The Irish are poised for their comeback, down 34-17 at the beginning of the fourth.

OS, 11:32: Okay, EDSBS. Go to the garage to limber up for the home stretch and hit the total gym like a champ.

OS, 11:37: A tipped pass after a PI call turns positive mojo into soul-destroying juju for Notre Dame–wake up the echoes of the Insight Bowl. Notre Dame doesn’t have the right genes out there making plays. They need a different species of athlete. They’re coming, but not for a year yet.

PB, 11:40: How many white playmakers does LSU have? It’s simply uncanny how many outstanding white athletes they’ve got on this football team.

OS: LSU plays jumpball, loses, handing ND a pick in the endzone. No matter–Fox is off to distracting us with shots of Terry Bradshaw, who compares his height, hand size, and penis size with the Ent-sized Russell. Terry Bradshaw then hanged himself shortly afterwards, and is being simulated tonight by Frank Caliendo.

Bradshaw’s been a pleasure to listen to tonight, actually. He’s light, he’s pointing out technical but not arcane pieces of football strategy, and being the daft old badger he is. It’s much less bad than we thought.

Howie Long, though, is still eating paint-chips.

PB, 10:54: Slow death by Ent is not as exciting as I thought it would be.

OS, 11:53: Fire Mark May would like you to be advised that the ND Nation suicide rating is up to:

OS, 12:00 a.m.: Keiland Williams, thank you for not emerging off the depth chart until after you played Florida. A darting little back with great feet who’ll be back for LSU next year–he’s just a freshman–he would have made life difficult for us. Too bad Les was going through one of his more idiotish, less savantish phases then.

PB, 12:08: Watching this is officially like drunk sex. It kind of goes on and on, and the longer it carries on, the number it becomes.

OS, 12:07 a.m.: As ND goes three and out and hands it off to LSU to run out the clock, let’s review the night in Bradshawdom:

1. Got joked ribbed for getting married four times.

2. Possibly dropped a “son of a bitch” on air.

3. Made five thousand references to having no hair.

4. Said lots of things like “sumthinornuther” and “gadget-thingy”

We heartily endorse his return. Come back whenever, Terry.

12:15 a.m.: Tie this sausage off, Phyllis–we got ourselves a completely slaughtered hog here. LSU fricassees Notre Dame, who tied their worst defensive performance by allowing 41 points to LSU. Jamarcus Russell’s off to sleep on the lower range of the Ozarks, using his faithful giant donkey Pedro as his pillow. We’re going to catch a few winks. It’s been Popeye’s Cajun Spicy terrific, y’all–thanks.

YOU! Let me throw this football through your chest.

There will be a horrible musical act. There will be some Fox Attitude! And then, you get football.

Fox attitude!

OS, 10:31: LSU’s band won the “Heisman Trophy for marching bands.” Does this mean none of them are ever going to succeed in the pros?

OS, 10:36: Screw you, field goal guy! LOSER!!! See? Bloggers don’t just hate the big guys. We hate everyone with equanimity.

PB, 10:38: There’s no shame on Fox 99% of the time - with that in mind, they need to get far more aggressive with courting more interesting sponsors. You can’t do anything fun when AllState’s funding the party. We’re in New Orleans. Let’s get some real sponsors. Like, Bacardi. Or Scores. And instead of Zalesko scaring the kicker into missing with hokey dialogue, we get half naked hedons distracting the poor guy with pole dancing. Which gets back to our very first point: if there’s any progress, Trey Parker and Matt Stone will be consulted for some of these things.

OS, 10: 47. Les Miles unidiots himself for a minute and challenges the call. It’ll likely be overturned, which will give LSU the ball back–yup. Reversed.

OS, 10:50. I have other sponsors for the Sugar Bowl:

RU-840: The Pill For the Party Girl in You!

Glock Firearms: Keeping America Awesome.

Haitian Board of Tourism: Like Jamaica, But Constantly Burning.

PB, 10:53: Les Miles is the fakester genius! Wooo fakes!

OS, 10:54: That totally never works in NCAA 2007.

PB, 10:55: Only works in BCS games, Orson. Only when the ‘Cinderella’ story is in play. I like that LSU is pulling out all the stops to try to unseat Goliath here.

OS, 10:59: More sponsors that should be in this bowl:

Blood-out Stain Remover: For When You Can’t Wash Blood Out Of Something.

Marlboro’s Tastee-Adult-Chew-Sticks. “You definitely shouldn’t light them and inhale the fragrant smoke, which would be harmful!”

Papa Doux’s Tumor-off. “When dat dere bayou tumor is a pest, let Papa Doux’s give it a rest!”

PB, 10:03: In other surprising news, Charlie Weis thinks his son will be the world’s most successful person ever.

OS, 11:07: We’ve gone all night without mentioning him, but it’s time. We bet the Rock-em Sock-em guys just digitally inserted the image of those robots onto the hulking, smoking frame of Ed Orgeron leaving the gym in Oxford. They also inserted the truck, which the Orgeron would have mounted, mated with successfully, and then reduced to splinters with his mighty fists.

OS, 11:17 p.m.: LSU goes to 27-17 with a FG. Trev from Fire Mark May suggests we raise the ND Nation suicide watch to:

PB, 11:18: Can we get Boise State in here for the 4th quarter?

OS, 11:28: Just when you thought the third quarter was gong to peter out…Jamarcus again flips the ball off his back foot 58 yards or so to Early Doucet on a huge old nine route the two called with waves and yells over the Superdome crowd. Jamarcus Russell went to the sideline to refresh himself with a cold tankard of elephant blood and a side of braised whale, his customary snack.

PB, 11:30: With each unanswered LSU score, the odds of Elightenment Era jokes popping up around here increase exponentially.

PB, 11:31: Third quarter liveblog ends. Onward to the final stanza.

OS, 9:22: Part Two begins with Notre Dame looking not at all doomed after Jamarcus Russell reveals his ugly side of Culpepperness: being very, very turnover-prone.

PB, 9:24: Missed FG from the Irish wastes the turnover. Funny thing: I’m seeing lots of these stir thingeys waved about like pom poms. There’s clearly some confusion in the stands.

OS, 9:27: Yes, we know they’re really just pom-poms. Just like lip gloss with plain label gets called “MANLY NOTGAY EXTREME SPORTS BALM.” Florida fans think these are effete and unnecessary.

It’s not a purse, it’s a european carry-all.

SM, 9:30: For the record, at Florida you will seldom see a man with a pom-pom, unlike the rest of the SEC. Also, Zalesko looks horrid in HD.

PB, 9:31: Zalesko gives guys everywhere a reason to be wary of staying the night. The morning look might not be much fun.

OS, 9:36: Stranko! Huzzah to you, sir. Zalesko doesn’t quite look right in HD, you are correct:

PB, 9:38: Terry Bradshaw: not ashamed to be dumb. I rather admire that, to be honest.

OS, 9:42: Brady gets away with one. Jonathan Zenon, despite his alien heritage and surname, does not hold onto a sure pick. How gassy and noble of him. Bradshaw thinks it was a pick, but what does he know. He couldn’t pass the TCA.

PB, 9:43: It’s good to know that the replay folks are always watching an entirely different game than everyone else.

OS, 9:48: Brady decides to give Jonathan Zenon another chance for an interception, which is quite gentlemanly of him. Zenon takes full advantage of it and holds on for a pick.

PB, 9:52: Watch the LSU offensive line push around the right tackle for the Irish. They’re pinballing him around on pass protection.

OS, 9:56: LSU’s just misfiring all over the place. Missing field goal, getting pass-wacky. Perhaps Peter’s right about Les Miles and the idiot thing.

OS, 10:01: ND’s looking very much like a vintage Patriots drive. Toss here, toss there, dink here, crossing patterns…Charlie’s crunching digits with speed right now.

OS, 10:04: ND’s tied it. The Ent is fuming.

PB, 10:06: Les Miles is at his funniest when he’s flustered. You can see what little bit of intelligence he has just whisk away with the emotional confusion. This should be a great game from here on out.

OS, 10:08: Jamarcus Russell flicks the ball sixty yards effortlessly without stepping into it. He then ruins Irish underwear everywhere by running directly through a poor, now-deceased defender for a touchdown. He was such a nice boy, really.

PB, 10:12: I hope one day I have an opportunity to “sit down with my family” to discuss whether I’d like $55 million dollars now or in one year. I bet that would be fun. “Hey, Mom. How badly do you want that Escalade? Like RIGHT NOW bad? Or, It Can Wait bad?”

OS, 10:17: Terry Bradshaw says he doesn’t need security where he lives. This means he lives next to Jamarcus Russell.

BTW, Terry was a ladykiller before he started eating all that frozen yogurt and crying himself to sleep in his la-z-boy. Regardez:

I think the only decision Jamarcus will have difficulty with after this game is which girls get half the dick on Monday, Tuesdays and Thursday, and which one he pencils in for the full shamu on Wed, Friday, and Saturday. But not on Sunday. That’ll be his day of rest.

Second quarter, concluded. We’ll put up the third quarter and pause for a refreshing Fresca and Everclear.

Orson, 7:55 p.m.: Welcome to the Sugar Bowl liveblog. In Fox’s Manichean world, we are forced to choose between Regis Philbin and James Carville tonight. We’re sticking with the squinty Cajun Gollum if we have to choose.

Regis: creepy.

PB, 7:57 p.m.: Damnit, I’m on West Coast time. Which means I have to do math to post my timestamp. The 20 ounces of whiskey in my right hand wonder whether this will prove problematic. On the upside, I’m eating IN-N-OUT. You win some, you lose some.

OS: 8:00 p.m.: The starspangledanthmepalooza begins. If there’s any such thing as progress, we’ll all be singing “America, Fuck Yeah!” at bowl games in fifty years.

PB, 8:02 p.m.: Better yet - Trey Parker and Matt Stone calling the broadcast. Carrtman voice: “Aaaaand… Quinn is sacked. Quinn. Is. A. Pussy.”

OS, 8:06 p.m.: I just want to say that we think Bill Parcells actually does hang out in tollbooths at night. It just seems right.

For the record, I’ll go ahead and predict Notre Dame’s getting turned into tasty andouille tonight.

PB, 8:08 p.m.: I’d might as well make my official prediction, too: Howie Long’s acting career gets revived… starting tonight. I expect big things.

OS, 8:12 p.m.: If the crowd is singing along to the LSU fight song, the lyrics are: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

PB, 8:16 p.m.: One more thought on Guys I’d Like To See In The Booth: since we’re gonna see two hundred ads for 24 tonight, can we just note how great it would be to have Jack Bauer calling one of these games? Or coaching? “TACKLE THE BALL CARRIER, DAMNIT!!” “TELL ME WHERE THE PLAYBOOK IS!!”

OS, 8:19: We’re all for bringing Andy Dick into the booth, if only to watch him successfully seduce Terry Bradshaw. “I’m just so lonely, Andy…”

PB, 8:23 p.m.: For the record, O - I’m not going to make a single Charlie Weis fat joke tonight. I’m just not gonna do it.

OS, 8:28 p.m.: We’re pros. We don’t need the training wheel stuff.

Did you see Les Miles give Jeannie Zelasko the stinkeye when she touched him? We guess Mrs. Miles carries a brick in her purse.

Dennis Haysbert, who has no connection to this game at all, comes in and graces us with his velvet thundery voice for the coin toss. Fox hates you. Though I would always like my name to be associated with the words “THE UNIT,” wouldn’t you?

PB, 8:30 p.m.: This depresses me, but - look at this. It’s Les Miles.

OS, 8:36 p.m.: Reverse to white wideout against LSU. Sure.

PB, 8:39 p.m.: That was a 9 play, 15 yard drive. This strikes me as a poor way to attack LSU.

PB, 8:40 p.m.: Charlie Weis is a genius.

OS, 8:47 p.m.: Jamarcus Russell’s hugeness is indescribable. You could roll fine, wide-gauge cigars in the creases of his skull.

PB, 8:51 p.m.: Can one of you SEC folks explain to me the pom pom phenomenon? How the hell did this happen?

OS, 8:54 p.m.: They’re not pom-poms, according to Paul Westerdawg. They’re shakers. Pom-poms have handles, shakers have sticks to stir your drink. I think both are unmanly.

OS, 8:58 p.m. ND gets another personal foul. Why? Are they trying to drop the choirboy image like when Kobe became the post-rape charge Black Mamba? Or Mc Hammer when he just became “Hammer” and wore a speedo? It’s not convincing.

OS, 9:00. JESUS JAMARCUS IS RUNNING GET A TRANQ DART!!! NO! GET FIVE!!!

PB, 9:01 p.m.: The Ent strikes again. Would you honestly draft Brady Quinn over The Ent? I wouldn’t.

OS, 9:03: Jamarcus Russell must be too large to transport via jet or bus. They probably just floated him in the Mississippi, put the team bus on him, and floated him down to the Big Easy.

PB, 9:05: There is, of course, no reason for ND fans to give up hope. Charlie Weis may not be a genius, but Les Miles is most certainly an idiot.

OS, 9:07: Howie long not only whips out the “deceptively fast” tag, but says Samarkdinsldkjfa is Loooooong. So loooooong. (Giggle.)

PB, 9:10: I love watching football with my Dad. During the last break, he says, exhaustedly, “You can tell everything about American society from the commercials. The fascists in the country are truck drivers. The pussy whipped are the beer drinkers. Marketing isn’t complicated, obviously.”

OS, 9:13 p.m: Quinn throws into velcro coverage for a TD. Notre Dame only mildly doomed at this point.

OS, 9:17 p.m.: Don’t ask us why we know this, but something in our soul tells us Terry Bradshaw will go home after this, crack out a gallon of lowfat frozen yogurt, and go to sleep weeping gusts of tears into it.

ND forces a Jamarcus fumble, toppling the tree. They take over at the break. End liveblog, first quarter. NDNation, step away from the noose.

We’ll be livebloggin’ the hide off this Sugar Bowl thing tonight with Peter Bean of Burnt Orange Nation. We tend to get off-topic a bit. Tune in–it should make your ADD look like hyperfocus in comparison.

Orson and Peter have sugar problems. Orson’s the one in the dress.

Two long meetings in real-life spiking our frenetic blogging plan today. Accept these scraps as a pittance and apology. We’ll be liveblogging tonight’s Sugar Bowl.

–Bama lands Saban. One obvious sign we’d missed that Saban was going to Bama–Jimbo Fisher’s disappearance from the candidate scuttlebutt surrounding FSU’s offensive coordinator job. The leading candidate there suddenly–as of last Thursday or so–became West Virginia o-line coach Rick Trickett. Jimbo’s going to Tuscaloosa, and must have known a while ago.

Some anonymous internet wizard made their own take here:

Not interested in the Alabama job. At all.

–Notre Dame and LSU in what everyone expects to be a snuff film of a Sugar Bowl. Irish fans cannot logically be outraged by this since they haven’t won a bowl game in eight tries, something we have only heard three thousand times on ESPN in the past day. Blue Gray Sky has been blogging the daylights out of previews, while And the Valley Shook reports that fewer Irish fans than normal have made the trip down to the still half-rebuilt New Orleans. What, afraid of a little cholera, domers? CHOLERA MADE THIS COUNTRY GREAT.

We’ll be liveblogging it tonight with Peter Bean at this here URL. If you haven’t read either edition of the Golden Unicycle Diaries, you should know that things will get out of hand quickly, and will likely not recover for the rest of the night.

–The sudden death of Glen Mason’s career at Minnesota means some late coach-juggling for the Gophers. Front-runners include Wisconsin offensive coordinator Paul Chryst (we hope that’s pronounces “crist”) and Ohio coach Frank Solich.

–Brian still hasn’t surfaced after the Rose Bowl loss. Someone get the drag net and head to the river.

–If you haven’t seen Joel’s flash frenzy on drive charts for all the bowl games, then go. As you would imagine, the Fiesta Bowl looks like an old Pink Floyd album cover.

–The term “Cheatypants Sweatervest” makes it into the Grey Lady. Our favorite bit from the NYT article:

In Ann Arbor, Tressel has become a convenient foil, said Andrei Markovits, a professor of politics and German studies at Michigan. Ohio State is viewed as everything that Michigan purports not to be, Markovits said…

Like…in the national championship game? HA-ha. Championship game.

Phil says: HA-ha…Mike Debord.

–Finally…is this guy taking a shit in the Georgia Tech band section? The Hive thinks so.

UPDATE Watch the live coverage on Fox 6 in Birmingham for some fine comedy. At least until their server melts.

We’re waiting this morning for Nick Saban, the vagabond misery salesman who just happens to be a brilliant football coach. At 10 a.m. EST he’ll announce whether he’s staying or going. We’ll keep you posted, but a few thoughts.

–There’s something no one knows here playing a factor, since Saban would be making less at a job he’s already done before while leaving his dream job: an NFL gig in a city with relatively low expectations. Saban thrives in the stale air of the film room at 2 a.m.; why he’d leave the Miami slot without some factor we’re not thinking about (Family? Problems with Huizenga? Fear of Burmese pythons let loose in the Glades? Tryst with Gloria Estefan that threatens his marriage?) baffles us.

–If Bama gets him, the person standing to lose the most is not Tommy Tuberville. Tubs held his own against LSU over the years–he’s 3-2 against him in the SEC West. Any and all festering stories about Bama immediately destroying Auburn should be quashed stat. In fact, bet heavily on Tuberville’s agent making a casual call to Auburn boostermeisters about the Croesus-heaps Saban could be sitting on in Tuscaloosa.

–If Saban says no, there’s always Deep Blue. Great recruiter, since he connects with the kids with his indomitable Madden skillz. Weak on personal skills, though, which may not be a problem. He’d still be more personable than John Mackovic.

Deep Blue: more cuddly than Saban, actually.

Pending…