Mess with the master, get the master stroke. Let us now speak kindly of talk radio. One of the ballsier things we’ve ever heard in talk radio ever came when Nick Cellini of 790 the Zone–who always swore he would talk directly to someone he’d trashed on air and say the same thing–told Tony Siragusa he was the worst player he’d ever seen in the NFL during an interview.

This went about as well as you think it would, as Siragusa immediately retreated behind the tired canard of “Where did you play, huh?” The point stood, though: it’s particularly powerful if you’ll say the exact same thing to someone’s face that you broadcast using any number of fabulous modern media.

Enter Steve Spurrier, Kiffykins, and the proper way to utilize the extremely uncomfortable and increasingly antiquated method of talking to someone’s face.

Told of Kiffin’s comment late Tuesday, Spurrier shook his head and faced Kiffin, who was waiting for an elevator with a couple other coaches. “I didn’t accuse you of cheating,” Spurrier told Kiffin. “I said, ‘Is it permissible to call recruits before he’s announced as head coach, before you take the test?”

Spurrier then turned back toward reporters and told them Kiffin took the test online and was unaware that was allowed. Kiffin’s face turned red during the 40-second exchange and said something that was inaudible.

What didda didda didda SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP

JR! We can’t believe you said that to Sue Ellen! Holly’s guess as to Kiffin’s remarks was “my dad can beat up your dad.” Ours? “Name. Name. Stan? Stuart? Remember, Lane! Remember!” The lesson stands: talking to someone face to face is the scariest thing in the world for some people, especially when the person on the other end fears only Tom Osborne.

And no:did not ask for adjoining rooms with Urban Meyer. Meyer was in the room over Kiffin, though, threading a monofilament line through a tiny hole in the ceiling, patiently dripping poison down the thread into the gaping, snoring mouth of a soundly sleeping Kiffin.

Cowardice option, enabled. Speaking of not saying things to someone’s face: now additional fun and detective work will be required to triangulate just who voted for whom in the final coaches poll. Starting in 2010 the final ballot will likely be secret, according to USA Today. The ballot with “1. Texas, 2. Texas, 3. Texas” is Mack Brown’s.

In case Your School versus Sacrifice Tech doesn’t do it: The E’er fearless Boise State Broncos will begin their season on September 3rd against Oregon, reminding both that the Broncos do not geld their schedule unlike some other programs (holding nose, pointing at ourselves,) but also that the football season is only 99 days away, and that we won’t be starting a fancy countdown until 50 or so, and that run-on sentences were definitely a problem for us in English class.

Finally: Anecdotal evidence that Tim Tebow is planning to pull a Galahad on this impure world of ours.

CONSPIRACY! Submitted by LSUFreek. Layla Kiffin and Erin Andrews were sorority sisters at Florida–true. Erin Andrews is an insanely devoted Florida fan–true. Erin Andrews has been living a double life in a long, elaborately constructed plot to bring total destruction to the Tennessee football program? We have no evidence but the following

If you’ve ever seen them in the same place at the same time, we want proof, and even then will dismiss your data to keep our insane worldview intact. Most conspiracy theorists won’t admit that, but we’ll just be open that we’re riding this until it dies no matter the facts.

Call it the Erin Andrews Rule, then. We don’t mind coaches criticizing each other, but the SEC is as trapped by the dichotomy of Southern cultures as the rest of us, trapped between the twin poles of the WWE and the country club. That Kiffykins has fit in so well in just his first year as to earn his own is either indicative of his ability to immediately adapt to the colors of his surroundings like a chameleon, or that he would be this brazenly dumb no matter where he was.

When LA meets New Jersey it’s sure to be on ESPN2! Rutgers and UCLA are discussing a home-and-home. In other news, Florida is attempting to bulk up its 2016 schedule by booking the Botswana Secretarial and Typing School.

Schnellenberger says he’ll run a paper route if you need him to. Ever since their naming rights deal fell through, Florida Atlantic has had to share Lockhart Stadium with local high school teams, one of the grim realities for the half of college football not turning a profit. (And as a prof points out in that article, that number does not factor in capital costs.)

Favorite sexual position: The Wildcat. There’s nothing that will surprise you in this profile of Houston Nutt, but his city he’d like to visit as “Rio de Janeiro” does tickle the imagination. “SHAKE IT WOMAN WOOOOOOOO!!!”

Finish! Finish! Of particular interest in this: Sam Robey, the freshman who will likely start at center. He’s number 50 in the next-to-last tussle with 91, Earl Okine, one of the strongest dudes on the team and a possible contributor at tackle after getting so huge he could no longer be placed at defensive end without audible gales of laughter from reason and language.

Lane Kiffin likes you to life weights his way…WITH SASS!!! Tennessee may have lost their strength and conditioning coach just six months into the job, a result of “philosophical differences” between Kiffin and Mark Smith, former South Carolina s’n c coach.

Smith: But then, under deep structure, we undermine Wittgenstein completely. You’re still mired in a neo-Platonism openly defiant of observed detail and data, Coach?

Kiffin: I refuse to be a slave to the elements, Coach Smith. And I don’t know if I can have such a nihilistic materialist on my staff.

Smith will likely be replaced by Aaron Ausmus, former Ole Miss weight guy. Orgeron is slowly becoming the flash-fried cayenne-flavored Cheney to Kiffin’s Bush, and will be conducting the business of the program from deep inside a mountain bunker by the time this is all over.

Tickets will start at $8000 a piece. Well, why not.

Oh, you bet your ass it’s slow. If Robert Marve doing anything besides getting involved in a car accident can merit news coverage, we have entered the doldrums. He’ll be going to Purdue, where he can look forward to the same things he was used to at Miami: sun, beautiful scantily clad women, and an idyllic, responsibility-free Isle of Capri for the spoiled young athlete. Correction: that should be “Math and sweatshirts.”

From Flubby: Does the cake taste like violence and fried meat? You bet yo ass it do, chere.