We don’t believe Alabama fans’ insistence on ‘Bama actually landing Saban has so much as an asshair’s worth of veracity. Then again, these are the people who kept telling us that Franchione was batting eyes at the Aggies while still very much holding the office of head coach. (When someone is constantly insane, it stands to measure that eventually they’ll be right, right? This is the rubric for evaluating and all rumors surrounding Alabama football.)
ESPN, though, seems to have the real lowdown on Alabama’s strategy to woo the completely uninterested and heavily compensated Saban to Alabama. And if you believe the box lead on ESPN.com, Alabama’s using and ancient and time-tested strategy to get him. (HT: Brian.)
If ‘Bama thinks cocksucking is going to land Saban, they’re dead wrong. The man coached in Louisiana and Miami–wethinks the cocksucking there has to rate high in the percentile stratosphere for that kind of thing. If this were USC, we’d wager on Saban possibly leaving, since USC’s actually had a porn star enroll as a student.
One last thing before an orgy of football watching: Joe Kines, orator. Why Alabama doesn’t want to hire this man confounds us. His diction alone is reason for joy.
Like everyone else, we’re overwhelmed, frankly. There’s four games on today, a zillion on over the next few days, and somehow we’re expected to clothe and feed ourselves properly in the interim.
Since that’s not going to happen, we’ll agree to do the following things:
1.We’ll post a review on Sunday of everything that’s happened between now and then.
2. We’ll post on the 2nd in the same manner.
3. We’ll attempt to do those in an easily digestible manner.
Deal? Deal. Excellent. You have viewing to get to. Remember: stay hydrated, stretch every hour or so, and do a light cardio workout with weights during halftimes. Keeps the body and mind firm yet flexible like so much bamboo waving in the grass.
For cardio, we suggest dancing to this clip of the dearly departed Godfatha of Soul, James Brown. For our money, JB’s 1971 Love, Power, Peace: Live at the Olympia is the most ferocious collection of live sounds ever put on record. Rest in Peace, James.
On a hectic pre-holiday Friday, Solon chips in his final bowl picks. Enjoy.
Greetings all.
All things considered, while this has been a thoroughly dissatisfying season for me, I suppose things should be put in perspective; after an uneven 6-11 start, I recovered to go on a 49-24 run–as good an extended run as I have ever had–before stumbling to a 17-28 (and counting) finish–as bad an extended run as I have ever had.
A wiser man than myself once said that the bottom line in this game is that you win some, you lose some, and you hope you win more than you lose. While for the better part of November I wondered if the first part of that adage was true, even in this, one of my more personally disappointing seasons, I have been able to accomplish this task; anyone using my selections, wagering with the traditional 10-11 vigorish, would show a profit for the season.
Profit! It’s what’s for dinner.
My two-year record stands at 156-124, a much more robust 55.7%; generally, a percentage above 55% is considered professional-level quality, and every season a 55% winning percentage is my stated goal. I will fall short of that number this season unless I am able to run the table with my final five selections, which given my current form is highly unlikely; hopefully this off-season I will learn some lessons and come back strong when next season starts.
As it stands (I am writing this Thursday night), my record for the year is 72-63, a winning percentage of 53.3%; please note that I still have wagers on South Carolina and Texas Tech still pending, in addition to those listed below. Hopefully I can close it out strong and build a little momentum for next season. Here are my final selections for the season:
COTTON BOWL, Dallas, TX
Nebraska (+1) v. Auburn
As I have said many times, I thought Auburn was overrated for much of the season. (more…)
Rutgers ended the season badly by dropping two (TWO!?!) games, sinking to a miserable 10-2 previously unheard of at Rutgers–unheard of because they haven’t gone 10-2 or anything close since 1976, when they were rolling over the Colgates of this world on they way to an 11-0 record of dubious merit.
The Texas Bowl won’t shine the beltbuckle of too many Rutgers fans on its own merits. While other teams rip down Lowe’s Motor Speedway at 180 mph or even go “south of the border” (WOO!!! Donkey show for you, student-athlete!), the boys from Rutgers are in Houston throwing shit around and dressing up cows in underwear. Literally.
Players from Rutgers gamely participated in the rodeo bowl, a competition involving roping, dung-tossing and dressing cattle in women’s underwear.
At Kansas State, this constitutes dating. Wocka-wocka! ZING! ZOWEE!!! Our favorite quote from the whole article, though, comes late in the piece:
Off to one side, a rodeo instructor named Dick Hudgins tried to improve the accuracy of Mike Teel, the starting quarterback for Rutgers. When Teel made an errant toss with his lasso, Hudgins asked him, “You’re not a quarterback, are you?†Teel did not respond.
Subcommandante Wayne, the Ohio State fan who defaces this blog every week until Jan. 8th with a can of scarlet spray paint and his inimitable diction, arrives late for his guest column today, which will be his breakdown of the Holiday Bowl. As always: um, enjoy?
Name: The Holiday Bowl, which sounds totally gay to the Subcommandante. Especially after his own holiday to Vegas last week ended up soooo busted-up and shitty. Holiday, my ass. You try finding a legal hooker in East St. Louis. It’s like they don’t even know prostitution is legal, man.
Subcommandante Wayne says that East St. Louis is not worthy of his rockedness.
Motto: The Pacific Life Holiday Bowl: suck my ass, world! That’s not the motto of the bowl, man, but it should be, since I’m telling the whole world to do that this week in any way I can. Case in point: last night with my mom.
Scene: the kitchen.
Mom: “Wayne, when are you going to get the Grand Am fixed?”
Me: “Soon, Mom, gaaaaaww. I’m all tapped out from getting it towed from St. Louis.”
Mom: “You could get a job and stop playing that craft game you’re always talking about.”
Name: Sadly, not the Poulan Weed Eater Bowl anymore: no, just the bland, old, trustworthy Independence Bowl, sans Poulan Weed Eater. For those of us that remember the glory of the Poulan Weed Eater Independence bowl, the shine of this game will never wax as bright as it did when named after a lawn tool.
Motto: Shreveport or Die! Again, no real motto to this one. Though we’re all about “Shreveport or Die,” since it sounds like a song your local bar band Dad likes would play. (You know, white boy stomp music for the Delbert McClinton-listening, “I-tuck-my-golf-shirt-into-my-jean-shorts” crowd.)
Fake Bowl? Hardly. The Independence Bowl gots history, sir: lest you think the pre-Christmas bowl game began as yet another fecal creation of the Worldwide Leader, the Independence Bowl began its life as a December 13th bowl game in 1976 between McNeese State and Tulsa.
Intrusive Corporate Sponsor: PetroSun. They drill for oil, a likely suspect for a sponsor of a bowl based in the industrial heartland of Louisiana. Weirdly enough, they do not have a corporate website. We must therefore assume they are run by a shadowy global conglomerate, and that their every move is plotted by a one-eyed majordomo bent on world domination. Expect Jason Bourne to interrupt halftime festivities with a spectacular fight scene where he kills an internationally renowned assassin with a clarinet.
Tradition Rating: Older than most, and very nearly approaching venerable. The top hits of 1976 included Lou Rawls’ “You’ll Never Find a Love Like Mine,” so we’ll call the Independence Bowl at a rating of Lou Rawlsish. When else are we going to find an excuse to post a clip of Lou Rawls giving a prostate exam to Damon Wayans?
Setup: SEC/Big 12. After years of shuffling around, the matchups here have been quality eatin’ over the past few years. Last year’s furious Missouri comeback was the latest in a chain of good games. Something about middling SEC and middling Big 12 teams equals viewing gold. This gives you yet another excuse to plead explosive diarrhea, leave the office with your hand placed theatrically over your ass, and then run home to catch the game at 4:30.
Location. Shreveport, though the city’s pushing for wider brand recognition of the name “Shreveport-Bossier.” When you’ve got a brand name like “Shreveport,” though, we don’t know why you’d ever mess with it.
We know two reasons why Shreveport is cool, though. (more…)
The Subcommandante will be along in a bit. First, foozball news.
Never outsource your dastardly plots. Never! There FSU was, all tied to the railroad tracks, down 27-23 and getting run over by UCLA, a team that couldn’t run its way through soggy drywall all year. If it was us in charge of this dastardly plot, we would have twiddled our inky black mustache, secured the Seminoles to the track tightly with only the newest, bleached-white rope, and then backed away and let the 4:23 inbound from Portland do the work.
Alas: not all help is created equal. UCLA just sat there, locked at 27-23 for five minutes or so, and when the inevitable rush came flying back for FSU, they collapsed. Yes, they did get off the rails with the assistance of a positively negligent no-call on a pass-interference play where Greg Carr tossed a db to the ground and caught the patented Jeff Bowden Jump Ball for a touchdown. (Jeff Bowden’s reaction shot nearly made us throw up our cough medicine.)
But UCLA let Polly Trueheart off the tracks, and even loosened a few coils of the rope just to make things fair. Nestor and the rest of Bruins Nation weren’t even surprised, right? 4th and nothing on FSU’s goal line, and Dorrell opts for the field goal despite running at will on FSU’s defense to that point. That’s how you end up losing 44-27 to a team Wake Forest blanked at home.
Never, ever send someone else to do your dirty work. Nevah!
Always, always tie the maiden to the tracks yourself. You never know how other people will do it.
When did FSU begin this long, slow, and sad descent into mediocrity? Who cares? It really doesn’t matter, as long as it’s dead, right?
For historical purposes, we think the long slide to tonight’s Emerald Bowl loss (positive thinking positive thinking positive thinking) began long, long ago with the Oklahoma/Florida State game in 2001’s Orange Bowl. Richt left. Amato was gone. Jeff Bowden would soon take Chris Rix to hell, along with the whole formerly juketastic Florida State offense, and leaving a blinded Bobby to act out a sad little redneck Shakespeare until the denouement this year–Jeff Bowden’s resignation and cashout, where he’ll wipe the tears away with Seminole booster money until the year 2012, when his annual payout will finally end, and he will have to find honest work as a barista somewhere.
Flash back with us, and remind yourself that once a badass, always a badass, as is very much the case with Roy Williams here.
Ohio State continues to look into potential NCAA violations committed Saturday involving a benefit dinner for four players’ families.
“We still have conversations to occur, and hopefully by the end of the week we will have it resolved one way or the other,” athletic director Gene Smith said.
Asked if it appears to be a serious matter, Smith said, “I can’t comment on it at this point.”
NCAA regulations prohibit fundraisers to help players’ families, and NCAA spokesman Bob Williams said OSU’s investigation will determine whether there was an extra benefit to the families of running backs Antonio Pittman and Chris Wells, defensive end Lawrence Wilson and defensive back DeAngelo Haslam. If so, the players would be ineligible to compete in the national title game Jan. 8 and the school likely would apply for reinstatement.
The complete partisan would at this point be WOO-WOO!-ing all over this from a Florida perspective, but the NCAA skeptic has to ask what the hell an organization does when it’s policing dinners held to raise money so families can see their children play the second biggest football game of their young lives. (Michigan’s got the top spot in any Buckeye year, si? Si.) Plus:as a Florida fan, you don’t want to beat Voltron when he’s missing a leg, right? Of course not. You want to knock the whole thing on its ass, not a diminished version of it.
Name: The Emerald Bowl. Our fingers really just wanted to keep typing here–whaaa? No improbably clunky secondary sponsor? No long modifiers? No Pioneer Purevision Bell Helicopteredness?–but that’s it. The Emerald Bowl, brought to you by Chan Gailey.
Actually, as we’ll remind you several times during this preview, Chan Gailey is not involved in this game. Florida State is playing in this game. The Emerald Bowl. Without their band, whom they’ve outsourced.
Motto: Umm…”We’re nuts about football?” None visible on their respectable website, which does mention that Florida State is playing in the game. The website also brags about being the only matchup between the ACC and the Pac-10, and, well, good for them for that, since prior Emerald Bowls featured the Mountain West versus the ACC, games either serving as grim confirmation of the Mountain West’s drastic talent deficit (losses to Boston College, Virginia Tech, and Navy) or nasty revelation re: a major program’s ability to show up for a bowl two thousand miles away from home (Georgia Tech’s humiliation in 2005.)
Since it doesn’t have a motto, we’ll just supply one free for them: “Featuring Florida State!” They already have the t-shirt, which we’ve already purchased and framed in our bathroom:
Did we mention Florida State’s playing in the Emerald Bowl?
Fake Bowl? Not really–think of it as the Chik-Fil-A Peach Bowl of the West Coast, an upstart bowl whose competent management, slick promotion, and sound invite strategy give it a robust profile for a bowl game only five years in existence. (In retrospect, the Utah/Georgia Tech invite of last year was brilliant. It helps that Utah won, of course.) The corporate partners list features just what you would expect of a well-run bowl game in the Bay Area: a newspaper, luxury hotel, gourmet food supplier, IT company, and a rubber fist emporium.
(That’s what Portal One is, right?)
On a side note, we’d give our left kidney to make the trophy for this game a rubber fist awarded by ten men in hot pants wearing angel wings. In fact, we’d even root for FSU just to see this trophy handed to a vomiting and pale Bobby Bowden.
Intrusive Corporate Sponsor: Emerald Nuts, the snack-food subsidiary of Diamond Foods, which is itself a joint venture between Matsumura Fishworks and Tamaribuchi Heavy Manufacturing Concern. We give the crown of least intrusive sponsor to Emerald, since their name doubles nicely as a sponsor and title. They also do not insist on shoehorning their name and product into the full title like some people we know. (Pioneer Pure Vision Whores.)
The wonder of corporate copywriting does strike again on the site:
The Emerald Bowl exemplifies the spirit of exercise and vitality — just like the healthful, contemporary products brought to consumers by Diamond Foods.
We love contemporary products. Especially canned food and penicillin, though the day we quit drinking mead is the day you can revoke our Viking license, friend.
Tradition Rating: Around since 2002, a youngster, for sure, but still more venerable than the New Orleans Bowl. Since 2002 was announced as the year of autism, we give the Emerald Bowl a tradition rating of Hug Machine.
And you thought Mike Tirico was “the hug machine.”
Setup: ACC vs. Pac-10. One of the real value buys of the bowl season, not only does the Emerald Bowl pair an ACC and Pac-10 matchup rarely seen, it does what bowls are best for: pairing two teams of similar profile who’ve never actually played each other before. One of those teams, in case you didn’t realize, is Florida State. The other is a UCLA team still buzzing from a desperate choke-out of USC, the game allowing Florida to play in the national title game. While Florida State plays in the Emerald Bowl.
Location. San Francisco, a name not synonymous with college football but, instead, with the consumption of one’s own farts.
Matchup quality: Gourmet almond quality for half the price, here. We kept waiting for Jarvis Moss and company to incinerate the turnstile tackles of Florida State in the Florida/FSU game. This never happened, but those wanting to see a nearly grown man yanked down by the collar ten times in a night may want to tune in: UCLA’s pair of defensive ends, Justin Hickman and Bruce Davis, each have 12.5 sacks. Xavier Weatherford–the two headed tackling dummy under center for Florida State–will get abused to the degree of second-degree felony tonight. Florida State’s offensive disorder has killed qb productivity with bad protection and predictable routes all year. If Hickman presents a shadow of the menace he displayed when we saw him at Notre Dame–he vaulted a lineman on one play, a sight lesser quarterbacks than Brady Quinn would have crapped pants at–FSU’s woes will continue.
We would type something here about a running game if they had one, but Florida State does not have one and has not for three years. Did we mention they’re playing in the Emerald Bowl? UCLA’s mini-line is light in the weight department, and could in theory get pushed around. Florida State is incapable of such brawn, though, and their offensive coordinator doesn’t like to worry about petty things like blocking and such.
UCLA’s completed the handiwork of a coach who doesn’t quite have a handle on how to headcoach properlike just yet: an offensive juggernaut in ‘05 became a defensive team long on pop and shy on points in ‘06. A middling offensive team at best, they’re saddled with another problem in a mild but persistent case of quarterback surplus. Ben Olson is back for the bowl game. Patrick Cowan, his backup, beat USC in a game decided largely by his refusal to make mistakes and his ability to scramble for key third-down yardage. Either one will get serious punishment dealt out to them by Florida State’s defense, the lone unit on the team with any semblance of past Seminole glories.
What to watch for: Concussions and punting, most likely. Florida State’s offense will hand UCLA ten points easy; combine that with Patrick Cowan’s scrambling, tons of dumpoff passes to the versatile Chris Markey at running back, and a game plan designed to eke out yards and dare Florida State to score, and UCLA will nab the Pac-10’s first bowl victory. FSU should score a few points off the legendary Jeff Bowden rainbow jump ball pass–so pretty!–but UCLA should be able to thrill to the site of FSU’s offense drowning slowly in the second half. No worries on entertainment value, though: they’ll be plenty of extremely violent hits between the two superb defenses, which is all one can ask for in a bowl game the day after Christmas. It should be fine viewing, even for those of you not addicted to FSU snuff films like we are.
Did we mention Florida State’s playing in the Emerald Bowl?
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Orson Swindle and Stranko Montana are two men pushing thirty who should know better than to run a college football blog, but evidently don't. Both graduated from the University of Florida, and both agree that college football is far too important to be left to the professionals.
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