Okay, being the premiere football program of the decade may not be all humdrum excellence and hourly romps with ruthlessly waxed, polymorphously perverse and willing sex partners. There are thrilling, unpredictable things happening on the field, and one of them is sophomore cornerback Shareece Wright, one of our nominees for Concussion Farmer of the Year thus far.
We’re not saying he hit him in bounds, or even hit him in a legal or intelligent way. We’re not even saying he didn’t hit him off the bench, actually–judging from the video, Wright could have been chugging down a blueberry and asskicking excellence flavored protein shake on the sidelines at the start of the play and then rushed over to hit Locker, for all we can tell.
However, he did hit him really, really, really hard, and it certainly looked awesome enough.(Rules be damned!) Get him to pay attention to the white lines on the field and stop attempting to become the second coming of Kevin Everett by leading with the helmet as he’s wont to do, and we’ll be talking hot magical pain pancakes in cleats here. They don’t hand out new spinal cords, you know, though they do sell slightly used ones in Tijuana.
You’re going to watch it, anyway, you sick, sick person. However, like the informed observer you are, you’re going to watch and enjoy it thanks to our list of eight totally true things, since you’ve already decided not to go to the gym, spend time with your significant other, or remain sober tonight. Good for you, trooper!
Why, yes, they’re leaking right now, thank you very much.
8. Dennis Franchione is under so much pressure his teats leak condensed milk constantly. (This usually requires some firm pressure with a gloved hand. Food safety starts with you!)
7. Up to fifty thousand people to attend, the second largest gathering that night in Miami and the largest not involving muscular chickens with razors strapped to their ankles. Wait, there’s a Mets/Marlins game? Okay, third largest, and second largest without the death chickens, okay?
6. Stephen McGee, dual threat quarterback, finally embodies all that A&M fans truly want in a quarterback: tough, fast, able to run the option, and white.
5. Aggie Corps of Cadets could be mistaken for immigration officials, causing thousands in stands to flee in panic.
4. Aggie Corps of Cadets could be mistaken for DEA officers, causing thousands in stands to flee in panic.
3. Aggie Corps of Cadets could be mistaken for Russian Tax Police, causing thousands in stands to flee in panic.
2. Kyle Wright is starting tonight, and will save the groundskeeping crew time and effort by trimming the grass one underthrown ball at a time.
1. 270 pound Jorvorskie Lane will score a diving touchdown. Sadly, the impact will shatter the limestone bedrock of Miami, spoiling the Florida Aquifer and making the city unsafe for human habitation. Unsurprisingly, no one living in Miami will notice this.
It’s Hate week 3.0 on EDSBS, meaning that we play Tennessee on Saturday, and can’t sleep for the bloodrage we’re working up prior to the game. Join us and make INGSOC triumphant.
We give you chapter two of the Chairman’s manual with Reasons 1-25 Florida Rules and Tennessee Sucks Forever. Because they do, indeed, suck forever, sometimes as a football team, sometimes as a state, but most pleasingly to the Florida fan, when they suck together all at the same time in one sorrowful, audible slurp.
1. Tennessee is shaped like a parallelogram. Florida, however, is “America’s Wang.” And where would America be without its wang?
2. Florida great Steve Spurrier is a Volunteer State exile (Johnson City), meaning that the greatest coach ever born in Tennessee ran screaming from it the first chance he got, and never came back. There’s no humor there. It just really sucks for you, Vol fan, and makes us warm and happy inside.
3. Even after thirty years of government interdiction, Florida’s still putting the yayo on your glass coffee tables in piles, America. You’re welcome (sniff).
4. We gave you Creed in order to make you feel good about your own life in a fun way, as in “I’m not Scott Stapp, and that’s great, really.” Nashville gives you music to help you justify your sad, tobacco-stained penniless existence, prole…um, we mean ain’t it great scraping by on 22K with three kids in a place with terrible public schools! WOOOO!!! VOTE PAPPY FOR GUVNAH!!!
5. Our coach has won a championship in the 21st century. (more…)
We have no words of comfort. For comfort, go to mom, or better yet, Oprah. Or better yet, fire your motherfucking coach once the nadir turns into the midpoint when you lose to Michigan State by thirty, or (Jebus forbid!) Notre Dame next week, or to whomever else would snap the creaky back of the Carr Administration at this point. You’ll still suck, but you’ll have cut off someone’s head–and coachblood makes the wounded fan’s heart sing every time.
Instead of comfort, we focus on one seemingly cosmetic but terribly important thing. We watched the Oregon game, hoping to be that Oprah type person: rooting for the downtrodden, pulling for the wounded little meerkat, you know, falling prey to our national genetic predilection for the underdog/comeback kid. And for an instant we were there, until we saw this:
!!!!
This would be less appalling if it were alumni…but STUDENTS JINGLING KEYS? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Young, healthy people with clean, fully-functioning lungs JINGLING KEYS TO MAKE NOISE!!!! My god, why don’t you hire Salvadorans to come yell for you? Or better still, they could just come in and cheer for you while you watch the game in the parking lot in peace and quiet and save you the trouble of screaming “DOWN IN FRONT!!!” (Because that would hurt your lungs, wouldn’t it?)
Yes, this is coming from a boorish, decorum-free SEC fan whose fellow fans bring cowbells to games and set off seismometers at the geology department during games in between handing out sociology and leisure management degrees to illiterate, well-muscled athletes. It is also directed at a school in a conference where some schools actually cheer their asses off and force teams into penalties with crowd noise. And some Michigan fans have been railing about this for way, way longer than we have.
Don’t blame the architecture either. Instead, scream. At this point, you should be screaming, anyway. Who cares if it’s at your coach? Notre Dame doesn’t have to know that. This is football. Blood. Screaming. Tribal violence. Bizarre rites and rituals. Put away the keys. Pick up the torches. Less Roman, more Vandal, dammit!
The full–and we mean really, really full–Fulmer Cup report comes later today. But we must pre-empt and give you this amuse bouchefrom the blotter in South Bend, Indiana, where there actually are prostitutes.
Derrell Hand, 20, a University of Notre Dame defensive end/nose tackle, was arrested and jailed Thursday afternoon for allegedly propositioning a prostitute.
Hand, who was suspended indefinitely from the team Friday, was released from the St. Joseph County Jail on $250 bond Thursday.
Go pimp one for the gipper, nurse. He’s fading.
Hand was picked up as part of a sting operation by the South Bend police department. His defense should be that he merely speaks like that to not only every woman he meets, but every man, as well, as part of an undiagnosed Tourette’s tic.
Judge: How do you plead, defendant?
Hand: Ho, you know how we do. Payin’ to play, want it today, cash on the way whaddya say?
Judge: One more outburst like that and you’ll be found in contempt of court, Mr. Hand.
Hand: Whateva, trick, fat dick that’s sick gotta spit one quick before I flip. How much?
We’d call it Irvin syndrome if we hadn’t cried like a pussy watching the Playmaker get inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame and ask his wife and kids for forgiveness for being a less than perfect father. (Sniff.) Hand should just go ahead, transfer to BYU, get a DWC in Provo, and therefore unify the “inadvisable crime to commit at religious college” title belts.
“I feel like I just crapped a pineapple”–those were the words of Ronald Reagan after pushing through a particularly contentious piece of legislation in his first term, and they reflect our own feelings as the Tennessee Volunteers finally grace the Fulmer Cup with their esteemed presence.
We’ll open the bidding with a question: what’s hard, made of cocaine, and looks like crack and was found on the dashboard of walk-on Tennessee football player and rhymes with crack? If you said crack, you’re obviously a felon. Turn yourself in now. If you do it in Knoxville, you might share a bunk with Justin Jackson, who can now look forward to being sexed by inmate Barry and his delightful selections of homemade toilet wine.
It’s crack. It gets you high.
Tennessee football walk-on Justin Jackson has been dismissed from the team after he was arrested on charges of selling crack cocaine, university officials said Thursday.
He sells cocaine! Ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-kaayeaahhaawwwww!!! Phil Fulmer, who is very, very fat, has kicked Jackson off the team, a punishment Urban Meyer described as “harsh.” For actual selling of motherfucking holy shit CRACK, the Tennessee Vols will receive 3 points for selling narcotics and one point for the longstanding crack bonus. (Crack always gets a bonus point, because crack is…crack, worthy of a point unto itself.) He also got a generic weed charge, tacking two points on for a total of six points in all for the Vols.
Not enough to even get them on the big board amidst this year’s stiff competition, but enough to make us feel like the world is close to spinning on its correct axis. We feel like we just woke up to the promise of a new day, as if the universe were made suddenly whole and right in a single act. (Exhale.) We would like to ask you to join us by standing up in your office chair right now, clicking the jump, and engage in an office dance party to celebrate the circle of life, and deliver an important anti-drug message, too. Remember, people: you don’t have to smoke crack to have a good time. (more…)
Countless Africans really are wandering the streets of Lagos and Lome wearing “USC: BACK 2 BACK CHAMPIONS!!!” and “BRADY QUINN: HEISMANTASTIC!!!” t-shirts. Or at least we like to think so after reading about how hypothetical merchandise like “Buffalo Bills: Super Bowl Champs” tees and hats wind their way down the supply chain and onto the backs of Malian herdsmen.
An eagle-eyed reader saved one such example of neverwas memorabilia for us, however, and sent it post-haste to the Swindle Reptile Farm on Highway 78. The taste is a bit fresher on this one, however, and endlessly sweet for us.
Busted Memorabilia presents: the “Make Florida an Urban Myth” t-shirt.
It’s one of the most magical times of the year: you wake up, and there’s just a hint of summer in the air. The bees buzz, the birds warble…perhaps you hack up a thick ball of pollen-encrusted mucus, if you’re fortunate enough to live in an allergen hell like Atlanta.
And then, the children run down the street, clutching white papers with baby blue print on the letterhead: THE APR’S OUT! THE APR’s OUT!!!
Jump for joy, piglet! The APR’s out!
The NCAA’s attempt to quantify the reconciliation of athletics and academics did indeed come out yesterday, and it lives up to its reputation again as being one of the sternest, least forgiving gauges of academic performance in small schools never hoping to even play in a bowl game or sell a single piece of NCAA merchandise. The letters stand for Academic Progress Rate, but we can substitute any number of better source words for the acronym APR:
The last one is particularly apt. The schools receiving the most serious scholarship penalties and Myles Brand finger-wagging all come from college sport’s Christmas Islands: Northern Arizona University, Texas Southern, Tennessee-Chattanooga, San Jose State…and most snidely, HBCUs and schools affected by Hurricane Katrina. (Myles Brand doesn’t care about black people! ) Oh, and FIU and Georgia Southern. Those puppies got kicked, too. (more…)
With spring behind us and only the long, slow, sad hibernation of summer ahead of us, the college football fan has options now. You could focus on your job, spend quality time with your family, or even volunteer your time for a local nonprofit of your choice. Or you could grow tomatoes? Ya ever thought about that?
Of course you haven’t, because some grubby dude in a field is working his balls off right now spraying gallons of deadly, carcinogenic insecticide on zillions of tomatoes baking in the subtropical sun just to get you a huge beefsteak to crown your hamburger. We didn’t crawl from the muck to grow our own food. We did it because as fish with protofeet and sprouting lungs, we had the dream that one day we could cruise Rivals.com all day slobbering at the hypothetical games we’re going to be watching, being the unproductive monkeys all mudskippers dream of being.
And for us, graduate mudskippers, 2007 will be large, large, large. Like Maradona 2007 large. But like Maradona, you’ll get fat not just on quality nutrition, but on the junk food of the schedule, too. Here’s our pair of fattening, non-value games from week one that you’ll watch anyway for all the wrong reasons.
Like, Maradona-large. England points and laughs.
Washington at Syracuse. 8 p.m., ESPN.
Animal, mineral, or vegetable? Vegetable. But it’s the first day of the season, so trainwrecking will pass for entertainment. Syracuse’s horrible, no good, very, very bad offense (worst in the Big East) meets Washington’s crapulent defense (worst in the Pac-10, unless you count Stanford, which we don’t.) This means you may be experiencing physical pain at the end of the second quarter. Breathe deep and push through it, since the ending will likely entail something so gorily inept you’ll kick yourself for not seeing it. This year’s version of Iowa/Syracuse 2006, where you may remember the only goal line stand we’ve ever seen where we didn’t so much credit the defense as excommunicate the offense from the church of decent offense.
Animal correlative: Like watching a toothless old mountain lion attempt to eat a porcupine. Whoever loses last, wins.
West Virginia vs. Marshall. ESPN/ESPN2, TBD.
Animal, mineral, or vegetable?VROOM! Mineral, as in hammered steel pistons pumping out record lap times at Talladega. What had been a slightly substantial rivalry has dimmed to an annual skullknocking with last year’s 42-10 headkicking being a prototypical example of what happens to Marshall when they play a Rich Rodriguez team.
Everyone loves a good sprinting slaughter, though, which this promises to be. Let us remind you that Steve Slaton, repaired wrist and all, will be back with Pat “Meow” White, Darius Reynaud, and incoming phonics champion Noel Devine taking the field in one capacity or another. We haven’t even touched on West Virginia’s improving wideouts. Though Marshall knows exactly what West Virginia will do–run, run, run, run–a team that went “4-7…in the highly competitive Conference-USA” stands little to no chance of getting out of the first quarter without tasting the jet wash of Slaton or White busting multiple sixty yarders on the defense.
Ask the Wannstache, and he will say the same, twitching his mustache all the while.
Animal correlative? A leopard seal ripping a penguin in half.
We begin this tale with the facts involving two TCU players cited for misdemeanor weapons charges in Texas. A rent-a-cop named K.D. Willingham, moonlighting from his day job as a Ft. Worth police officer, approached Robert Leandro Henson, 21, and Stephen Eugene Hodge, 19, both players on TCU’s Horned Frogs football team. (HT: Tomek.)
According to the police report, Willingham saw Henson holding a black handgun. Henson handed the gun to Hodge, according to the report, who “raised the firearm into the air and fired several rounds.” Willingham then identified himself as a Fort Worth police officer, pointed a shotgun at Hodge and told him to put the gun down, according to the report.
The conversation had to go something like this.
Henson: Whew, I’m tired, man.
Hodge: Yeah. Beat. Hey, what’s that?
Henson: My new nine. Wanna see it?
Hodge: Sure. (Takes gun) Is it loaded?
Henson: Nah, man. I’m not dumb, right?
Hodge: So I could take it like this and just (BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM)
Officer: FREEZE!!! POLICE!!!
Hodge: Um, you were wrong. That gun was loaded.
Henson: Shit.
Stop hatin’, five-oh. Those bullets go straight into space.
The Horned Frogs are assessed two points for the incident, as this is Texas and wantonly discharging a firearm seems to belong in a class of crimes loosely classified as “party gone out of bounds.” Henson did, however, have three outstanding Class C warrants at the time of his arrest, so perhaps a bonus point for stupidity is in order? Sure. Bonus point plus two for Kenneth Tookes Target Practice = three total for TCU, making their entry into Fulmer Cup 2007.
Addendum: don’t laugh! When frogs and guns meet, people get hurt.
POOF! Points be gone, though we still hope someone ends up puking their guts out for weeks on end during mat drills as a result of whatever happened in this case–and not because they’re hung over off all the stolen beer sloshing around in their stomach.
Hoping for something like this at mat drills.
Free money in Ames, Iowa! YAAAAYYYY!!! That seemed to the extent of the thought process for three Iowa State players caught pilfering goods from a purse left on a city bus. Caught either by witnesses or videotape, the three players (all redshirt freshmen) are charged with fifth-degree theft, which is just one degree of theft away from a White Elephant holiday party.
A point each equals three for the Cyclones in their slightly lame debut on the board. Welcome to head coaching, Gene Chizik.
Colorado State says fuck your couch, lawya. No Fulmer Cup points for basketball offenses, but we must mention Colorado State for something other than their ability to bulldoze four-year olds in spring scrimmages. Xavier Kilby, CSU basketball player, was arrested on suspicion of felony menacing and prohibited use of weapons following an incident early Sunday morning involving teammate Ronnie Aguilar.
…Kilby and Aguilar got into an argument in the living room and that Kilby pulled out a small revolver, pointed it at Aguilar’s head and then pointed the gun at a couch and discharged the weapon.
Fuck your couch, indeed. Kilby’s been suspended pending investigation. (HT: Rory.)
“It was kind of scary ’cause I got bonked by the football. It kind of hurted.”
We pray the reporter writing this made this up, because children do not and should not speak like this. If they do, heaps of assy shame must fall on the parents, who no doubt egged him on by saying “OOOhhhh, isn’t that just precious?” It starts with accepted bad grammar; it ends with him stealing cars and slinging his seed around like so much confetti before ending up in prison or–heaven forbid–business school.
It hurted! Goddammit, bad grammar gets us peeved. You go, George Hill. Hit him again–this time, it’s for Strunk and White.
This week’s Fulmer Cup Board, courtesy of reader Brian. Addenda and corrections follow:
Notes, apologies, corrections, pleas for help…
Toledo possibly needs their points shaved…since the point shaving charges against them are “on hold” according to investigators. It’s unknown whether this is fishing for an immunity/plea bargain thingy to pursue the ringleaders of the points-shaving scandal at Toledo or just legal futzing around. For the purposes of Fulmer Cup scoring, we’ll hold them until something more definitive comes out regarding the case.
You don’t disrespect the roller rink without consequences. Arky State booms in the polls due to a parking lot brawl at a roller skating rink. They earned the points fair and square, but as someone with deep, lovely memories of rocking out to “Lookin’ At the Front Door” while clumsily bounce-skating, the penalty for violating the sanctity of a roller rink seems paltry.
LSU, up like Lexington Steele. With Illinois so far out as a result of the work of two very, very active “acquisition experts,” we’re resorting to NASCAR-style announcing and hyping the second and third place spots as “the real race.”
LSU has made impressive strides to climb to nine points. Florida and Michigan are in a duel for second place with no real challengers besides the Bayou Bengals. The lone rogue wave here could be the Penn State burglary case, which may or may not yield huge points for the Nittany Lions. We’ve given up on actually seeing any points from that or the Cory Boyd gun-waving case out of South Carolina.
Dennis? Where the Sun Devils are in all this is beyond us. Perhaps it takes a few months for Dennis Erickson’s mojo to spread around campus, but in a place with porn stars on campus and a reputation as being a Sodom and Gomorrah with financial aid, ASU’s absence seems very strange to us.
Spurrier, born with a needle in hand, continues to perform the tasks of goader-in-chief even as he works at a completely different university a state removed from his alma mater. If someone has to, we suppose it should be the OBC.
Again: people in other conferences have no idea what a joy this man is–until now, thanks to some cross-conference flaming poo-tossage done by Herr Ballcoach himself. From the Gainesville Sun:
The former UF ball coach slipped in a “we” when twisting the knife into Ohio State, which lost both the football and basketball championships to Florida.
“We’ve kind of turned Ohio State into Runner-up U., haven’t we?” said Spurrier, a Gator alumnus.
Even when he’s putting from a distance, Spurrier scores.
Hell naw! Well, of course he said it–divas grab the spotlight when they can, and Spurrier’s a regular Edith Piaf/Celine Dion type in that regard. He even still says “we” there, as the article notes. The quote was also delivered just prior to a round of golf, natch. (more…)
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Orson Swindle and Stranko Montana are two men pushing thirty who should know better than to run a college football blog, but evidently don't. Both graduated from the University of Florida, and both agree that college football is far too important to be left to the professionals.
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Why, yes, they’re leaking right now, thank you very much.
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