Open letter to Jeremy Foley:

Just wanted to let you know that Notre Dame has an open date in 2009. Big, ol’ open date with noooooothin’ at all scheduled. They’re also going on walkabout for a spell, too, scheduling open dates all over the country…including Jacksonville and Orlando. Which are located in Florida. Which is where your university and posh office sit…on piles and piles of money.

You’ve got your 2009 schedule up already, and we know, we know: you don’t want to lose a home game, even if it’s a precious, exciting kitten-kicker like Florida International on November 21st, or–ooh!–the ever-crucial September 12th ritual sodomy of Troy in Gainesville. Yet imagine a matchup with Notre Dame n Florida: new school v. old school, Sun Belt versus Rust belt, Everclear ‘n Tonic versus lukewarm Old Style…and more media coverage than you can wag your willy at, Jeremy.

Just a crazy thought we had about making your case for a national title in a bowl system without leaving room for debate or doubt. Can’t wait to watch that FIU game, though. Hear the band is a- thooompin’.

Yours, Orson.

Never mind us, we’re over here selling crazy all day.

Logan Young, longtime Alabama football booster and the man at the center of the Albert Means recruiting scandal, was found dead at a Chickasaw Gardens home Tuesday morning. Very few details as of yet, but homicide detectives were present on the scene.

Let’s hope this is something simple, since a year of relative normality is something Alabama hasn’t had for decades. (HT: NewAZ Tiger.)

Update: rumors a-flyin’.

Chas must have read our mind, since we were mulling over the candidates for the 2006 All Name Team in College Football when he sent us the latest and greatest name we’ve heard in a while. (In case you weren’t aware of this, college football has more interesting, improbable monikers per square foot than any sport on the planet. Not even New Zealand rugby approximates the degree of exoticism of college football names. Three words: Jim Bob Cooter. QEDMF.)

The new leader for the qb spot: Rutgers’s Jabu Lovelace, who must have stolen his name from the first draft 0f Oliver Stone’s Any Given Sunday script or from the rolls of herpes test pseudonyms. What’s even better is Jabu’s ‘tude and quote from practice:

But in a blink of the eye, Lovelace avoided the tackle, stutter-stepping and juking the safety out of his cleats as he sprinted toward the end zone.

“I just pulled something out of my bag of tricks,” he said.

Rutgers, not starting this man at qb is a crime against football humanity. You want Jabu. You need Jabu. Jabu will hold you, caress you, and freak you nasty like no other, Rutgers fans, since in the future there will be no “love”–only Jabu. Jabu will bring you salmon croquettes and Perrier Jouet in bed every day for the rest of your life, Rutgers. Just let him ball like only Jabu can.

Jabu, y’all. Jabu.

You have just been freaked by Jabu Lovelace, and you liked it.

Laura Quinn will now be projected to go in the first round of the NFL draft, according to draft expert Mel Kiper following the announcement of her engagement to former Buckeyes linebacker and draft prospect A.J. Hawk.

“She’s got exceptional size, the large features you need for prominent and repeated closeups on television, and the name recognition that comes with an association with one of America’s biggest fanbases. She’s a blue-chipper from day one if you ask me,” said Kiper from his offices in Bristol, Connecticut on Monday. “She’ll be the most visible spouse of an NFL player since Brenda Warner.”

NFL Draft gold: Laura Quinn, first-rounder.

Hawk and Quinn have been dating for an undetermined period of time, but their relationship came to light shortly before last year’s Fiesta Bowl matchup with Notre Dame. After marrying, Laura Quinn-Hawk plans on enjoying the fruits of her multimillion dollar contract, especially the lucrative signing bonus that has become de rigeur for NFL rookies.

“Yeah, the money’s nice, especially since it’s the only guaranteed money I’ll see,” said Quinn from her home on Tuesday morning. “You just gotta treat every dollar like it was fifty cents and leave the thinking to the money men.”

Quinn has made one indulgence, however: a brand new Cadillac Escalade purchased from a Columbus dealership. “We got a great deal on it, but I’m not telling any secrets!” Quinn said, giggling over the line.

A.J. Hawk, who will receive half of Laura’s contract and is scheduled to be Quinn’s vehicle for fame and the inevitable guest host spot opposite Regis Philbin on Regis and Kelly, had no comment, according to Quinn.

HT: Kyle

Hawk: no comment, but will have the roast duck w/mango salsa, please.

When people talk about the glory days of ESPN, they usually mean the days when ESPN strained to cover the full span of 24 hours of programming by spackling together Sportscenter and the eight other obscure sports they had licensing agreements with into a barely watchable porridge of bowling, World’s Strongest Man Contests, and six to eight hours of Steve Sabol’s NFL films. The nostalgia comes from the brutal acclimatization the television sports fan endured in becoming used to the cycle, so that after a few years of watching you came to crave the mediocrity of it all.

The upside of the glory period came in the real reaches ESPN made to plug holes: World’s Strongest Man, the hodgepodge of agricultural/hunting activities that became the Outdoor Games, and the summer bashos. The eclecticism was the charm, even if it was two in the morning and you were watching dogs jump into water off a dock (the apex of civilization, as far as we’re concerned.) You never knew what you were getting, which was both the curse and the charm of the network.

Mark your calendars, because we have something kind to say about the Worldwide Leader: they did something magnificently right by buying the rights to Fuji TV’s Viking: Ultimate Obstacle Course Challenge and showing it on ESPN2 at night. Last night Cuddles Swindle called and alerted us to the show, which isn’t that far off from being MXC without the announcers and ass-sex jokes.

Like MXC without Guy LeDouche. Which isn’t a bad thing.

So where’s the good part without the ass-sex jokes and Kenny Blankenship? The pain, of course, presented unfiltered and authentic in the original format, made all the better by contestants running headlong into walls, falling into pools of freezing water, and looking as if they’re preparing to kill themselves immediately after getting eliminated from the competition. The really great bits:

–A baffling intro featuring what we imagine is a Japanese version of a Viking, a purple dude with a flowing white beard, who says something intimidating in an echoey basso just as Japanese pictographs flash across the screen with the English word “VIKING.” Incomprehensible, bizarre, and exactly what gives you that hair-raising “I’m watching Japanese TV and losing my mind” vibe.

–An obstacle course set up like an enormous Viking ship featuring not 5, not 10, but 100 contestants attempting to get across the course. The show’s only thirty minutes long, so all you get to see of most contestants are their painful demises, often run together in quick montages of faces slamming into pads and flailing, burned legs tangled in cargo nets.

–The requisite non sequitur: a section of the course called “The Captain’s Cabin” involves solving a fourth grade level math problem, which the announcers say at least five hundred times a show to drive home the point that if you’re dumped through the trap door after getting it wrong, you are a slobbering moron who deserves your fate.

It’s brilliant. It’s derivative. It’s cheap. It’s everything we used to love about ESPN. Bravo, sirs.