It has been, to say the least, a stressful October for Florida Offensive Coordinator Steve Addazio. Writers, alumni, fans and, one suspects, his own house pets have called for his ouster due to what some describe as "uninspired play-calling" and others "&%$#*!!!" Discontent has grown over the past three weeks following losses to Alabama (expected,) LSU (disappointing) and Mississippi State (Zook-like,) the last two of which were witnessed by home crowds who expect, reasonably or not, a red-zone scoring percentage at least slightly higher than the unemployment rate. One can only imagine how difficult it must be, in times such as these, for Coach Addazio to escape, if only for a few rare moments, the crushing expectations that come with his high-profile position. With his health and that of the program's in mind, and with the bye week upon us, we suggest the following quick get-aways, all within a short driving distance from his
oh dear God please let it soon be vacated constricting office:
Lake Alice: Formerly known as "Jonah's Pond" and named, for no reason whatsoever, after the Biblical prophet who was throw overboard by his own men and swallowed by an aquatic beast, Lake Alice is one of the few spots in Gainesville where one can view actual alligators in their natural habitat. Quiet, serene, and not at all infested with man-eating reptiles of unusual size, the nearby University-owned spot is the perfect location for a day free of your
limbscares and worries. Don't mind the multiple "no swimming" and "don't feed the alligators" signs posted throughout the park; those are intended for souls who lack the devil-may-care attitude that throws caution to the mind and non-running quarterbacks into option formations that fool absolutely no one.
The Devil's Millhopper: Just two miles outside of Gainesville lies the Devil' Millhopper Geological State Park, home of the eponymous 120-foot deep sinkhole. As you descend into its
hellish mawcooling depths, wonder at the layered geological record of the area, as well as its three distinct ecological environments. Now, some say one can't appreciate these sights when plummeting head-first at terminal velocity, but those are the kind of nay-sayers who would deride slamming a 150-pound back time after time after time between the tackles and behind an offensive line that can best be described as "present."
Volusia County Beaches: Although primarily famous for their celebrations of spring break, motorcycling and stock car racing, the 47 miles of Volusia County's beaches also offer the relaxation-seeking visitor ample opportunities to escape the "noise in the system." Why not, for example, seek sanctuary among the area's diverse and totally-not-man-eating marine fauna? UF researchers have found that the optimum place to do so is in less than six feet of water during a Sunday full moon, and that one should wear a black-and-white bathing suit while communing with your new-found animal friends. Additionally, locals suggest slathering one's self in chum and thrashing about like a wounded seal to be even more "at one" with the completely-harmless local wildlife. Now, some would argue that caution is warranted in an area known as the "Shark Attack Capital of the World," but you're Steve Addazio, a man unafraid to call for 5-6 yard pass routes...repeatedly...when down by 3...and seconds are left on the clock...90 yards from the end zone!!!
Jack Fact wants it to be known that in no way does he really wish bodily harm upon Steve Addazio, who he believes could hold his own against alligators, sharks, and gravity...assuming none of those are capable of lining up eleven men on the other side of the ball.