Friday Cheesecake is here, but with Orson out on the road to Florida, he enlisted some help from LSUFreek for this week’s bunda. Errr… animated adventure porn. Something.

I’m not totally sure I’d classify what follows as safe for work. Proceed at your own risk.

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Swindle and I had enormous fun on EDSBS LIVE this year with the annual chaos and silliness that surrounds the coaching carousel in college football, but I must say I’m always a little bit sad when that last hire is made, the fun wheel comes grinding to a halt, and the beginning of the offseason really starts to sink in.

But I was thinking: why does the fun have to stop? Why not take the fun all the way to its logical conclusion:

The 2008 Coaching Hires: Handicapping Who Will Be Fired First

Get out your actuarial tables, scandal sensors, and unacceptable loss forecasters, ’cause it’s time to figure out which of our newly-hired coaches is most likely to get shitcanned first.

Paul Johnson, Georgia Tech – 50:1 You know the only thing hard about Paul Johnson’s new job? Christmas, and the agonizing decision of to whom he owes a bigger fruit basket: Chan Gailey or the rest of the ACC. Can one objectively say who set the bar lowest?

Bo Pelini, Nebraska – 30:1 A favorite in the field to have a nice, long stay at his new home. The man is following Bill Callahan, for Christ’s sake – a coach who was so inept at so traditionally strong a program that Mark Mangino and Gary Pinkel stopped, stared, and thought to themselves, “Holy shit. We can do this.”

Bobby Petrino, Arkansas – 20:1 Following the Nutt Job, he should be more secure than Fort Knox, but let’s not forget this is a man who’s kicked two teams in the balls on his way out the door. He’s slick like Mitt Romney, which means we really can’t rule out anything. Especially because he’s headed to Arkansas, where scandals breed like bunnies. Great value bet here.

Rich Rodriguez, Michigan – 10:1 On the one hand, he’s the coach at Michigan. It’s a pinnacle job and they’ll keep him as long as he’s doing well, which he should. On the other hand, he’s the coach at Michigan, which means the intolerance for sleaziness is fiftyfold what it would be at a school like, say, West Virginia. Or Ohio State. So we’ve gotta hedge here: if he’s a man of good character, he’ll be there forever and win many many many games. If there are skeletons in his closet, he’ll be cut at the knees faster than you can say Sweatervest.

Regrets skimming the fine print…

Mike Sherman, Texas A&M – 6:1 We’re talking Aggies, so we’ve got a special set of questions that need answers: Is he fascist? Would he sacrifice his daughter’s life for a collie? How adept is he at fending off pirate attacks? To what extent would he prefer the world be more like it was in the 1880s than it is today? Would he buy a nice bottle of Boone’s to get a farm animal into bed? And would he know that Orange Hurricane would be the flavor to do it?

Houston Nutt, Ole Miss – 3:1 Buyer’s remorse? We’ll see. We do know the good people of Oxford are dropping by Nutt Job’s new home three times a week to help try to mold him into an acceptable member of society a la Michael Oher, but can you really teach an old dog new tricks? Hillary Clinton advises, “Not old dogs from Arkansas.”

Bill Stewart, West Virginia – 2:1 West Virginia was practically forced to make the classic “We’ll Prove How Much We Won’t Miss You By Hiring Your Old Assistant And Also We’re Suing You” move. Though the sentiment is understandable, the WPHMWWMYBHYOAAAWSY move rarely leads to a lasting relationship. Let’s face it: we’ve all been there. The girlfriend dumps us for a hotter, richer guy so we thump our chest, down that liter of moonshine, file a lawsuit, and then immediately go to bed with the ex-girlfriend’s sluttiest friend. Before long, though, we get over it, slink away to our physician, and triple check for STDs. (You best win and win big soon, Mr. Stewart.)

Rick Neuheisel, UCLA – 1:25 In real life, Vegas would never allow this man’s name to even be on the books, so sure is his impending combustion. After all, if this were a movie, the pitch would go something like this:

Plot outline: Born again coach Supremely sketchy egomaniac with hubris that would shame Bill Bennett is hired to try to outshine and outglitz the indomitable crosstown rival coach.

Setting: Hollywood.

Dramatic Build: After federal agents use a Ryan Seacrest team gang bang videotape to coerce cooperation from the team’s quarterback, authorities are able to undercover an interstate heroin trafficking ring involving the team’s coach and eager recruits who want to earn a spot on the squad.

Climactic Final Scene: Troubled coach flees campus in explosive-packed Lotus with authorities hot in high speed pursuit. Unable to evacuate the targeted rival campus, Special Deputy Agent Peter Carroll is forced to make a daring move to stop the reckless coach from carbombing the rival university into oblivion.

Sequel: An imprisoned coach bribes wardens into transferring top inmate athletes to his prison so he can win the Penitentiary Cup.

Our custom cocktails by conference for your relaxing off-season,beginning with the conference of smooth, the Pac-10.

UCLA: The Gin Rick-ey. Take one waterproof M-80 with custom dry-sealed eight foot fuse and set in bottom of highball glass. Cover with ice, 1 1/2 ozs gin, a splash of lime juice, and club soda. Light fuse. Garnish with lime, enjoy. Wait for it to blow up in your face.

Cal: The Tedford Falls Saving and Loan. Fill highball glass with ice, then add 1 1/2 ozs generic Tussin. Top with 18 year old Sherry Cask-aged Macallan Scotch. The initial taste should be one of great potential; the finish should leave you nauseated and disturbed, as if you were white water rafting with Kevin Bacon.

MP3 File

Wazzu: The Pullman Sleeper. Make a double-tall vodka and tonic with mid to low grade hooch. Don’t bother to mix it. Hide it in a very difficult to find place in the bar, and then make people look for it. (Like Wazzu football, it’s in a hard to find place, and once you get there, the quality’s about average.)

The glass half…full, isn’t it grasshopper?

Washington: The Willingham Paradox. Fill a glass with any dark liquor, and only fill it halfway. If your guest asks for more, explain that you already gave them what you had, and that the other bartender left you with only so much to pour from the bottle. If they complain it is half-empty, ask them “Are you sure it isn’t half-full?” and arch your eyebrow sagely. If they don’t like the drink at all, accuse them of not liking it because of its color.

Arizona: The Tuscon Two-Stepper. Just like a Tequila Sunrise, but include five ounces of Visine to ensure steady, debilitating loss for the consumer.

Oregon: The Screaming Swoosh. Add 8 oz Blue Curacao to neon-lined 64 oz chalice. Fill remainder with magnum of Moet Champagne. Watch and ooh as the color changes to a screaming green, and charge to Phil Knight.

Stanford: the Long Island Iced Tree. Mix eight expensive liquors into a single glass. Drink 12 in a row. Throw against wall, cry, repeat in exactly eight months.

Arizona State: The Fun Devil. Standard Bloody Mary recipe, but float 3 oz of 181 rum on top, ignite, and garnish with hard-boiled egg for added protein and drinking endurance. It’s the drink that burns twice! Goes especially well with golf cart rides into volcanoes.

USC: The Godberry Doggfather. Combine Hennessy and PowerThirst Godberry Flavor in a Gatorade barrel in order to win at drinking and therefore, like Pete Carroll says, win forever.

Oregon State: The Beaver. Combine 4 oz Clam Juice with high-quality organic American whisky. Stir with spruce sprig, and garnish with sardines. We could go nowhere else with this beverage but in this direction, and you knew we were snakes when you picked us up, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU???

…explained by the e’er sage SMQ.

See? It’s just that simple.

Of all the things we loathe about sports culture in the United States, it’s the enshrinement of “smack.” First, to steal our favorite word for heroin is a shame, since “smack” is an inherently funny word used in overwrought heroin dramas and blaxploitation flicks. For Jim Rome to take it to the masses and rebrand it as a form of discourse used IN ALL CAPS SEACREST OUT (that’s tight, broseph, tight) remains a fucking shame.

You’ll never take smack away from us, nor the glorious comedies it inspires.

Two, smack and smack-talkers off the field suck, and suck at what they do for the most part. A little convivial ribbing? Acceptable. A well-tuned jab and skillful riposte? Excellent. Bellowing in a parking lot at a total stranger? Well, legally that’s just assault, and if you’re going to do it, you may as well get the red-mist blood flowing and throw a drunken punch or two before you get pulled apart by your friends, who you’re lucky were there “or the Beast would have taken over, man, and I don’t want that to happen again.”

Three: Jim. (Four minutes of silence.) Rome.

Yeah, but fuck all that, cause the SMACK WAGON is comin’ your way, brah!

At each stop, the RV is giving away t-shirts and mini-footballs, meeting with student groups, distributing fliers, participating in radio promotions, attending university games and generating overall excitement. Garrity and other MSL staff, including former NFL All-Pro Chuck Muncie (a partner with MSL), are traveling with the RV.

“All of these schools are in it to win, so the competition is incredible,” says Garrity. “We expect it to become especially fierce as text votes begin coming in and the schools’ running tallies of tickets sold get posted.”

Text votes make me wanna fight like a brave! The promo is part of the Fox Sports/Big Ten Network’s Gridiron Bash, a series of college football kickoff concerts including:

–Fergie
–Maroon 5
–The Black Crowes
–Dwight Yoakam.

If you happen to be a college student longing to seduce your best friend’s mother, your train done come in, son. Five margaritas, a Fergie show, and two hours of sustained attention should be enough to convince her to play a little modern day Emma Bovary adventure with you.

The soundtrack for this post, and oh you’ll find out why:

Miami Northwestern High sent 283 players to the Miami Hurricanes this year. (Perhaps that number is high, but we’ll stand by it, dammit. You have to take a stand.) Of those, four seemed to be a package deal not only in football, but in…um…everything.

DT Marcus Forston is happy to be with his fellow Miami Northwestern freshmen teammates Sean Spence, Jacory Harris and Aldarius Johnson at UM.

“Everyone says we’re like quadruplets,” Forston said. “Every day everybody sees us together. We take a shower together, go to class together, do everything together. We wait for the shower to clear out, go in there and talk. We go to the bathroom together, everything. So that’s the bond we need this year.”

The team that shits together, stays together–as long as they washed those hands first.

It’s just astonishing, really. We’ve been married for a long, long time, and even now catbox time is strictly one cat at a time. Perhaps a change in diet is in order, or the purchase of a love toilet: grumpies that require the assistance of not one, but three other men aren’t mere medical issues: they’re matters of national security. It’s the South Florida diet, so Cuban triple-stack carbs may be to blame, since it’s one of the few places where you’ll be given rice, plaintains, and bread in a single meal.

(HT: The Great Barstoolio.)

On pain of red-carding, accept for one moment the eschewing of the politics, and just consider the life on the enthusiasms alone: he sailed as an expert, spoke prose despite having Spanish and French as his first languages, proposed the introduction of bike lanes in New York City to reduce traffic, worked for the CIA, wrote spy novels, served as a delegate to the United Nations, founded a successful magazine, hosted a popular television show, and once played the harpsichord on the Conan O’Brien show.

He’s dead, but the tank had to be empty. We bestow this week’s tribute to William F. Buckley, who really should have had this stache.

Ah, yes: RIP, Bill. HT to Holly

By the EDSBS staff.

We care, just like a tiger does: with their claws and teeth first.

Tennessee has a minor, eeny-tiny-bit of a discipline problem, and not the sort that professional paste-eater and push-door puller Mike Freeman suggests should end up in the firing of Phil Fulmer. (Mike: Tyler Durden IS the narrator!) Fire him for being only good to excellent, sure; we’ve seen that in the SEC before. Fire him for blackmailing Trace Adkins with incriminating gay sex photos into performing at his daughter’s birthday party. (Unsee that, dear reader, and you have achieved enlightenment. We just typed it, and will not eat for several days.) Fire him for picking up field mice and bopping them on the head, and then dipping them in panko crumbs, deep frying them, and eating them during film sessions.

Fire him for any of these, but not the juvenile aborted Liverventures™* most Vol players get arrested for these days. The Vols just need a special blend of caring, discipline, and caring discipline outlined below. Because we care. We really do. In that kind of foster kid kind of care, the one where you don’t buy them fresh produce, turn on the heat for them in the winter, or buy them clothes that fit.

Actin’ Straight with EDSBS: Vol-arity Edition.

1: Pat Summitt. This doesn’t even have to take longer than 15 minutes. Simply invite Pat over, have the winningest coach at Tennessee ever come to a Vol team meeting and then allow her to rip each of the Vols’ gridiron types a new, perfectly torn second asshole. Summitt is the kind of thin-lipped, wiry, kerosene-eyed women who drove schoolbuses in my childhood: very, very quiet schoolbuses. There were rumors one kid, once, had spoken, and that only a red mark the birds liked to pick at on the school driveway stood as testament to her wrath. The team would be a lot like that schoolbus for the next year, at least.

2. Hedge mazes outside dorm entrances. Bull your way through fifteen rows of thorny hedge without bleeding to death? Do I smell starting defense?

3. The ChastiT belt. Fierce, made of stainless steel. Adorned with picture of John Chavis on codpiece for extra contraceptive power. (more…)