Pete Carrol was not wearing his Captain Compassion underwear today at the press conference announcing Mark Sanchez’s decision to go pro:

“He’s going against the grain on this one. I told him Durex, but he went with Lifestyles. I said Honda, but he went Subaru. I mean, he’s going to be fine, except that everyone else who’s done this went up in flames except for Mike Vick. Am I saying Mark Sanchez is going to get herpes and start a dogfighting ring? The data’s not there to back up that this won’t happen to him. Because it will. Those dogs are going to hate you, Mark, for both the beast you’ll make them and for the beast you’ll make of yourself. You’ll be fine, if by fine you mean piling everything you know and love into an incinerator called life and letting the fuel of your ego send it all to hell in a smoldering holocaust of failed expectations and broken dreams. Do me a favor and take your first signing bonus and set it on fire, but no before attaching a post-it note to it reading ‘My LIfe, and My Dick.’ At the conclusion of this press conference, I want you all to wave to him, because this may be the last time you see him. When he goes to the NFL, they’ll sic the wolves on him, and when it happens you’ll remember what I said today. I mean literal, rabid, flesh-ripping wolves. Bill Belichick owns forty of them, and each is equipped with a bionic, bulletproof heart and razor-sharp diamond teeth. If you listen in Boston at night you can hear them surrounding Matt Cassel in the cage he sleeps in each night in an unheated warehouse by the docks.”

Oh, and C.J. Spiller’s coming back. Pete thinks that’s just fine.

From reader Crews:

Header: IS IT POSSIBLE…

EMAIL BODY: …that the ram is controlling HIM?

We sense a running gag coming on here. From the Bastrop Enterprise, who reports that Randle is considering LSU, MiAAAHHHHmi, OklahomAAAHHHHH, and AlaBAAHHHHma, and Ole Miss.

[SCENE: KELLY AND TODD'S HOUSE. Game night. They have invited JIM and BOB over for a game the whole family can enjoy because Trivial Pursuit is only fun for smart people.]

Bob: So, how does this work?

Kelly: Okay, Bob and Jim. In the fun-for-everyone game of Cranium, the final round is decided by one question we determine at random with a roll of the die.

Jim: Sounds easy enough. And familiar. (more…)

Brandon Spikes, monster linebacker and budding Derrick Brooks As Midfielder clone, will return to the University of Florida next year. We’re so happy at this news that we just punted a football into our ceiling. The dog is huddling in the corner wondering what she did wrong and there’s a massive dent in the plaster, but it was totally worth it.

Did your pants just fly off? It’s because you looked at this photo.

Also returning is Ole Miss DE Greg Hardy, who made an SI cover, allegedly coasted through football-related activities like games and practices, and will now have to return for a senior season to ensure maximum rookie bonus money with a full season of effort. Hardy is a terrifying defensive end when he wants to be, and when he doesn’t want to be, he’s not, meaning he will require the full snake-handling mesmerizing stare of Coach Giggitypants to maximize his market value. Won’t that be fun?

Oh, there’s so much to do around here in the offseason. We could go outside…no, wait, outside sucks. Not as much as it sucks for you sad, bunker-dwelling Midwesterners, who for some reason decide to live in the middle of the fucking continent where nothing is and where the temperature dives to inhuman temperatures with a negative sign in front of them. Masochism lives, and its address is probably somewhere with IA or SD behind it.

Still, it shouldn’t ever be below freezing in Atlanta. That’s not part of the contract, which specifies all the other bad shit about living here. Which, specifically, is only one thing, really:

Tardbillies Keeping Us From Buying Alcohol on Sundays. You know what? God doesn’t give a shit whether you buy you booze in a grocery store on in a restaurant on Sundays. In fact, he’d probably prefer if we didn’t have to get in a car, drive to the bar, cloud our judgment, and then have three more drinks before getting in the car. You can get booze on Sundays IN ALABAMA FOR HELL’S SAKE. If Alabama has a more sound policy on anything than your state, consider disbanding into a series of independent city-states immediately.

Yet my jacknoramus governor–who actually chooses to call himself Sonny as an adult man–claims this would endanger lives. Fuck you, Sonny, and fuck that ignoramus old biddy trembling in her sunbonnet in some dingy church worried that Crazy Old Testament God will bring his thunder down on Georgia if we can buy a bottle of cheap Aussie Shiraz on Sundays and drink it with my family. And if we’re going to spend time with our family, WE GON HAFTA DRANK, Sonny. You want family values? Let us nip down to the liquor store to make ourselves pleasant for company. Believe us, it’s better for all concerned. God knows this, right God?

YES ATTENTION QUIVERING TARDBILLIES OF GEORGIA PLEASE LET ATLANTA CONTINUE TO BRING LIFE AND MONEY AND INTERESTING THINGS TO YOUR WORLD BY ALLOWING THEM TO BUY ALCOHOL WHENEVER THEY LIKE. ALSO, IF YOU WANT CONVENTIONEERS TO COME BACK, YOU SHOULD BRING BACK 24 HOUR CLUBS. PEOPLE LIKE BOOZE AND WHORES. THEY’RE GOOD FOR BUSINESS. GOD, OUT.

See? Even God wants that to happen. He might be willing to kill your firstborn to make it happen, Georgia! Or maybe not. You’ll never know, but why risk it? He’s done it before, and he might do it again if you don’t let us purchase a case of PBR on Sundays like the pansy failed hipsters we are.