Thanks to Latin Rapper.com for your Friday cheesecake. Enjoy your weekend, something we said yesterday because we really did lose track of the day. Your benefit, though, since this makes twice the cheesecake for the week, though nothing can really compares to yesterday’s haul. (Competing with Brazil in bunda is like competing with Russia in money laundering. You’re really just playing for second place all along.)
Now, for real: enjoy your weekend. Don’t give up–you’ve got a reason to live without football. And that reason is signing day! After that, it’s everybody for themselves like we’re all in 28 Days Later.
We completely botched our list of moments of malicious fate yesterday by not including the blunderous monstrosity of not only not covering the 28 point spread over a 4-7 team, but losing your shot at a national title to Dave Wannstedt…at home. How we’d forgotten the football expression of hitting yourself in the balls with a taser we’ll never know–caffeine? Brain tumor? Distracted by a particularly striking piece of lint floating in the sunlight? It could have been anything, but no matter–it was an inexcusable oversight on our part.
We present West Virginia losing to Pitt in their last game of the regular season versus the Wannstache, a 13-9 loss that–did we mention this yet?–cost them a shot at the national title. Pitt was ready to ride, dawg!
How the hell does Hawaii’s coach end up sitting in Dallas today? We have answers.
We have inside information. Read along.
(Scene: a nattily dressed man with a bourbon gut enter the room from a hidden door. Visible through the door: a bed with silk sheets streaming off it and onto the floor, a woman’s naked legs seen to the knee. Ed “the Scrapple King” Pestara zips his expensive pants.)
Ed: Hey, baby. Don’t clean up. I like you walking around smelling claimed. Other men smell it on you like monkeys and back off. Or like Meerkats.
Woman, from the other room: Okay, King.
Ed: And stay out of here while the men are talking. Take the back stairs and go buy yourself a smoothie. Low-carb, though. I don’t want you gettin’ cottage cheesey on me.
Woman: Okay, baby.
(Ed’s secretary pops her head in the door. She is a stunning Latina with a skin-tight black skirt on and a white oxford shirt open down to ample cleavage.)
Phil Fulmer’s first candidate for offensive coordinator is not Mike Debord, but rather the head coach of the Richmond Spiders, Dave Clawson. Clawson turned around both the Fordham and the Richmond program, leading Richmond to an 11-3 record and to the Division 1-AA (new terminology be damned) title gamesemi-finals against Appalchian State. (Which they lost, but no shame in that. Transitively, so did Florida.)
If you’re looking for a taste of what Clawson brings to the table as an offensive coordinator, Youtube’s not helping much. Here’s what we did find, notable for its peeks at what appears to be your standard, multiform offense in the Cutcliffe mode and some of the excellence you’ve come to expect from student broadcasting. At one point, he uses the phrase “SIKE!” We don’t know whether to praise him for this, or push him from the parapets screaming.
The Fulmer Cup is open. There WILL be a theme song. “Hung Like Reggie F’n Nelson” Brian, holla at ya lawya if you’re still willing to do the scoreboard.
Now that Michigan is no longer a game preserve for slow white qbs, frosh Ryan Mallett is out and looking to transfer. Possibilities include Tennessee (long a friend of the leadfoot catapult type,) Texas A&M, and UCLA. The Tennessee connection is an interesting one because it’s predicated on the notion of Mike Debord possibly coming to take the OC job in Knoxville. We can only hope they mean the “3 and out” Mike Debord, and not the Tom Moore clone with the assassin’s playbook who coached the Capital One Bowl.
$300K. Them’s the digits on the total amount of money Reggie Bush pocketed from failed sports marketeer Lloyd Lake while at USC, according to Tarnished Heisman, the very poorly named book from Don Yaeger about the Reggie Bush scandal. Why there’s any hue or outcry about this book is beyond us–it’s everything you already knew from the Yahoo! Sports stories plus some additional interviews. Oh, and did we mention a lousy title? There’s not even lesbian cheerleader action in this one, Don, unlike your previous work, now available on Amazon for as low as 0.28 cents.
Dislocated kneecap and three torn ligaments is the knee disaster Shaun Carney endured in the Armed Forces Bowl. He’s getting surgery, but three ligaments? Jaysus. That one play turned his otherwise healthy joint into an anatomical Afghanistan.
On an entirely unrelated note, take a moment to note the death of Sir Edmund Hillary, the first man to climb Everest who spent most of his life afterwards working for the Himalaya Trust building schools and hospitals in Nepal. Hillary was, according to almost anyone you’ll talk to in the climbing community, an extraordinary ordinary guy: humble, witty, and committed to leaving the world a better place. A good dude by any measure who did his best to help one of the most beautiful places in the world and its people. (In all seriousness, go there once it settles down a bit and spend some money. It’s fantastic. No ironies, no sarcasm. The minute they get broadband, we’re doing the blog alternately from there and our secret bungalow fortress off the coast of Thailand.)
Night, chief.
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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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