We’re off to the EDSBS bunker for the weekend, where we’ll be watching the Gameplan package and squatting on a laptop for much of Saturday. The weekend after Kentucky is traditionally a letdown, but the comfort of our undisclosed location will ease the pain, as will silently thanking Kentucky for existing: without them, we’d never have seen Jared Lorenzen, quarterback, who just killed a man in preseason NFL action.

Consider this the open thread for the weekend. Enjoy.

Dan Steinberg of the DC Sports Bog talks with the wild and wonderful 6′6″ 240, the rapper whose song “Blue and Gold” now serves as the unofficial West Virgnia football theme song. The rapper’s even gone so far as to make remixes for each week, changing the lyrics to suit the opponent and the situation.

Dammit, once we get that Mac laptop preloaded with beatz we’ll beat this man at his own game. Agribeef’s still grindin’ it out in the underground and waitin’ for that break, man. Until Agribeef blows up, though, check out the guy’s MySpace page, where “Blue and Gold, Maryland remix” will play for your listening pleasure.

We’re on the record as thinking that Matt Hayes of The Sporting News is, on the page at least, a dick. But Brian performs a hatchet job far and above anything we could possibly put together on a single individual. It’s a towering acheivement of calumny that deserves to be cryogenically frozen to show future generations what hatchet jobs really and truly look like. To wit: it ends with the words “Nice teeth, horseface!” And that’s not even the best line.

Read it at the risk of your corneas melting from the invective.

Matt Hayes: will work for sugar cubes?

For a real, live, rootin-tootin’ preview of yet-again-rebuilding Penn State/Ohio State, check out Black Shoe Diaries extremely fair assessment of the situation on the ground in Columbus. For our preview of the potentially underwhelming matchup between the two teams, consider our point/counterpoint below on the strengths and weakness of the two teams’ coaches.

Power Factor One: Coaches’ Breakfast.

Point: it’s the most important meal of the day, and JoePa starts it off with a bang by consuming the brains of a hapless passerby caught for him by Penn State officials. Rich in Omega-3s and fats, it’s a bonzer breakfast, as the Aussies would say!

Counterpoint: Tressel’s sensible but bland mix of egg whites with a fruit and granola contains all essential fruit groups, but lacks pizzazz. The topping off with decaf coffee just depresses us.

Advantage: Penn State.

Brains!

Power Factor Two: Fashion

Point Joe Pa strides the sidelines in an outfit few coaches dare to mimic these days: classic white socks and black running shoes matched with black slacks, dress shirt, and tie. Dark glasses give Paterno air of Caesar-like authority mixed with mafia don intimidation.

Counterpoint. Tressel’s sweatervest, grey slacks, and short sleeve shirts channel an image that’s less tough guy and more Ned Flanders than anything else. At its worst this outfit can make Tressel resemble a Best Buy manager who donned a headset, strode onto the sidelines, and simply began calling plays until someone started listening. The sweatervest is bulletproof, however, to protect against the threats of the Israeli mafia or an escaped and raging Maurice Clarett.

Advantage: Tressel. A bulletproof sweater is totally badass.

Power Factor Three: Heart

Point: Does Paterno have one? Yes. An unbeating one, fed only by the zombie virus keeping him alive.

Counterpoint: Does Tressel have one? Yes, a baboon’s heart, implanted successfully in Karachi following an unfortunate “recruiting visit” in Afghanistan that went horribly awry. Jim would tell you about it, but he’d have to kill you.

Advantage: Paterno.

Power Factor Four: Mentors.

Point: Jim Tressel’s most influential mentor: his father, legendary Ohio coach Lee Tressel.

Counterpoint: Paterno’s mentor: Carl von Clausewitz, Prussian general, author of On War, and fellow member of the Kriegsakademie class of 1805 Glee Club.

Von Clausewitz: brilliant military mind, and striking tenor vocalist.

Advantage: Paterno.

Power Factor Five: Postgame Beverage.

Point: Tressel, after a courteous, uneventful and classy press confernece, may enjoy a tasty, cold Fresca, or perhaps some healthy, calcium-rich milk.

Counterpoint: Paterno likes scotch, scotchy scotch scotch.

Advantage: Paterno.

Power Factor Six: Fatal Weakness.

Point: JoePa, while not technically alive, may be stopped with blows to the head from a cricket bat.

Counterpoint: You probably don’t want to hear this, but underneath that sweatervested exterior you’re dealing with the best there is. You don’t seem to want to accept the fact you’re dealing with an expert in guerrilla warfare, with a man who’s the best, with guns, with knives, with his bare hands. A man who’s been trained to ignore pain, ignore weather, to live off the land, to eat things that would make a billy goat puke. In Vietnam his job was to dispose of enemy personnel. To kill! Period! Win by attrition. Well, Jimmy-boy was the best.

You’re just lucky he doesn’t kill you all.

I…I can’t feel my legs…

Advantage: Tressel.

Overall advantage: Paterno. Based on these six extremely scientific metrics, we’re forced to pick Penn State in this game. And since it is science, don’t even attempt to contest this pick, since it’s obviously incontrovertible empirical truth. We’re going to find fresh victims for Joe Pa now.

Fat guys are unusually light on their feet, as any fan of offensive line play will attest. Especially light on their feet are very happy fat men whose football teams just won their game against a hated foe.

This Clemson fan is an excellent example of that.

Did anoyone else catch the sideline celebrity appearance of the year in the late innings of the Virginia/Georgia Tech game? As if Tech didn’t already have enough evolutionary dead-end, oddball frills in their university mythology, here’s one more: the sideline celebrity appearance for Tech last night was Andre 3000, who made things even weirder by appearing to be normal, coherent, and not wearing moon pants or a Confederate soldier’s uniform. He even appeared to have a crew, which just seems to happen if you make over 100K as a rapper in Atlanta. (There’s got to be a mathematical formula for this kind of thing: net income/gangsta credit rating X current position of charted album= posse size, or something like that.)

Was just as astonished at Calvin Johnson’s performance as we were.

One other note from last night’s broadcast: the Davis/May/Holtz combo, as odious as two of its pieces might be on an individual basis…we can’t believe we’re going to type this…are actually getting pretty good at what they do. Lisp aside, ESPN’s got Holtz doing what he does best, which is bullshitting affably in between pounding the table furiously and brushing May’s points aside with coaching blandishments. May, too, gets a role he’s comfortable in, tossing out stats like a rapid-fire Vulcan stat wonk and challenging Lou to present a single logical reason why he thinks anything he does, a challenge Lou usually answers by showing his old coot card, laughing, and dodging the question. Davis just bobs along in the middle like a good therapist, prompting here, pausing there, making sure everything congeals nicely.

ESPN may have produced sausage out of unsightly ingredients, and tasty tubemeat at that.