The principle is transferable to so many other things, though. For instance, take Brandon Spikes. He is a fierce linebacker, swimming through blocks and sniffing out plays other predatory linebackers miss. He’s practically sharklike, we tell you. Sharks have a lot of positives traits. They kill things well. They never stop moving. They often RSVP for parties well before others and have a natural sensitivity to the issues of LGBT other fish don’t have. They’re sharks, they’re proud, and you can’t take that away from them unless you kill them and eat them. Then you’ve pretty much taken everything away from them, because you’ve eaten them.

Is this Brandon Spikes’ future? With the right insane associative rhetoric, IT VERY WELL COULD BE.

Sharks, who are just like Brandon Spikes and vice versa, can do the same to you, and that’s the problem. Sharks eat things randomly. You might see Brandon Spikes eating a license plate on the side of the road because it’s shiny one day, and then what are you going to do, Florida fans? Let’s not even get on the topic of what happens to pregnant sharks around other sharks.

A pregnant shark at a New Zealand aquarium was bitten by another shark, unexpectedly releasing four baby sharks as visitors watched.

An aquarium spokeswoman said stunned visitors saw the injured shark and alerted staff that they had also seen things float from the gaping wound.

What happens when Spikes finds shark love and then bites open his beloved because, well, he’s a shark and that’s what sharks do? Do you know how much shark day care costs? Or how strained your relationship with your shark in-laws will become, especially because sharks have such difficulty dealing with their emotions anyway? What about when he just begins attacking men who look like Robert Shaw? Do you know how many barrel chested sketchoid guys with mustaches there are in Florida? He’ll never have time for football.

(If this does happen, though, Chuck Amato should grow a mustache, and someone should film this for the benefit of NC State fans.)

WHAT THEN FLORIDA FANS? We’re just saying, he might want to switch to decaf, because then you’ll be stuck with all these shark babies you can’t eat at once, sharkbacker Spikes.

I promise this isn’t a metaphor (and if it were, it wouldn’t be a particularly good one), but I had a nightmare last night involving not being able to open my eyes (and some small woodland creatures, but that’s neither here nor there). I was jarred out of the second one by my phone ringing off the hook, and here’s why:

Janzen Jackson, Michael Edwards and Nu’Keese Richardson, all 18, were charged this morning after an armed robbery attempt at a Pilot station on Cumberland Avenue, according to the Knoxville Police Department.

Each player faces three counts of attempted armed robbery.

Additionally, several news outlets are reporting that it was a semiautomatic PELLET GUN, which is apparently a real thing that exists. And here’s the money shot:

A Volunteer TV News photographer on the scene captured the suspects while they were being identified. At least one of them wore a black University of Tennessee t-shirt with an orange Adidas logo and the phrase “impossible is nothing.”

Honestly, in the first few minutes I was convinced it had to be a perfectly executed joke (I’m reminded of the first time I met Fearless Leader), and then my phone rang again, and again. There’s a weird kind of symmetry to it. Jackson and Richardson had already been in trouble with Kiffykins, though not legal trouble, in the past couple weeks. If it’s true, I hope they’re all three gone by the end of the day, lockers empty and dorm room doors swinging. Richardson and Edwards wouldn’t be missed all that much from this Vawls iteration (minus their strategic value as recruits), but Jackson was praised over and over again as being better than Berry when Berry was his age.

It’s weird. I never thought I’d end up mourning our clean police records, but they’re busted, so the floor is now open for wailing, gnashing of teeth, and outright gloating. Let’s all take a few deep breaths, and—

IF PHIL FULMER WAS STILL HERE THEY’D'VE USED A LOT MORE THAN A PELLET GUN THIS PROGRAM’S GONE SOFT I TELL YOU WHAT.

I feel better already.

#11 Ohio State @ Toledo

Holly: Aaron Opelt IS The Brave Little Toaster IN The Brave Little Toaster. The toast (sorry) of the MAC brings his flingin’ arm up against its first real defensive test of the year. Will the Buckeyes rebound from last week’s debacle when faced with a team that should by all rights be an easy target? Hayll, no. Toledo will cover that unconscionable 20.5 line at the very least, and in fact, let’s pick them to win outright, because they’re named “Rockets” and because if I picked against them, Toledo fans wouldn’t send me poorly veiled and spellchecked death threats. Got a long car trip this afteroon, and I’ll need the entertainment.

Can that guy play linebacker? (And does the Brave Little Toaster die at the end? I forget.

Tennessee @ #1 Florida

Orson: Brandon Spikes IS the County Assessor in DON’T EVER FUCK WITH THE COUNTY ASSESSOR BITCH. You know who’s been teeny eeny weeny mouse quiet? THE COUNTY ASSESSOR BITCH. Brandon Spikes hasn’t said anything all week, but his presence in shutting down the Tennessee run game will mean mo’ Crompton, and mo’ Crompton means mo’ interceptions, since he has thrown many more interceptions than one should as a college quarterback. The County Assessor will decide what real estate you can afford, Mr. Crompton. Considering your credit rating, it looks like you can afford nothing in the ZIP code of 32601.

Holly: Lane Kiffin IS Chuck Barris IN Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. Is any of it true? Who cares; we’re just here for the spectacle and the stories. Giant motherfucking catfish rains down the sky, Nick Reveiz racks up thirty tackles, Boo Berry breaks the NCAA career interception yardage record on the road in Gainesville and Tennessee returns to the Motherland victorious by a score of a billionteen to six. (What the hell were you expecting?)

#3 USC @ Washington

Holly: Steve Sarkisian IS Luke Skywalker IN A New Hope. Bratty early Luke who just wants to pick up some power converters. Yoda’s coming to YOUR swamp now, Sarky, and he likes your moves but you’re still Washington. Trojans, but a close enough game to send the Huskies to the locker room with the cuddly moral victory.

Orson: USC IS Martin Blank IN Gross Pointe Blank. It’s not me, says Pete Carroll, as he plugs three in the head of Washington at close range. Even friends get it if the name’s on the contract, Steve BLAM! /picksupdiscovermagazine /readsidly

Tulsa @ #12 Oklahoma

Todd Graham IS Patrick Bateman IN American Psycho . Up the coaching ladder no matter the cost, even if he had to stab people to get an incremental jump from Rice to Tulsa (the equivalent of strangling a co-worker for a promotion from assistant general manager to senior assistant general manager.) Now looking around and noticing the subtle bone-white of other people’s business cards, and sensing the sudden hollow cheapness of his world. I’m not saying he flexes in the mirror while filming his own sexual encounters. I’m saying he flexes in the mirror and screams “Yeah, Todd!” while filming his own sexual encounters. Two entirely different things. (This means Tulsa loses, btw.)

Holly: Bob Stoops IS Dana Marschz IN Hamlet 2. Completely and cheerfully divorced from reality. Look, it’s entirely beyond possible that I’m not coming back from this weekend alive, so let’s really live and call the upset here as well. Is it really an upset without Sam Bradford? Vegas seems to think so, setting the line at 17.5. Is that even going to be an issue with the departure of Gus Malzahn? What the hell, we’re about to find out. The Golden Hurricane (oooh, singular MLS-style name, edgy!) has torn up two previous (and bad) opponents by a combined score of 81-23. This is only slightly larger than Oklahoma’s last margin of victory at their previous meeting.

#19 Nebraska @ #13 Virginia Tech

Holly: Urban Meyer IS Rosie Perez IN Do The Right Thing. With a gun to my head and Diamonique Cold Meyer at the other end of it, I could not come up with a game I have less interest in watching than this one. Can I pick the West Virginia game instead? Because speaking of Malzahn, he’s about to bitchmake Bill Stewart at Auburn in primetime like the bitch Bill Stewart is.

Orson: Bo Pelini IS Alex Baldwin IN The Bear. The Bear’s antagonist–a bear–all too perfectly sums up what it’s like to play Virginia Tech, a huge, mean animal that, if you have one or two well-aimed bullets, can be killed nine times out of ten. Nebraska has a few of those in the form of an actual offense, something Virginia Tech continues to innovatively play football without. Close, as BEAMERBALL (TM) tends to be, but ultimately leaning towards the Cornhuskers.

Michigan State @ Notre Dame

Orson: Golden Tate IS Pele IN Victory. Notre Dame will go down early to the Spartans. Defeat will be in the air. Doom will tunnel up through the locker room at halftime and beckon the Irish to follow them to a season of bailing right nastily on Weis, but then everyone will remember that no one can cover Golden Tate, and that Charlie Weis should just go back to the four play “Toss-Draw-Deep ball-crossing pattern” offense they’ve been running since halfway through last year, and then it’s Dantonio Face time for the entire second half. Victoire! Victoire! Victoire! It will be just like the end of Victory, except for the raunchy sex with the locals, since that will get you kicked out of school if you do it in the wrong places in South Bend.

Holly: Tate Forcier IS Pete IN Pete’s Dragon, with a special guest appearance by Rich Rodriguez as HOLY SHIT A DRAGON. If we were even keeping track of our scores week to week, I would be logic-bound to take the Irish. We are not, and I am not, and though that one Domer troll has mysteriously disappeared since The Recent Unpleasantness, this is kind of a fun habit. Dantonio over Weis in a surl-off, and Spartans over Irish out of uncut Colombian spite. (I’m sorry, Harrison Smith. Forgive me, Golden Tate. It’s Hate Week, and it’s leaking everywhere.)

Navy @ Pitt

Holly: Dave Wannstedt IS David Spritz IN The Weather Man. Navy and Miami were my ‘09 BCS sleeper picks. The Baby ‘Canes are acquitting themselves quite nicely, but Navy took a heartbreaker of a haymaker early in Columbus before righting the ship against a not-awful Louisiana Tech team. And if anyone’s prepared to deliver a loss when he shouldn’t, it’s the Wannstache. Make it happen, Pitt Kitties.

Orson: Ken Niumatololo IS The Wolf IN Pulp Fiction. I have a mess, Ken. A huge one, since I’m now in week three of Wannstache Upset Alert, and have zero to show for it save for this tripled-down bet on Dave Wannstedt doing what comes naturally to him: blowing a game against inferior competition. I’ll make you coffee, whatever you need, man. Just clean up the dead bodies a suddenly consistent Pitt team keeps leaving in my car. Buffalo’s brains are all over the backseat.

Florida State @ #7 BYU

Bronco Mendenhall IS Kirk Douglas IN Spartacus. Running from the hills to terrorize an old empire wearing nothing but a spear and a jock strap. Okay, more than that, since these are Mormons, but remember two key plot points:

1. Spartacus rips Rome a new one, and

2. He ends up dead in the end.

But but but but BYU is a BCS buster and beat Oklahoma and THAT’S JUST WHAT COLLEGE FOOTBALL WOULD WANT YOU TO THINK. The patron god of this sport is Loki, and he’s telling you that mischief would be a tattered, tottering FSU team rolling into Provo and beating BYU. Mischief, he will have.

Holly: Bobby Bowden IS Theoden IN LOTR: The Two Towers. Not a whisper of an upset here. With a defense that’s as somnambulant as Bowden The Elder himself, and Max Hall in his third year flashing 325 passing yards, this will be over fast, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be pretty.

#23 Georgia @ Arkansas

Holly: Mark Richt IS Edmond IN Edmond. Which is more to be feared? Evil Richt with a chip-shouldered, something-to-prove team or Bobby Petrino leading a squad of indeterminate quality? Depends, are we playing football? Georgia, but not without a few scares.

Orson: Bobby Petrino AS Willard IN Willard Actually, I just wanted to imagine Petrino as the king of Rats. (No reason! We swear!) Remember what happens when SEC East teams go to the West? Horrible, terrible, unpredictable things, for the most part, especially against an improving Arkansas squad. Holly says “scares;” we say “hordes of rats devouring Joe Cox.” Arkansas gets its first big scalp in the Petrino era in a shootout.

Texas Tech @ #2 Texas

Holly: Will Muschamp IS Ben Wade IN 3:10 to Yuma. Say, did you know these two teams have a history? Because it seemed very important last night in the midst of an actual football game being played on television at that moment that concerned neither Texas nor Texas Tech that we know Texas Tech and Texas have met before! I wonder how that turned out? Anybody hear? I’ll take a jittery McCoy over an unfinished Potts, though if he hadn’t gone and shaved his beard this would be a treacherous pick.

Orson: Taylor Potts IS Hudson IN Aliens. You want some Texas defense! (Discharges 5 TDs in a noble loss.) HUH BITCH? (Fires seventy passes constantly throwing until the final whistle.) Oh, now you want some? (Scanning for open receivers, sees none, tries to buy time.) IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? (Fires off fifteen yard completion as he his eaten and killed by Sergio Kindle.)

1. Catfish are wily. You know why some catfish grow to be a godzillion feet long under riverbanks, undisturbed for decades on end? Because they’re clever motherfuckers, that’s why. Won’t win any Academic All-American honors, but the catfish’s ability to quickly and accurately distinguish between friend and foe would prevent situations like, say, staring down and throwing directly to a UCLA cornerback when there’s a wide-open receiver ten goddamn yards away.

2. The physicality of a catfish is ideally suited to the Tennessee offense. We’re not asking for much this year. We have a stable of fine tailbacks, a depleted receiving corps, and a talented but overwhelmingly injured offensive line.   All Tennessee needs out of its quarterback is a marked lack of fuck-uppery, and we’ll be golden.  The large lower fins of the catfish are ideal for handoffs, and its lack of fingers will provide an added layer of security to the center exchange, something our current (5th-year) (D-IA) (starting) signal-caller has been apparently unable to master.  Additionally, the catfish’s long and sensitive whiskers will serve as ideal tools for detecting the pass rush.

3.  Even the physical limitations of starting a large fish at quarterback can be turned to Tennessee’s advantage. With no arms to speak of, the catfish cannot throw, but nor can he attempt to wing the ball behind him mid-sack like he’s motherfucking Joe Montana. Joe Montana, Jonathan Crompton is not. Nor is a catfish, but at least the catfish knows this.

4.  Catfish are a renewable resource. With the aforementioned O-Line woes, having a readily replaceable presence under center makes sense, in a conservative old-guard way sure to be appreciated by the Volunteer faithful.

5. Failing all else, catfish are delicious. If Saturday goes ill, no one would think twice about gutting, filleting, battering, and deep-frying a fish. Doing the same to humans is generally frowned upon.*

*unless in Baton Rouge, and no, we don’t play them this year.

—

PAID FOR BY The Orange Citizens For Catfish Quarterbacking Trust: Because you can’t teach football smarts, and you can’t fix football stupids.

—

Palin/Holtz ‘12: In your heart, you know it’d be hilarious.

What kind of a representative/VP would Sweet Lou be? Well, we already know he’d be a big fat no on the Kyoto Protocols. If his continuing close relationship with Notre Dame is any indication, we can also assume he’d swing solidly to the right on all the hot-button social issues — abortion, euthanasia, the right of Michigan and Ohio State fans to intermarry, that sort of thing. As far as clues from his actual coaching career, we can assume he’d be dedicated to building a strong national defense, but that he’d also follow a fairly strict non-interventionist policy (unless you can find any evidence that his South Carolina teams mounted any offense whatsoever). As far as we’re concerned, the wild card here is health care: If he’s going to run as a Republican, the obvious assumption is that he’s against Obama’s health-care proposal, but you have take into account his unclear stance on drug benefits and his casual distribution of advice (as a “Doctor” on ESPN) that was, at best, quasi-solicited — there’s a possibility he’d be down for a lot more government involvement there than the GOP would like. (All together now: MAVERICK!)

As for potential appointments or staff members, it’s probably early to be speculating on those as well, but one name seems like a pretty safe bet: Beano Cook as assistant for national security affairs, the Scooter Libby to Lou’s Dick Cheney? Yeah, you laugh now. Just see if he doesn’t.

Got that? Did you count up all the things that looked wrong? Good, now check the answer key after the jump and let’s see how you did:

1. It’s all about Sandra Bullock. Not that the woman Bullock plays, Leigh Anne Tuohy, wasn’t an integral part of the story Lewis told in his book; she worked as hard as, if not harder than, anyone to lift Michael Oher up out of poverty. But she wasn’t the main character in the book; she looks like she’s going to be the main character in the movie. And that probably means that . . .

2. We’ve got another white-woman-saves-poor-aimless-black-people story on our hands. You could, if you were so inclined, condense The Blind Side down to that very cursory description, and to some extent film adaptations can only ever be stripped-down, USA Today versions of the books on which they’re based, but still, The Blind Side was so much deeper and more complex than that. We could’ve gotten at least an attempt at translating that complexity to the screen, but instead it looks like what we’re going to get is a lot more along the lines of Sandra Bullock being, in the words of Jack Donaghy, “Michelle Pfeiffer to your angry black kid who learns that poetry is just another way to rap.”

3. The “You threaten my son, you threaten me” scene. Is my memory of the book completely faulty, or did that never actually happen? Someone telling Mike Oher to “sleep with one eye open”? What are your cheap gangsta theatrics doing in my peanut butter?

4. The use of The Fray’s “How to Save a Life” in the first part of the trailer. Of the grown men I’ve known who have ever expressed any affinity for that song (or The Fray in general), all of them fell into at least one of two categories: a) Guys who had at least circumstantial evidence against their heterosexuality and b) guys who played it on their guitars so they’d look brooding and sensitive enough to pull in chicks. I’ve kind of gotten off topic here, but the point is The Fray has no place in any film that purports to be about sports.

Bright spots? Well, Quinton Aaron looks suitably mountain-sized to pass as Michael Oher (no mean feat), and Sandra Bullock is smokin’ hot as a blonde. And there’s always the cameos by Saban and Orgeron to look forward to. (Window treatments FTW!) Otherwise, it looks suspiciously like we’ve got some heavy football movie/chick flick miscegenation going on here, and the outlook, as the Magic 8-Ball might say, is not good. We’ll have to save the final verdict for November 20, of course, but this grand jury is still prepared to at least hand down an indictment.

Cross-posted at Hey Jenny Slater.

Urban Meyer remembers two things in particular from his first road trip to Alabama in his first season at Florida.

But that pregame blast from the past didn’t speak as loudly as the postgame critics. They saw Alabama 31, Florida 3 as a sign that Meyer wasn’t going to change the future of the SEC.

Not a painting by Larry Pitts but an actual, unretouched photo, evidently.

HA HA SUCK IT MEYER RAMMER JAMMER HEY GATORS WE JUST BEAT THE HELL OUTTA YOUUUUU! Yeah, the rest of the story is a lot of stuff about the spread offense and about how it’s changing the SEC and blah blah blah, but no matter how dominating the spread becomes, it’ll never match the booming, beyond-the-grave voice of Paul W. Bryant in terms of sheer pants-crapping, bitchmaking terror.

Orrrr . . . maybe it will. Later on in the article:

“I think Florida has a great offense. I think it’s very difficult to defend. So I’m not being critical. But it is different.”

Alabama surrendered a season-high 31 points to both the Gators and the Utes and lost both games.

Christ, Bryant, where were you for those two games, guy? Perhaps the Bear really is like God: He answers all prayers, but sometimes the answer is no.

Track guy: Here, Coach. Hold the starter’s pistol for the photo, okay? You ready to go?

Jim Tressel: Oh, I’m past ready. I’ve passed the point of no return. Do you know what that is? That’s the point in a journey where it’s longer to go back to the beginning. It’s like when those astronauts got in trouble. I don’t know, somebody messed up, and they had to get them back to Earth. But they had passed the point of no return. They were on the other side of the moon and were out of contact for like hours. Everybody waited to see if a bunch of dead guys in a can would pop out the other side. Well, that’s me. I’m on the other side of the moon now and everybody is going to have to wait until I pop out.

Track guy: Um, that’s just a starter’s pistol, Coach. It can’t kill anyone.

[/pause]

Tressel: Oh, um…very well. Great work you’re doing here. Have a great day. (whistles, walks away.)

(HT: Jeff via this.)

Woody Hayes nude: censored because he was illegally beautiful.

Go ahead and call him ugly, Leonard…

“If the team lost or tied, he would conduct an interview in the nude,” said Downie, as reported in The Lantern. “He was an ugly guy so it would clear the locker room out pretty fast.”

But can’t you balance that with the kind of womanly compliment usually following a statement like this, as in “he was ugly…but Woody was always sexy,” or “A post-loss nude Woody Hayes conference was like staring into the sun: so intense and powerful you could only endure a few seconds of its awesome grandeur?” Mighty uncharitable, as we’re sure Professor Hayes, while lacking physical grandeur, had his own ramshackle physical charm about him. (”He has nice forearms! His eyes: have you seen his eyes?”)

As opposed to a Pete Carroll nude press conference, where presumably reporters would leave in tears of joy and awe saying things like, “It was so…beautiful…”, “like David, but better hung,” and “It was like watching a new child enter the world, but without the shitting and hideous afterbirth.”

[hit play, then read on for maximum effect]

If you’re of orange-and-white extraction and a relative young’un like me, you’ve enjoyed respectable if not notable football success for most of your cognizant life. You are also threatened by change, and you may not know what to make of this young whippersnapper Kiffykins strolling the sacred halls of Neyland. He’s arrogant; he’s got a funny accent; he delivers his addresses like an under-prepared sixth-grader giving a book report, and oooohweeee, has he ever stirred up a hornets’ nest in the papers.

But here’s a fun little test. On one side of an argument are Paul Finebaum and Gregg “Greg” Doyel; on the other, Bruce Feldman and Matt Hinton. Who would you rather have in your corner?

Finebaum:
I flipped on ESPN over the weekend and heard a national commentator refer to UT’s 33-year-old football coach as “Insane Lane.” Certainly that had to make an impression on upcoming high school seniors who might be considering UT in a few months.

Doyel:
A sharper coach, one with a better feel for himself and his business, wouldn’t go out of his way to tick off the one guy in the SEC who has the players, the style and the cruelty to get even on the field.

Feldman:
…do people really think because of this, Florida is going to REALLY try and rub it in UT�s face? Meyer was going to try to blow up the scoreboard regardless.

Hinton:
So even though I have no idea how many games Kiffin’s going to win this year at Tennessee (well, I have some idea), on some level I have to think anyone able to cause rival scribes to spill this much ink and drive a usually sensible Alabaman into the arms of Al Davis before his first spring game at a school that just went 5-7 with a loss to Wyoming must be doing something right.

Look, it’s February. We’re all hurting for content. But Finebaum is clearly set on ginning up pageviews in the lean months, and Doyel is flat acting the fool. The idea that the Florida-Tennessee rivalry, in particular, isn’t operating at a full-time haterade zenith already is frankly preposterous, and while I don’t expect more from Doyel, his readers should.

And what if they’re right? I have often said that, were I not born into a through-and-through Tennessee family, I’d like to be an LSU fan. I admire their joie de vivre, their willingness to bodily threaten women and children of opposing fanbases, their sheer cussedness that is never altered by numbers on a scoreboard. We orange faithful could stand to learn from the fine example of Baton Rouge. Too long have we meandered along in (relative) gentility, content to cheer lustily when games go our way and fall dead silent when down more than a touchdown.

No more.

Brothers and sisters, it’s time to relinquish the mantle of “the Michigan of the SEC”. Let’s see some hustle in here. Let’s see some fire in those dead eyes. Let’s see us trailing the Gators, the Tide, the Dawgs by thirty or more and screaming, “THAT ALL YEW GOT??” at their nearest fans. And in the meantime, let us laugh long and proud at all the ruffled petticoats Kiffykins is leaving in his wake. His apology to Meyer was deemed half-assed and disingenuous by everyone with a hot mic? GOOD. The man is fantastic television, and for this bounty of offseason entertainment, at least, we owe him our allegiance.

He’s young. He’s inexperienced. He’s running into walls left and right, but bless his heart, he’s doing it at full speed. Would we really want it any other way? Kiffykins may very well get run out of town on a rail, but if he goes down he’s going Cossack-style, and in the meantime he’s ours. Think for a moment and name the most hated men in the SEC: Meyer. Saban. Miles. Anyone sensing a pattern here? Now rejoice, damn you, Knoxville—we done got our very own prince of darkness. Freshly hatched though he may be, I f’ing love him for it.

Vawls, our path diverges. From here on out, I’m gonna have some fun with this. (To wit: I just compared Lane Kiffin to the head coaches of Florida, Alabama, and LSU; it was not an accident, and you can go to hell and die if you think we’re not beating them all a billionty to three (and Georgia, too) at the very next opportunity. See?� I’m telling you, this is the only way to live.) I hope to see many of you spitting and hollering and damning the torpedoes from here to August and beyond. The rest of you—well, if y’all like being pantywaists so damn much, I’m sure Vandy’s bandwagon can spare a few seats by now.

We’re off to the airport for Miami with the speed of angels driving a MARTA train, hoping to witness something as cold…as ice [/puts on sunglasses YEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!] in our beloved mythical national title game. With any luck, we’ll be waving a fistful of dollars at a cockfight by 1 a.m.

The horrifying wind tunnel sequence: watch at your own discretion.

Programming note: Swindle is flitting about the Metro ATL area like an overly excited, be-fauxhawked schoolgirl and I’m typing through a haze that makes me wish Prohibition had never been repealed. Here is some highly subjective and illogical soothsaying. Game thread up a little later. Go cure cancer.

#23 Pittsburgh @ Connecticut

HOLLY, FOR NO REAL REASON OTHER THAN LOLZ: The Wannstache is a master of his craft.� His craft is finding ways to lose juuuust enough games for no reason to make us all ignore him, then start winning just to piss us off. Pitt finds itself somehow sitting pretty at 8-3, and none of you had any idea, did you? Be that as it may, this is still the team that lost to Bowling Green.� Oooh, and Rutgers (and yes, we are very sorry we weren’t around for Mike Teel’s one-man show last night).� McCoy runs thisaway, Brown runs thataway, and this one’ll come down to whoever can kill enough of the clock in Q4. Huskies for the upset.

Navy vs. Army

HOLLY, INDIFFERENT (BUT PATRIOTIC, YOU BETCHA): Both teams can run. Both teams can also defend the run with relative ease. Neither one has had to pass, or had much success when trying all season.� Navy’s on a five-game streak against Army, but for the first time in a very long while the Black Knights (someone important please name our actual Army the Black Knights, all of it) ain’t that bad.� Navy, by force of habit.

#17 Boston College vs. #25 Virginia Tech

HOLLY, READY TO JETTISON THIS ENTIRE G-DAMN CONFERENCE INTO THE OCEAN FOR WHICH IT IS NAMED: We were tossing around the idea of taking a field trip to the ACCCG, purely because we were betting on getting prime seats somewhere in the $4.50 range and being able to drink ourselves stupid on television. You know what?� This game isn’t even worth watching for the novelty factor.� Pass.

Washington @ California

HOLLY, ONLY HALF-JOKINGLY APOLOGETIC: Look, we pick ten games and there’s not a whole lot in the way of choice this week.� Would you rather read about Western Kentucky-Florida International’s impending barnburner?� Me too, actually. Oh, and UW has this one chance to avoid going winless on the year, and it’s not a very good chance, because they are terrible. Fin.

#5 USC @ UCLA

HOLLY,� CAREFREELY MIXING METAPHORS: Palmam qui meruit ferat, lawyas. This’ll be fun.� USC’s taking their home jerseys to the Rose Bowl, shrugging off the two timeout penalty like it’s nothing, but in their defense, that’s only because it is nothing.� They will roll; they will roll large; Bruins Nation will lose their collective shit, again, and we will snicker at their righteous indignation for hours while sipping a variety of delicious cocktails. Yes, the football monopoly in Los Angeles is over, Bruins. It’s really more of a theocracy these days, and your graven idol is cardinal and gold.

It is to laugh!

#20 Missouri vs. #2 Oklahoma

HOLLY, HOOKING ‘EM: Mizzou.� Please?� I mean, we’ve seen this number once before this year, right?� Scary-ass Big XII South team stumbles badly against a slightly less well-regarded opponent? They can stop the run, can Mizzou, and Sam Bradford guarding torn ligaments in his spare hand might scorch the earth just a little bit less than he would at full strength (that’s assuming he can even hang onto the snaps this week).� Chase, buddy, you pull this one out and they’ll be carrying you through the streets of Kansas City on a P’Zone-encrusted pillow.� Doesn’t that sound like fun?

Arizona State @ Arizona

HOLLY, GRASPING AT MAYBE THE ONLY REMAINING STRAW WE HAVE: [to be read in your best In A World Guy voice]� In a season of madness….in a time of change….only one man….only one law…..stands between the forces of logic….and the destruction of all. we. know.� MIKE STOOPS.� LOSES FOOTBALL GAMES.� Rated PG-13.� Starts Saturday in selected desert stadia.

South Florida @ West Virginia

HOLLY, IN NO WAY PLOTTING A MORGANTOWN COUP FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF FIRING BILL STEWART, THEN PEACEFULLY SURRENDERING TO THE AUTHORITIES WITH THE SATISFACTION OF A JOB WELL DONE: Any AFC loyalists in the house? Got, say, a New England fan in your life who continually crows about how terrible the conditions are at Gillette and how that somehow makes his team superior because geography dictates they occasionally play in snow? I hate that shit.� Tomorrow, though?� It’s going to be 20ish degrees at kickoff in Morgantown, and that’s an edge West Virginia will desperately cling to if they know what’s good for them, because if there’s one thing Bill Stewart could fuck up better than everything else he’s fucked up this year (WHICH IS SAYING SOMETHING), it’s Pat White’s curtain call.� Things work out best for the Mountaineers lately with White operating as shadow-coach, so just enjoy your Ovaltine, Stewie, and let darling Pitty-Pat’s little legs power you through to an eight-win season that should’ve been at least eleven.� YOU FUCKING USELESS CRETIN BOBBLEHEAD REBOUND BITCH.� [deep, calming breaths]

Happy trails, sweet warrior.

#13 Cincinnati @ Hawaii

HOLLY, CHEERING FOR ORANGE BEAR/CAT HYBRIDS OUT OF REFLEX:
We’re fairly baffled, still, as to why this game is even on the schedule, but TOP SCORE to whoever’s responsible on the Cincy end for getting those poor kids out of Ohio in December (and down to Florida in January, come to that).� Also, they will trounce Hawaii, and it will not matter, even to Hawaii, who has already accepted an invitation to the Hawaii Bowl Hawaii Hawaii.� Hawaii.

#1 Alabama vs. #4 Florida

HOLLY, PRETTY RATIONAL CONSIDERING THE CIRCUMSTANCES: So here come the only worthy contenders, nearly unbloodied after a season in bat country, to face their first and only real test of the year.� I’m taking the Gators.� They haven’t blinked or flinched since that unfortunate Giggitying in September, haven’t been caught sleepwalking once, which is more than I can say for the Tide even though they’re the undefeated squad. Nothing save that one Ole Miss game has been remotely close, all year. In their eleven victories,� they’ve outscored their opponents by an AVERAGE of thirty-seven (37) points.� And while the competition hasn’t been the stiffest, what should scare Tide faithful is how much time Florida’s had to workshop this machine all year. When you’re up five scores it leaves plenty of spare minutes on the clock to tweak, experiment, and hone your freakshow war engine to whiplash perfection.

(All the same, I’m still cheering for the meteor.� Which ain’t all that farfetched, since the last time Swindle was in the Georgia Dome, this happened.)

Look at Jeff Sagarin’s site, and just block out the words for an instant. The HTML HOTT style indicates the devoted efforts of someone who, in another life, would make the exact same site to tubthump about any of the following:

–Vaccine conspiracy theories

–Boundary theory and its implications on the global capitalist system

–Genital pumping FAQs

–The fixed earth theory.

The Sagarin site really is similar to the Fixed Earth site–scarily so. The Sagarin site also has the ACC as the second strongest conference right now. Could God have engineered something like that for the real Earth? WE THINK NOT FIXED EARTH NOW!!! Sagarin also has JMU above Notre Dame YES FIXED EARTH NOW IT IS NOT ROTATING BECAUSE THAT IDEA IS CRAZY.

Also, the formal, think-y take on Fulmer’s downfall at TSB. A commenter actually has a good point: The Phil Pharewell Tour commences, and could be good mojo for sending him out with a bowl trip.