an empty field while he intoned Neyland’s commandments in a tacky voiceover. The effect was supposed to be monumental-like when James Earl Jones screams “NO!” in slow motion in Best of the Best, when Tommy is about to kill the guy who killed his brother-but didn’t quite work. The voice echoed just a little too much, like the guy on your local Clear Channel classic rock station or a tractor pull announcer. You know, the SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY voice (heretofore referred in this column as the “Tampa Bay Voiceover.”) Phil just waddled dejectedly off the frame at the end of what could have been a really subversive UT student’s video art project.

The best were Steve Spurrier’s, which were done with all of the enthusiasm of a death row inmate. When he said Bryan Hot Dogs were “the flavor of the
South,” it sounded like he meant slavery, malaria, and hot asphalt, not belles and bourbon.

(Can you name a more successful, more joyless man than Steve Spurrier? Besides David Letterman? Can’t you see both punching out their own reflections in the mirror in a drunken late-night haze? Just asking.)

The point being: help the crack editorial staff at EDSBS.com come up with a few more local coach commercials of infamous note. As a reward, we’ll give you all the mad credit that fifty visitors a day can give you.

We hear a lot about Notre Dame’s Ivy League status as an institute of higher learning. From personal experience, I think I was smarter than the only person I knew he went there. even though she could lift her leg over her head while standing, a talent that should not be overlooked at any age. This is especially true if you’re in high school, and you’re a guy looking at aforementioned flexible girl.

Yet this tidbit from Weis’ six a.m. meet-and-greet with obviously desperate, undersexed football fans makes us wonder about that whole “whoa, skool heer is so harrrdd” thing.

Weis spent 40 minutes telling students what he expects of them - cheer loud when the Irish play defense and tone it down when they play offense.

Sound smart to you? Let us know if they put corks on the tines of the forks in the student cafeteria, and maybe we’ll get ourselves a good conspiracy theory goin’ here. Someone call Dan Brown! The Pope had Willingham fired ’cause he knew too much about the secret underground labs at Notre Dame! Hrmmpphh…(sounds of struggle…)

Notre Dame fans: smart? And voluntarily living in Indiana? Or secretly part of a Vatican clone army? Hmm…

Panic on the streets of London…panic of the streets of Birmingham…it’s time to think about the Sun Belt, at least according to Pete Fiutak, who has one of our favorite names in the sportswriting world.

We also give you the link because we know how Pete’s day must have been. relaxing drive into work in light traffic, very little static from the old lady, a nice mellow piece of agreeable white music on the stereo (I’m betting Pete Fiutak is a Maroon 5 guy. That’s just my opinion.) Pete was thinking it would be a pretty good day, all in all.

Then he walked into his office, checked his email, and he found out he had to write a whole article on the Sun Belt conference. I imagine Pete’s latte went sour right there and then.

But hey, Pete suffers so that we all may learn. For example, did you know that the University of North Texas has a football team? Did you know their nickname is “Mean Green”? Did you know I hung 91 points on them once in a game of NCAA 2004 with the MTSU Blue Raiders? Did you know that I’m, yes again, still married to the woman who knows I spent 45 minutes doing this?

A website needs columns, right? Here we believe in competition. Here’s Doctor Pedro, our first audition for weekly columnist. He typed it from an airport in Minneapolis, and it’s my guess that he’s mainlining some of Seattle’s Best as he writes. Let us know what you think and we’ll have him installed as a regular or destroyed by our legion of four armed assasin robots.

The Everyday Life: Love and Sports
by: Pedro ?El doctor del Amor?

The Everyday Life:
Peace of mind?can you really find it in a white gum ball machine at the Mall. Eat Flies, Date Pigs, Live your dreams pass it on. What kind of slogan is this? (more…)