IN TRANSIT: SEC MEDIA DAYS
En route to the ‘Ham for Media Days, but we’ll be working live from the nerve center of the SEC Hivemind as soon as possible. In the meantime, obligatory Skynyrd. (Or Rich Boy. Whatever.)
Talk to you in a bit.
July 22, 2009
July 14, 2009
CURIOUS INDEX, 7/14/2009
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| A felicitous Bastille Day to all. Say what you will about their food, their attitude towards America, or their wartime record, but don’t say the Fransh can’t write one hell of an ornery, hateful national anthem:
We will be celebrating properly, i.e. with wine and explosives, this afternoon. Remember us fondly. Does the Pope shit in the woods? Quoth the Raven: [Meyer] turned to me and asked. “Is it OK to make this announcement here?” I knew what he was going to say because he said something similar when the speculative story surfaced three weeks ago. Meyer turned back to the golfers and said, “I’m not going to Notre Dame. Ever. I’m going to be the coach at Florida for a long time, as long as they want me.” OK. So we’re done talking about this now, right? Urban Meyer is coaching Florida. And will continue to coach at Florida. (Finebaum column forthcoming: “Unless he doesn’t!” Tee hee!) That’s why they make the big bandwidth. There’s scraping by in the offseason content hardscrabble, then there’s getting 700 words out of the hairstyles at West Virginia’s summer strength workouts: Connolly is no slave to fashion. In his five years here, he has gone completely shorn and shaggy. He is liable to show up with a goatee, a Van Dyke or full beard. Lazear may be vying with Connolly strand for strand, but Davis’ ‘do, which the DB keeps pinned in with a flourishing pony tail may outlast both of his teammates. Tandy’s hair probably falls a tad shorter than Davis’. We’re in awe. Truly, madly, deeply. Still better than I, Robot. This is supposed to look like the Iron Giant or the Tin Man, and other than being made of metal fails completely in both respects. Still, there’s something familiar…ahh, yes. Alabama, the sub-Dreamworks knockoff of football: it ain’t pretty, but does it ever rake in the cash. (Trivia: Terry Bradshaw has a small role in this film as “Broken Arm Bot.” No, no need to thank us.) The Lord’s work. It’s a buyer’s market for kickoff countdowns this time of year, but the 7th Floor is putting their own…particular spin on an old trick.
This is us, pointing and nodding approvingly at whichever corner of the internet Miami’s staked out. |
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July 7, 2009
JULY COLUMNS ARE THE MOST FISKALICIOUS
It’s July, when most people hit the beach for a week and give up on doing anything put picking sand out of sandwiches on the beach and collecting future melanomas. Except for brave football columnists like Paul Finebaum, who soldier through the heat, looking to start fires with the most inflammatory of column fuel. We’d call it stirring the pot, but stirring implies some training and skill. This is more akin to a crackhead slapping the side of a burning oil drum in an alley with an oar until someone notices.
We know. This is what Finebaum does, and it makes him lots of money. Like Nicholas Cage’s hair or watching a highly paid coach botch time management at the end of a half, It doesn’t make it any less point/laughworthy.
Sampled only as needed, with helpful elision provided to eliminate chaff (i.e. the sensible and factual parts of the column.) Also, consider the following things totally accepted as possible: (more…)
June 11, 2009
ALABAMA MAN! HE CAN BOWL HE CAN DRINK HE CAN BOWL SOME MORE!
WOOOOOOOOOOOO. Alabama, get a midget statue at the ready. He done earned it.
Suck it Myles Brand! HOW DYA LIKE MAH NOW!!!
June 8, 2009
TONY FRANKLIN SPILLS ALL AND SHOCKS NONE
In news that will shock absolutely no one whatsoever, Tony Franklin does an interview that ran in the Montgomery Advertiser this past weekend where he suggests the overall vibe at Auburn is somewhere between that of Elsinore-in-regal-crisis and the KGB-era Lubyanka prison in full blossom. If this surprises you, congratulations: you are a deeply deluded Auburn fan, and probably already subscribe to the conspiracy theory of this having something to do with an impending ruling on Alabama. SPIES EVERYWHERE WE TELL YOU.
Lubyanka on the Piedmont: Auburn.
(For sanity–if you’re into that poison–is at Joe Cribbs’ Car Wash, as usual. It’s slow and Tony Franklin likes to talk. Voila! Off-season piece!)
Only the finest niblets from the place Terry Bowden fled in the middle of the night with his binkie and sippy cup in hand from the article follow.
On the atmosphere:
“It was the most unusual place I’ve ever been,” Franklin said of the Auburn program. “No one liked anybody else. There was this deep distrust of everybody. The coaches didn’t trust the administration, the administration didn’t trust each other or the coaches. It was very strange and very unnerving. You would walk down the halls and there would be tension you could just feel.
On Auburn coaches and religion:
“That’s all they do is pray — and talk about praying and religion,” Franklin said. “It’s a constant thing with them, and it’s just overwhelming at times. A lot of people use religion as a crutch, and I think that’s the case there. Every word coming out of their mouths is something about religion, and most of it is just a joke.
It certainly explains their offense in the final years of the Tuberville era. (Florida note: Damn you to hell, Brandon Cox.)
June 4, 2009
COMMENTERS BY CODE: ALABAMA
Sometimes human behavior can be easily programmed and predicted. To save time, we’re encoding college football internet commenters by school. Your next helpful bit of code: the operating system for an Alabama fan.
Code: BEGIN “ALABAMA OS12NC”
10 SCAN for (”Auburn Fan”)
20 IF (”Auburn Fan”)=”present” SKIP to 90
30 IF (”Finebaum column”) THEN 40
40 SCAN (”Finebaum column”) IF “Flattering” THEN PRINT “email”=”YOU’LL TURN ON US SOON I KNOW IT”
50 SCAN (”Finebaum column”) IF “unflattering” THEN RUN program “SLASH COLUMNISTS TIRES AND SEND DEATH THREAT.” NEXT
60 IF (Team’s win % >.500) CITE (Present excellence) RELATIVE TO (object defined: “anything at all.”
70 IF (Topic) = (Coaches) THEN Print (”Bear Bryant”) 400 times
90 PRINT “12 NATIONAL TITLES YOU COWFUCKING FARMTARDS”
100 REPEAT 90 SKIP 90 REPEAT (RECURRENT LOOP)
110 IF (query) = “Iron Bowl 2002–2007″) PRINT “FILE NOT FOUND” NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT
120 SCAN (room) =”Utah fan” THEN command SCREAM=”Freaky Mormon bastards damn you and your flapping titties Andre Smith” THEN (EXIT)
130 VOMIT IF (”conversation”) sub (Object contains ["Shula, Mike]) PATH ["garbage can"] direction=["INTO OR AROUND AS BEST AS ONE CAN MANAGE"]
140 OBJECT RULE=(current coach) + (even a legitimate criticism) RE: (current coach) THEN command RUN FATAL ERROR
140 IF steps 10-130 SCAN=(Code: Unapplicable) THEN command YELL “ROLL TIDE ROLL” until SERIES END=”Never.”
June 1, 2009
HE’S VIOLENT. TRUST US.
This will only end in tears, and perhaps in spectacular nude fight scene in a Turkish bath. Lache Seastrunk: you have been warned.
May 13, 2009
KENNY STABLER LAUGHS AT YOU, SAM KELLER
Congratulations. This picture of Ken Stabler just installed a nitrous boost in your car and felt up your wife. You’ll thank him for both.
We missed this, buried as we are by our mountain of extracurricular work this week, but it should be mentioned that Kenny Stabler laughs at you, Sam Keller. From Warren Beatty’s upcoming memoir My Cock: A Memoir.*
We were all at the Chateau Marmont when Angelica and Jack walk in, and wow–that woman was a pharaoh’s joyride if ever there was one. Long, sleek, the kind of woman who’d choke you until you passed out, sure, but you’d wake up covered in her and two of her friends fired up on lust, cocaine, and the knowledge she’d make it happen with a bullwhip and a cocaine spoon if she had to. Not that she ever had to.
Anyway, Kenny Stabler is working the bar. The Snake walks over, takes a bottle of 151, and swigs a whole mouthful of it while snatching the cigar right out of Jack’s mouth. He then blows the 151 in a fiery stream all over Anjelica. Right at her! Suddenly the smoke clears, and she’s standing there unburned, totally naked, and just stunning.
“That’s called the Mobile Marriage Maker, Sweetie,” he says.
The Snake took her to the endzone right there at the bar, and Jack was screaming “GO, BABY, GO!” the whole time.
Have I mentioned I can’t feel my dick?
An amazing true story about a man who makes Sam Keller’s mere bar trickery look like the amateurish trifling of a schoolboy, which it is in comparison. Stabler had a video game company use his likeness illegally in a video game once, too, but you don’t see him suing the makers of Metal Gear for basing Solid Snake on him, do you?
*This book does not exist, and this story did not happen. But it could have, if Stabler had wanted it to and he wasn’t too busy killing the ladies at the Oakland Yacht Club with his short shorts and assmagnet of a Trans-Am.
April 10, 2009
BIG E IN ALABAMA. PUTTIN IT DOWN. STRONG
Big E in Alabama. Broadcasting from that creepy alternate dimension from Mirrors where hot chicks in bathtubs tear their own jaws off. Droppin’ it strong. Comin’ with it. Strong take, Big E. Glad you’re wearing the safety glasses in case the screen explodes from SHEER INTENSITY.
“For cryin’ out loud, if you’re gonna do it, do it raiiiight.” Tim Tebow’s gonna get right on that undefeated season, sir. It may get slow around the three minute mark, but bear with it. At the very end he takes off his shirt, pours a vat of Wesson oil over his naked chest, and and gives his Crimson Tide Intensity Dials a firm twisting on camera! No, he really does! ROLL DAMN TAHHHHHDE.
(HT: RCR, who hates all things Alabama because he is an Ole Miss fan. Giggi-TAH.)
April 9, 2009
TOO FAT TO RANK, TOO BIG TO IGNORE
GIMMEH STARS!.Chad Lindsay, according to Rivals, is an unranked prospect too obese to consider in the Rivals 250. Chad Lindsay is also a University of Alabama commit who chose the Tide over 19 other scholarship offers. The reason for the discrepancy? Lindsay is listed at 6′ 2″, 307, and as seen in his photo to the right, is a bit of a fat bastard. Or, should you like the faithless scientific term, “is morbidly obese.” Use it all you like, godless cretins. We’ll just call him “aggressively fluffy” and leave it at that.
We mention this to point out two things. First, coaches generally don’t give a shit what Rivals or Scouts think, as evidenced by the passionate pursuit of a human bomb blast barrier by twenty schools. Second, it confirms what you may have begun suspecting with the appearance of Terrence Cody at Alabama: Nick Saban is building his own personal Deadwood of freaks, future gastric bypass candidates, and refugees from Dr. Moreau’s island in order to win a national title at Alabama.
He doesn’t care how many liquid diets or food rangers it takes: he will take every morbidly obese line mutant in the nation under his wing, and ensure they get down to a manageable half-ton or so in order to fall forward, crush opposing linemen with a fart, THUD!, and whimper, and thus wear teams down into forfeit by roster depletion. We approve, especially now that he’s gotten Terrence Cody down to a svelte 350.
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