Good luck to all, except you, Tennessee fans. Your tears…taste so sweet…

Leave random comments of any sort below. We’ll ape Deadspin and select the finest for a compilation on Monday, though we don’t have a snappy name for it yet.

We’ll be over here, vibrating quietly until 8:00 p.m. tomorrow night.

We’ve got 12 minutes to post this bit on Florida/Tenneseee, and dammit we haven’t even started. So rather than spending too much time–damn making all those jokes about Wolverines filling out online dating surveys–on making it and then waking up to find us still behind the computer at 8, we’ll type this post in exactly 12 minutes.

(This also allays the fact that this game gives us the screaming fantods/bloody shits/ serious gastric torsion/other horrid signs of anxiety. As much as we love it, we hate what this game does to our soul. So does our lawyer, who cleans up the mess the following morning with the help of the local bail bondsman of our choice.)

Again? Yes, again.

Okay, so: signs of the Footballpocalypse that will determine this game.

Plague. Or “plagued,” as in with inconsistency. Tennessee’s flaky-ass defense. Kills California stone dead and then gives up almost 300 on the ground to Air Force. Also playing with one-armed Justin Harrell, who Meyer thinks is as good with one arm as most players are with two. Perhaps they only show up for obvious threats, in which case we really hope they focused on the game tape from Alabama 2005. That’s what you should prepare for–we promise.

Florida’s offense, though has to be plagued with doubt over showing up in a big game. Iowa’s no pushover, but even in that game the rushing attack never seriously materialized while the scoring capitalized off the heavy lifting done by the special teams and defense. Winning the game with scoring against Tennessee in their home stadium would constitute an evolutionary leap for this offense. (Cue Chris Leak “Fulfillment of Frustration” theme…probably something emo-ish, maybe lifted straight off The O.C.)

Return of the Antichrist: Erik Ainge, who must be possessed by some important non-deific but approximate spirit at this point. Ainge has risen from the dead of being slammed to the goalposts and throwing a pick for six on the same play last year to throwing precise sixty yard handoffs to streaking receivers this year. Zombie Ainge must be crushed by Florida in one manner or another, be it via a standout performance by a line that has thus far underachieved or through judicious blitzing. And Florida’s defenders already know the secret ot zombie hunting: aim for the head.

Aim for the head. Both defenses will this weekend.

Number (s) of the beast (s) : 66 and 75, the numbers of David Ligon and Anthony Parker, the guards for the Vols who’ll match up against bush-hog Marcus Thomas on the Line. Thomas can disrupt from the tackle spot on pass plays as few have in recent Florida history and is also one of those barometer guys who infect the whole team with their attitude. If he and Reggie Nelson eat, everyone gets full. If they don’t, Cutcliffe may run his power game and push-me/pull-you seesaw passing game all night with little interference.

Mascot advantage: Florida. Alligator versus bluetick hound? Snap, roll, and over in a scene that would make a coon-hunter wail with sorrow. Then again, at least Tennessee can have a loving, caring relationship with its mascot. No matter what we do, ours will attempt to kill us or run away for fear of being turned into cowboy boots and batter-fried nuggets.

And a great battle shall commence… Oh, Jesus we don’t want to think about this. We just punched the s off the keyboard doing that. See what you made us do? (Grabs paper bag, hyperventilates.)

False prophecies God I want to win this game by eighty. But that’s not happening: Fulmerball means big, well-conditioned hogs attempting to pigrush their way down the field on offense and slamming gut to gut tenacity on defense. They’ll beat Chris Leak up a little, stop the run, and get fooled on a couple of trickish plays since while they play big and fast, they don’t always play smart.

Florida’s defense will also stop the run, but has been vulnerable to the quick snap passes lately, something both Iowa and Southern Miss exploited. (Iowa, with a bit more success, obviously.) Ainge will be getting the ball out fast and often, negating the line’s speed. Both offenses will have to score through the air, which means picks and big defensive plays, too. Special teams is a push.

Given that, we’ll be contrarian. One storyline here is a fake: Urban renewal, or Vol revival. We think there’s enough flake left in Erik Ainge to shake loose a few picks, especially since he’s been cruising along. Leak, though, gets no tomorrow as a senior, and has been making outstanding decisions with the ball. He won’t be the one to lose it for Florida.

Last year we picked the Gators to lose, and they won 16-7. Being superstitious, we’ll pick them to lose this year, too, by a score of 23-13, with Ainge getting some glory with his bigass receivers. If we’re not thinking clearly, blame the blurred vision on the miasma of hate we’re already stumbling into entering gameday. Rational thought is simply not an option in this rivalry–why start now?

Okay, 27 minutes. Still not bad.

WE WERE RIGHT! Sort of. Chris Fowler on ESPN Insider admits what we suspected (HT: Mike):

For 13 seasons, the locations of the GameDay road shows have been editorial decisions based on the college football landscape. The basic principle was to (almost) always come from the site of the “biggest game,” or occasionally, “the best story…”

Now, the philosophy has been rethought by upper management. For the first time, the competitive landscape of football programming is a frequent consideration. Serving the needs of ABC’s new prime-time package of games is often a priority. The decision on GameDay’s site is less a clear-cut “best game” philosophy now and is more complicated, made on a landscape where terms like “synergy” and “branding” live.

Branding–it’s not just for cattle and fraternity hazing anymore. What ABC/ESPN/Disney/Cthulu management don’t understand about the “branding” of the game is the divide it puts between Gameday’s fiercely loyal fanbase and the games they deem most important. Rather than providing the best story, they’re following network dictates like every other schlubby pregame show, and by doing so cheapen the cachet Gameday once had.

Cthulu’s taken what Gameday once was. If you haven’t seen the Cthulu/Family Circus mashups, click here…if you dare, dear reader.

More previews from the impending footballpocalypse, the greatest weekend of college football ever. Next up: Michigan/Notre Dame.

Coaching fashion advantage: Lloyd Carr. We base this several factors. First, Lloyd always looks ready to step onto an Alaskan crab fishing boat and tell the world to suck his ass for three months while smiling into the teeth of a gale-force storm on the deck of the Cornelia Marie. Even in games when we see him on a sunny day coaching in a golf shirt, we imagine him in a water-repellent Gore-Tex coat of some sort, covered in sea spray and whale guts. That is a man whose personality and fashion have melded in a seamless whole.

In his soul, he’s wearing a yellow rain slicker and cursing the gods.

Charlie Weis, in contrast, is a fat man who wears turtlenecks. We won’t even begin to discuss his belting issues. The only way Weis wins this contest is if he pulls out the “hooded playcalling Sith Emperor” look he likes to use in cold weather, but even then Lloyd’s radiant grizzledness outshines him there.

Cool, but still not grizzled enough.

Best roster name, Michigan: Zoltan the Imperturbable, of course.

Best roster name, Notre Dame: Brady Quinn. The Fighting Irish finally have a quarterback whose name drips with shamrocks, repressed anger, and a genetic susceptiblity to alcoholism. It’s a name you could see sandwiched in between “Finnegan’s Wake” and “Danny Boy” on a list of Irish drinking songs you purchased from the bargain bin. Don’t believe us?

Sounds of Sheep-smelling Sorrow: Ireland’s Finest Drinking Songs: Playlist.

See? Fits right in, doesn’t it? (Umm, does it matter that we’re probably Irish? No, it probably doesn’t.)

Mascot advantage: Michigan. A wolverine, the animal that just wishes you would. Have you ever heard one of these coming through the woods? They even growl when they walk by themselves. A leprechaun would become festive, bloody green ribbon against one, especially since wolverines don’t exactly understand the idea of currency, and could only be bribed with the cold thrill of killing. Your pot of gold doesn’t help you here.

Turnons: Blood.

Signs of the apocalypse: Pundits suddenly leaping in bunches to pick against Notre Dame. Mark May is on your side, Michigan–it may be time to MGoBleh if he’s picking you. Notre Dame stole JoePa’s scotch and snapped his ceremonial drink tray in two last week and has played two legitimate teams; Michigan played Vandy (the current reigning champion of the state of Tennessee burrnnnnn) and Central Michigan. The evidence-based crowd leans toward Notre Dame because it looks like they’re in brawling form and developing coherence as a team.

So a Michigan fans and those picking them shoulder the burden of evidence. Their chips, in order of plausibility:

1. New defense, new day. The old one did a bangup job on throttling ND’s offense last year, holding them to seven points. This year’s model runs out more disguised looks, less predictable tendencies, and fewer helpings of the most popular fourth quarter defense in football (at least with opposing offenses,) the soft zone. The same talent in cagier scheme could equal Georgia Tech style fits for Brady Quinn, who though blessed with abs, talent, and the leering eye of ESPN and Out Magazine, still remains clearly and for Irish fans, sadly mortal.

2. New offense, still kinda groundhog day-ish day. Michigan offenses when not blessed with playmakers capable of spinning gold thread from the rayon of their gameplan (Braylon Edwards,) will always do the same things in sludgy, plodding fashion, even with Mike Debord now calling the plays. Brian’s gone moons over his hammy about the revisitation of the waggle as a weapon in the Michigan offense, which shows you just how deprived they’ve been over the course of the Lloyd Carr era for offensive pizzazz. One thing they haven’t been starved of is wins, of course, but remember that Michigan won’t have an easy time coming from behind in this game if they get down because they’re built to maul and not to sting, running and running and running while throwing when they have to. Mike Hart’s good, but ND has been decent enough on the run to assume only a moonshot career day would be enough to assume a Michigan win. We won’t even torture Michigan fans by mentioning Steve Breaston’s traitorous hands–which we just did. See? Great trick, there.

One serious, serious bright spot for Michigan fans looking for very clear reasons to hope: Notre Dame’s given up significant yardage on first down runs this season. Since every first down will be a run, this makes happy for Mike Hart, whose legs may fly off his body with the work he should get in this gameplan.

No worries if said legs do fly off the body, though: the healing hands of Mike Gittelson await.

Michigan S ‘n C coach Mike Gittleson: loving, if not lovely.

3. Notre Dame’s due, since they’re not all that great. In probability, the likelihood of flipping heads after flipping heads 500 times in a row is…50/50, just what it is at the start. No streak is destined to end, and no argument that a team is “due” holds water.

Plague: That Samardkinajaaklnaja guy. The most lethal and unpredictable running white male presence in a sporting event since Gunter Parche.

The Number of the Beast: 4, as in Michigan’s rank in turnover margin. Michigan’s been like a great pair of underwear this year–tidy, clean ballkeeping for all.

And a great battle commences: Here’s where we say why, despite all their strengths, Michigan won’t win. That reason: design. The two teams don’t match up well design-wise, and whenthe two meet the decision-making strategies favor Weis.

Lloyd is Lloyd is Lloyd. He’ll get crusty, kick some turf, and ensure that the machine keeps ticking its way down the field and does what most people assume to be the mathematically appropriate things–which actually isn’t what you should do at all on situations like 4th and short, but we digress. He’ll play safe, and when there’s a crucial 4th and 2 to convert, he’ll punt provided it doesn’t actually mean shooting his own team’s chances of winning in the head (e.g., the last drive of the game.)

Weis, when matched up against this, will go for it on one or two crucial occasions. Talent-wise, the teams are a push, just like many of the matchups this weekend. What will make the difference is decision-making and execution, which the Irish have a leg up on at the moment thanks to two formidable opponents and one nail-biting road game. Weis will go for it if it’s close, hold the ball and score, and tip a game when it needs tipping. Carr, for the most part, likely won’t.

It’s interesting to note that of the teams that played the Irish best last year, two of them forced Weis to make multiple 4th and short or otherwise risky decisions. Michigan State and USC both gambled with a gambler, and countered risk with ballsy decision making. Rather than having to make one or two risky decisions, Weis had to make multiple choices, and ended up losing them to the detriment of his team. There’s a brilliant mathematical discussion somewhere in there, but we’re too cranked off espresso to parse it out. POINT BEING: if someone’s gambling, ante up or leave the table.

(Potentially) False Prophecies: Notre Dame 35, Michigan 23. For entertainment purposes only. We know what Michigan teams do, and kind of understand what Notre Dame teams do, and guess that this looks about right.

The bouncer in the Blake Mitchell case has dropped charges against the South Carolina quarterback. Spurrier will stick with announced replacement Syvelle Newton, who had been switched to wideout after Mitchell’s arrest and subsequent suspension. Mitchell will be dressed out and on the sidelines Saturday, so let the underage girl taunts begin.

He made us love him. Last year he played with broken ribs and a punctured lung. This year he’s the kindly enforcer keeping the rugrats in line. Dallas Baker continues to be the kind of cliched story of great expectations, disappointing immaturity, hard learning, and ultimate blossoming into full potential that you’d write into exactly 14 minutes of screen time in a movie about college football. (The “tortured-by-personal-demons” qb gets the lion’s share at around 25 minutes.) The best part of the story came last week versus UCF when Percy Harvin, fresh form spiking the ball after scoring, headed back to the Florida bench:

Harvin had to be anticipating at least a hug as senior wide receiver Dallas Baker came sprinting toward him in the end zone. Instead, Baker got in his ear hole and delivered a stern lesson on maturity.

“I told him, ‘Don’t make the same mistakes that I’ve made. Don’t go down the same path,’ ” Baker said. “I said, ‘I’ve done some stupid stuff since I’ve been here. Don’t make the same mistakes. Next time, just hand the ball to the official.’ “

Baker, if you’ve forgotten, earned the 15 yard personal foul that moved the 2004 Vols into scoring position in Knoxville. James Wilhoit then hit a 51 yard field goal to win the game. He’s come light-years since. Our mancrush swelleth with Baker’s putting on the elder statesman mantle–imagine what he could do with two lungs this year. (We hear that makes it easier.)

Dallas Baker: Should benefit from having two lungs to use this year.

That’s a very suggestive headline, isn’t it? But after what he did to Maryland, we’ll say it: give Steve Smith fifteen minutes, and he’ll score twice, either on the field or with your significant other. WVU’s run-wackiness turned the Terps to cinders in fifteen minutes last night, with Slaton going for 149 in the first quarter, scoring twice, and reducing Kirk and Chris to stuttering bystanders as Friedgen hovered like a furious blimp on the Maryland sidelines.

Great point by Herbstreit last night about WVU choosing oddball schemes in order to compete. WVU can’t get the same players as other programs, so they take who they can and place them in three-dollar-bill schemes you can’t possibly take enough time to prepare for. On offensive snaps the whole offense scatters like mice, and just when you figure out Slaton doesn’t have the ball Pat White’s twenty yards into the secondary.

The Mountaineer misdirection spreads to the defensive side of things, too. At times last night Maryland looked catatonic in the face of the 3-3-5; blitzers coming clean in unblocked pairs off the edge happened on multiple occasions, and Sam Hollenback dropped back and appeared to be scanning the walls of a Chinese optometrist.

What do you see, Sam?

Pat White still has yet to put in demonstrably effective work as a passer–that may be the only real critique of WVU, aside from a penchant for nasty dumb penalties after the play. Critiques don’t come in economy-sized buckets big enough to cover what’s wrong with Maryland. A field full of Friedgen’s players–all recruited by him–and there’s not enough speed out there to cover a fit intern’s reasonably prompt visit to an office copier and back. They looked slow and out of it from the start, and only the lethargy of easy victory kept the ‘Eers from pouring the kerosene on Maryland’s couch and making the flames leap higher.

Yahoo Sports scores a huge story, building on their earlier work on the Reggie Bush story by breaking the details of how Reggie Bush allegedly rolled in improper benefits during his time at USC. While the damage seems to center not on the USC program but on the venal behavior of the family when presented with handouts–they went through hotels and limousines like the Clampett family, evidently–the implications for USC remain stark, unappealing, and at this point unavoidable.

Hotels? Lee-mo-zeens? WOO!!!

What those consequences are is uncertain. Any blog post mentioning “death penalty” should be tossed into the bin of inconceivability straightaway; this situation reeks less of institutional corruption and more of a shifty agent infestation that got absurdly out of hand. In fact, the whole bit reminds us of the Tank Black scandal at Florida, where a sports agent fed hungry undergrad phenoms cash in exchange for their trust, eventual agency when they went pro, and ultimately the management of their pro money. Black managed some 12 million of that into his own pockets, and now claims an address ending with “FEDERAL POUND-YOU-IN-THE-ASS PRISONVILLE,” but Florida got away with little in the way of sanctions because Spurrier and the coaching staff knew next to nothing about it.

Tank Black would have been very close to Reggie.

The only thing that should trouble USC fans is Yahoo Sports allegation that USC running backs coach Todd McNair knew of the arrangement Bush had with New Era Sports, the company funding the whole boondoggle. (Remember that after all of this, Bush went and signed with someone else entirely.) If true, that may tie the NCAA’s hands coming into the case, and merit some minor rebuke for USC (as well as putting a dent in McNair’s resume.)

Or they might yank a national title, a Heisman, and set Pete Carroll’s wispy, perfectly constructed hair on fire. You never know with the NCAA. We went to the most responsive NCAA source we have, Josh Centor, the guy who puts together Mondays With Myles and who actually answered some of our questions a while ago. He said he’d put it on the agenda for the next couple of weeks, and given his past track record with this, we’re pretty sure that at least the question will get asked in a substantive form.

For anyone dismissing the story at this point…consider the two salient points here:

1. Reggie Bush has been empirically proven to be a selfish dickface. (This is a scientific term. Trust us.) He raked in money from shifty agents and then told them to kiss off when bigger prospects blushed in his direction. He’s not even reliably bribeable. And don’t contest the evidence; as anyone coming to from a long, hazily remembered night out on the town will attest, credit card receipts sadly do not lie.

2. From 2004 to 2005, a member of the USC Trojans received over $100K in improper benefits. Again, there’s the credit card and receipt thing that makes sweeping this under the rug very difficult.

3. Reggie Bush and his family jacked all this money from a man in a bolo tie, whom you should never trust to begin with at all.

The Big Payback, likely en route for USC in one form or another.

Something’s going to happen. If we were wagering–and that’s all that is at this point–we’d say USC will forfeit the 2005 season. It’s tidy, it’s relatively easy, and it doesn’t mean anything so nasty as actual sanctions in the present tense for THE glamazon program of college football. Again, that’s just total guesswork, but given the recent decision regarding Georgia Tech’s use of ineligible players, it seems to the be policy tool of choice for the Brand-era NCAA.

For the moment, check Conquest Chronicles for an honest USC fan’s balanced angst on the whole deal. Or if you’re into gleeful hatchet jobs typed in blood, there’s always Nestor’s unbiased, clinical evaluation of the situation.

PS. Dan Shanoff, newly liberated from the yoke of the Mouse and writing all the “fucktards” he cares to on his blog, wants the Heisman stripped along with the ‘04 championship. (Dan Wetzel’s the guy who put the ‘04 strip idea out there first.) We think he should begin stapling paper wings on pigs on the championship bit, but the Heisman move seems plausible.