5:07: The shortest liveblog in the history of the internet. Staring at the Tebow kommisariat: Mom, Dad, brother, all lined up behind a table draped with a Nease High School banner. Bet it smells like floor wax and sweat in there.

5:09: Lotsa sitting still. Tebow grinning like a mannequin. Waiting for the Worldwide Leader here?

5:11: Answering inaudible questions being posed off-camera. Put on a damn hat and get this show on the road!

5:12: Tebow clearly petrified, swallowing nervously like a man in front of a firing squad. We remember when we made our decision to attend college: witnesses, one redbone hound and Mom.

5:14: Okay, pap interview going on. Lotsa yessirs going on here. Tebow will have to get a new hairstyle at either university: they do the qb shag at ‘Bama, while UF will metro him up a bit.

5:15: “I will be playing football next year at the University of Florida.” A Beatles-loud cheer detonates in the auditorium.

5:21: Blahbeddy blah. Reads a statement that makes it sound like Bama was this close but couldn’t take his whole family on board. Reminds us that besides the bowls, this is all the football poonanny you’re getting for seven and a half months: high schoolers putting on hats and getting Tom Lemming all hot and bothered.

School: University of Texas. Don’t mess with them.

Ad title:: “What Starts Here Changes The World.” (Click on any of them.)

EDSBS title:: “Texas: We’ve Still Got That Bigass Tower Where the Crazy Sniper Was.”

Setup: Actually a series of ads all based on the same model: schwoopy helicopter shots of Austin from the air, done Steadicam style for an even glide through the landscape. It’s like being God or a confident William Katt buzzing the capital city of Texas; or maybe it’s exactly what someone sees after downing their eighteenth Jaeger shot of the night after finals and passing out on their lawn. The landscapes include a time-lapse overview of Austin at night, but also a scary, post-apocalyptic hazy shot of the Austin skyline. (U of Texas: the school for Road Warrior fetishists!) The imagery drifts by while Walter Cronkite, Texas alum, reads vague, visionary stuff over the low-end synth track that was probably playing during your last professional massage or sexual encounter with a Wiccan.

If you hosted a meeting of the minds—a place where the right-brained dreamers inspired the left-brained doers—where would you gather? We’re Texas. What starts here…changes the world.

If Walt had asked us to come to Texas, you’d probably be reading a Longhorns blog right now.

Each commercial finishes with the same finishing shot of the University of Texas Tower and the Texas logo on a burnt orange background.

Subtext: Umm…Texas: we’re big. And floaty and vague. But kind of cool, too, and not hung up that our symbol, the Texas Tower, still makes everyone think of Charles Whitman. Actually, the ad is yet another step in UT’s attempts to exorcise the demons of the Whitman incident from the tower, which began with its reopening to the public in the late ’90s. We wish them luck in their continuing efforts, since the first two things we thought when we saw the commercial were:

a.) Holy shit Walter Cronkite!

And:

b.) Holy shit that’s where that crazy guy shot everyone from!

Production values:
High: not only do you get film stock and expensive aerial shots of the campus, but you get Walter Cronkite, the man who taught us how to speak English. Texas sets a new high in terms of willingness to go for the fancy ketchup when it comes to production values.

Hits: Besides the production values? A nearly complete lack of cliche. Not a microscope shot to be found in the whole commercial. A bonanza for the “branding” crowd, since the ads focus more on the Texas mystique than, say, showing off their epic map collection or new physics lab. A good example of the “Poof! Come to (insert school name here) because we’re special” ad that you either buy from the get go or drop on first sight. Did we mention lush production values?

Misses: The Tower. We know, it’s the symbol of the university, it’s the brand…but we still can’t think it without picturing a crazed ex-Marine with a high-powered rifle sitting up there. Coming from a university with a lesser but no less terrifying heritage of random crime–Danny Rolling–we can sympathize. It’s hard to shake something like that once it’s happened, which explains a lot about why UF freshman girls often arrive in Gainesville with Rottweilers, pepper spray, and a new handgun happily purchased for them by their parents. (No lie–sitting in class once, a fellow student not only owned up to carrying a gun with her, but volunteered to show everyone her piece right there in class. The prof quickly put a kibosh to this before any other university codes were broken and begged her to keep her gun in her purse, even if she had a concealed weapons permit for it.)

(Bonus creepy story: we knew someone who rented a Gatorwood apartment where two of Rolling’s victims were killed. Unbelieveably, they got zero break in the rent. Bummer.)

The Enya-ish stuff in the background of concept ads always irks us, too, but count it as a matter of minor annoyance. What else are they going to play, “Whiskey River?” Plus we’re thinking about the two hot Wiccans we know just hearing it…on second thought, the music’s not so bad at all. But deduct points for being too mysterian about the whole affair: some ads are Stone Cold Steve Austin, telling you exactly how far up your ass his black leather boot is going to go. This one’s more of a Papa Shango, holding up a totem in a smoky room while muttering a spell in your general direction.

Summary grade: B A high-class ad that goes a bit too far into the atmospheric. Next time use a little less Papa Shango and a little more Stone Cold, and we’ll be talking about a veritable submisssion hold of a university ad.

Texas’ ad needs less Papa Shango to it.

Following Arkansas’ bold lead in shuffling its coaching staff that we reported on last week, Urban Meyer is taking a hard look at the Gator’s program top to bottom and there are some changes being rumored to be in the works. When asked directly about this, Meyer was elusive to our EDSBS Gainesville Correspondent, stating “We haven’t made any changes to our staff, but as you know, the SEC is a competitive conference so you always have to stay on your toes.”

Unsatisfied with the wishy-washy reponse, our crack correspondent dug deeper to find that Craig Howard, coach of the 4A State Championship Nease program is rumored to be in the running for assistant head coach. Howard is the current coach of Tim Tebow, a great quarterback prospect who, rumor has it, possesses super powers stolen away from the great Chuck Norris. A program insider stated on a condition on anonymity “this has absolutely nothing to do with his relationship to Tebow, but did you know he’s between Florida and Alabama?”

The word is that Tim Tebow doesn’t read playbooks. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.

To assuage growing concern that Meyer is unable to develop young quarterbacks, he has turned to a newcomer to the coaching ranks, Patricia Portis, who is rumored to be in as the new quarterbacks coach. She’s known for public espousing that all young quarterbacks need a real opportunity to earn the starting role from day 1. For the position of recruiting coordinator, the word on the street is that it will be filled ably by the pride of Five Points, Ki Toy Johnson, whose connections in the State of Georgia and “juicy booty” should be invaluable in the recruiting process. She came highly recommended by ex-Buffalo coach Barnett.

Moving on with our reviews of the bowl season, we get to what many couch-bound connoiseurs consider THE prototypical early bowl season evening burner: the GMAC Bowl, a MAC/WAC connection usually resulting in geysers of points spread out over nearly five glorious hours of poor tackling. The MAC traditionally pwnz this game, having never lost in the six year history of the bowl, but Coach Mike Price brings a high-powered UTEP offense in with the added motivation of not only winning the first WAC GMAC title, but also the goal of loosening up Mike Price’s leash a few notches with a win, thus freeing him up to toss some dollars around in Mobile’s finest shoe modeling parlors with abandon.

Yes, it’s a cheap joke, but it’s us. With that…enjoy.

Name: The GMAC Bowl.

Motto: “Battle in Bama!” Less a motto, really, than a command.

Intrusive Corporate Sponsor: Umm…GMAC? Unfortunately, Hoar Construction only gets second billing on their site, since the “Hoar Bowl” would instantly rocket to the top of the bowl game marquee in our estimates. A merger with Atlanta-based Gay Construction would be even sweeter.

Tradition rating: Puts some smoke on the n00b New Orleans bowl, having been in operation since 1999, which was coincidentally the year of “Livin’ La Vida Loca.” Therefore we give the GMAC bowl a tradition rating of: Ricky Martin.

GMAC Tradition Rating: post-Menudo Ricky Martin.

Setup: WACC-USA vs. MAC

Location. Mobile, Alabama, the “South’s Easy Vacation Port.” The slogan of the city may be designed to invoke slow times and an easygoing attitude, but after driving through the place a few times, we’re thinking less of mint juleps and relaxing on the beach and more of easily bribed customs officials and cargo containers filled with Nicaraguan contraband.
The website’s bizarre boilerplate doesn’t help in clarifying exactly what Mobile’s all about:

Mobile Bay is alive! It kicks, dances, shakes, laughs, respects its history and then takes you in its arms and lulls you to sleep with the breath of a gentle gulf breeze.

So Mobile is…like spending a drunken evening with a manic depressive, violent, seizing, and hopelessly affectionate Daughter of the American Revolution? Sounds boffo to us. Combine that with the “tallest lemon meringue” on the coconut cream pie at Tiny Diny, and we’re sold, if only for twenty-four hours. Continuing our thoughts from yesterday, though, Mobile does share something in common with the other Katrina Belt bowls: easy access to kickass airboating, a must for the EDSBS staff.

Mobile: they’ve got meringue.

Matchup quality: Going with the boxing metaphor…if the Rose Bowl is Ali-Frazier, then UTEP–Toledo will be one of those Friday Night ESPN2 bouts between two no-name Latino flyweights who will, for sixty minutes, throw more bricks around than a three-day long Korean student riot in the process of beating each other retarded. The over-under for the game should be done in scientific notation.

What to watch for: Points points points. Toledo has one of the most baffling offenses you’ll ever see, a seemingly conservative attack that still manages to amass large digits on the scoreboard. 35 points can’t really sneak up on you, can they? In Toledo’s case, they usually do. The team is no stranger to pissing contests either, facing Bowling Green once and often twice in a year in some classic MAC sprints. UTEP’s got Mike Price calling plays and Carson Palmer’s little brother fresh off shredding the WACC-USA (see? that’s why we don’t get paid to do this, among other reasons.) A five hour game could be in the works, with defensive coaches weeping openly on the sidelines and committing ritual hara-kiri sometime between the third and fourth quarters.

You can also expect the fun of watching the crew grope for material, since they will run out of things to say somewhere around the three hour mark. Expect heavy lifting to be done with the following phrases and shots:

–Oooh, look! Another shot of the U.S.S. Alabama sitting in the harbor.
–”This is what makes this offense so potent.”
–”This city has really done a nice job with hosting this bowl game.”
–Shots of exhausted kid falling asleep in stands.
–The three fans for each team dedicated enough to not only make the trip but apply body paint for the game, shown up close to conceal rows of empty seats behind them.

Dan Reeves has been hired by the Texans as a consultant for the next six weeks. To this uneducated blogger it certainly seems more likely now that Reeves or one of his proteges (Wade Philips for example) will have an inside track to the soon to be vacant coaching position and less likely that a coaching/GM package a la Jimmy Johnson or Mike Holmgren is possible for Pete Carroll. One less vacancy to be worried about. Now just keep your fingers crossed that there isn’t much more noise about the Saints moving to So Cal in the near future.

Reeves seen here rubbing his hands together to try to alleviate the numbness and tingling radiating down his left arm.

Oregon Ducks fans get vengeance on SMU coach Phil Bennett the new-school way: email.

After seeing that Bennett voted the Ducks 15th in his final coaches poll ballot, some mischievous Ducks fans not only sent him nasty e-mails, they also signed him up on a multitude of unwanted subscription e-mail lists. “From porn to feminists,” the Mustangs coach told Dallas radio station The Ticket last week.

Ooh! Sounds like what our inbox looks like anyway, Phil–especially the feminist porn bit. He should be grateful that he didn’t misrank, say, the West Virginia Mountaineers. Spam just wears out your index finger; burned couches, however, are a real bitch to clean up.

Spam, West Virginia style.

The Tempe Chamber of Commerce couldn’t be any happier with its Fiesta Bowl line up. Notre Dame, which is allotted 15,000 tickets (2,500 of which go to students) has received 45,589 ticket requests for the Fiesta Bowl. Sounds like a scalpers delight.

If you want to see Orson dressed like this, help Blue-Gray Sky edge out the Athletics Nation. Vote Here.

What’s more disturbing than obese 45-50 year old men talking about how hot Hillary Duff is on your local sports station? How about those same men discussing an 18 year-old football recruit in nearly the same terms? Further proof that recruiting in college sports is mega-creepy via We Are The Boys from the Palm Beach Post.

Tebow’s rocket arm and quick feet have caused young men, like Dunlap, to ignore the elements and grown men, like Meyer, to behave like a lovesick teenager, sending notes and calling whenever he can.

Very Death in Venice of them. Another quote got the Gator Country Farkatorium up and running early:

Tebow’s father, Bob, a UF alum: “I have to set aside how I might feel. We’re just trying to find God’s will in the whole process.”

Which Gator Farkers were more than happy to illustrate for Mr. Tebow:

Yes, that’s President Machen and Jeremy Foley behind Yahweh, there. Fine work, NoleMan