Everyday Should Be Saturday

March 22, 2007

FIGHTIN’ MUSIC: BULL GATOR STEVE MAKES US SAD

Todd over at Roll Bama Roll thinks we’re cracking on the state of Alabama a bit unfairly. We concur; the state of Alabama did, as he rightly points out, produce Hank Williams, who made every awesome song ever written before the age of 29, when he died from congestive heart failure induced by being ten men crammed into the body of one. It’s just too much for one system to handle.

We would point out in the latest chapter of “Fightin’ Music” that Florida has not one single musical act to claim in the name of quality. Popularity, yes; Creed sold a zillion fucking records in the late ’90s/early ’00s, a time when we were too busy selling our plasma and giving handjobs for rent money visionquesting and temping to prevent such an atrocity from happening. They did, however, provide the soundtrack for countless teen pregnancies between fundy kids who took virginity pledges, so we have to thank them for the unending dark comedy there.

Florida is a musical Namibia. Sadly, our supplemental football fight music doesn’t change that. If anything, think of “Gator Steve” as a kind of sonic defoliant, killing the happy green thoughts in your mind like Agent Orange sprayed on a Vietnamese hillside. We sometimes forget that there are quarters of this world where men wear tanktops, listen to country music, and watch CSI because they find the murder scenes sexy without apology. You forget there are people who annoy you almost as much as NPR-listening fauxhemians who find Sarah Vowell “droll.”*

And then you hear this:

Bull Gator Steve!

MP3 File

*If you use this word and are not British, you will be punched in the teeth.



Filed under: Coaches, the BCS, scandals, arrests, and other eccentri, College football, Pepidemiology, Southeastern Conference, keep it gay  by Orson Swindle

SPRING PRACTICE PIC: HAIR STYLE OF THE YEAR SO FAR

USC’s got issues: developing John David Booty, warming up the receiver factory now that Dwayne Jarrett’s gone to the NFL, and keeping up the fine tradition of guys in the secondary with outstanding hair (Troy Polamalu’s outstanding warrior-mane.)

#36 Josh Pinkard has certainly answered the call on the third count. The equipment staff needs to find him a newer, bigger helmet like, nowish.

A little Gold Bond powder might be in order, too.


Pinkard: It just won’t stop itching, man–see!
Friend: I told you. This is what happens when you party with Leinart.



Filed under: Coaches, the BCS, scandals, arrests, and other eccentri, College football, HA-ha., Pacific 10 Conference  by Orson Swindle

HOW TO TELL IF YOUR COACH HAS CANCER

Does your coach have cancer? The signs for the average homo clipboardicus with a diagnosed case of cancer differ from that of normal men. Most people with cancer get chemotherapy, a treatment causing pain, nausea, fatigue, hair loss, anemia, weakened immunoresponse, and central nervous system problems. They often take time off work, too.

Coaches, however, display only one symptom of cancer: they announce that they have cancer. The latest to do this is Butch Davis, whose dentist found a disturbing growth in his mouth later identified as a non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Davis will receive chemo, but insists all will remain normal at his new gig at UNC:

His doctors have suggested he might feel slightly fatigued at the end of treatment but that should have no impact on his participation–as hands-on as ever–in spring practice.

Coaching the Browns would give anyone cancer, we say; Davis has never smoked or done chewing tobacco, considerable accomplishments for a guy from Arkansas. Davis still remains a weeping willow of a man in comparison to Indiana coach Terry Hoeppner, who came back from a brain tumor last season at Indiana while missing only two days of work. That’s after having someone drill a hole in his skull, dig around for 12 hours or so, and remove a large chunk of angry, misfiring cell matter from his goddamn brain. As someone who moaned like he’d been stabbed at the diagnosis of “runner’s knee,” we have no idea how Hoeppner did this, and frankly never want to find out how.

Hoeppner has had a moment of clarity this week, though, announcing he will take spring practice off to tend to health matters. We hope this isn’t as ominous as it sounds–the Bloomington papers have certainly hinted at ominousness in the announcement. All the best to both Hoeppner and Davis in their treatment.



Filed under: Atlantic Coast Conference, Big 10 Conference, Blog Buddies, Coaches, the BCS, scandals, arrests, and other eccentri, College football, your worst nightmares  by Orson Swindle

GUEST COLUMNIST: URBAN MEYER

Gator Nation, this is coach Urban Meyer here. First, I’d like to personally thank you for all your support this year. The heart and passion of our fans really helped us through the rigors of our schedule. You’re as much to credit as anyone associated with this program for our success. A salute to you, fans.

Second, I’d like to go ahead and announce that I’m totally slacking off for the year 2007. Yup. With a roster full of blue-chip babies, a national championship under the old belt, and a sweet black leather Members’ Only jacket to boot, Urb’s officially announcing the old phone-in for the year. Waitress, this Ohio boy needs some more boat drinks, please.


Urban: needs more boat drinks.

I’ve said differently, sure.

“I wish I could say we’re going to make another run,” Meyer said. “I have no idea. That’s so farfetched, but rebuilding the defense is obviously the key to us having success. Our coaches on defense are going to have to earn their stripes this year.”

Lick it up, poindexters. You really just a bunch of reverse Ron Burgundys, aren’t you? You’ll write anything I say. Like I could walk out there, make a few remarks that I carefully constructed in between texting recruits, and I could read this in the Tampa Trib the next day:

Meyer said: “The reporter writing this is completely gay. Kissing other men ’til he gets beard burn gay. Dancing nancy, Haddaway What-Is-Love, half-tee-wearing, HGH-takin’ circuit boy twirling glo-stick gay. In case you don’t understand: the person writing this sleeps with dudes.

Sometimes, I really believe you’d print that. Especially you, Bianchi.

Like we’re going to do anything anyone remembers this year anyway. (more…)



Filed under: Coaches, the BCS, scandals, arrests, and other eccentri, College football, Southeastern Conference, Urb, bizarro superman says you're welcome  by Orson Swindle

©2008 EveryDayShouldBeSaturday.com - Privacy Policy
EDSBS is proudly powered by WordPress
The page was generated in 1.018 seconds with 23 queries.
Sevenpixels