St. Petersburg has a new bowl game, and we have one number for you, people: $350,000. Yes, all it takes to turn the as-yet-unnamed St. Pete Bowl into the EDSBS Bowl is a measly $350,000 in any currency. Imagine the splendor:

Flyby done by: A low-flying dirigible. Extra spice will be added when hundreds of turkeys are pushed from the blimp onto the stands.

Alternative flyby: Fat bikers in hang gliders holding sparklers. Did we mention they were naked and drunk, too?

Sponsors would include: Zybrowka Vodka, RoboTussin PM (for nightlife!), Cocaine Cowboys, the official bloodcokeumentary of EDSBS, Mercenaries 2, Burning Angel, and Chik-Fil-A. Goddamn, Chik-Fil-A is good. (Get it? Get it?)

Game announcers: Play-by-play: Ron Franklin, but only if we get to shoot him up with ketamine first. Color commentary: CNN commentator Richard Quest, fresh out of rehab with the volume turned up. Sideline reporter: Stephen Hawking.

Halftime entertainment: Tampa Bay’s own Morbid Angel.

For children, an alternate show will be provided outside with the Veggie Tales and special guest Deicide.

Goodie bag will include: one can of Busch Light, one tube bronzer, one pair old man blast goggle sunglasses, a scoop of ropa vieja ladled on top of everything.

All for just $350K, reader. If wishes were horses, people, we’d be running our own glue factory at this point. Let’s make this horse a winner. If everyone who reads this blog just sends in one dollar, we’ll have enough to make me only ask for a dollar TEN TIMES EACH. If Paultards can raise eight zillion dollars and get their own blimp, we can make this dream a horrifying, weeping reality.

(Actually, the Ron Paul Bowl would be uproariously funny, especially because the field wouldn’t have lines.)

Thank you, Jim Delany. No one wanted a playoff anyway:

We’re not convinced a pure playoff is the solution, but here’s what’s already happened with the BCS. First, we started off with a pig. Then, the pig was given rollerskates. Then, the rollerskate-pig received a transplant of an alligator’s snout. Once the pig’s head proved to be too heavy with the alligator’s snout, a counterweight was added at the tail in the form of sack of buckshot stapled to its tail.

At this point, the plus one would be sewing another head onto the allipigrollerskatebuckshot beast. But at this point, why not ask Dr. Frankenbowl to break out the staple gun and make it happen? We’re already talking about relative degrees of absurdity. The real problem (Carville) is that the other pig (still) is (hates) the Rose Bowl, and that head’s not coming off without some unbelievable gore.

Dude. Title game. Join us for the liveblog over at the Sporting Blog, featuring quarter by quarter updates from bars full of Ohio State and LSU fans. We’re doing the watching in that order precisely to avoid getting killed as a Florida fan and to avoid pepper spray. That shit feels like you inhaled a bushel of tacks when it hits.

(HT on the pic: LSUFreek.)

I win and I get…fruit? What the fuck is this shit?

We’re still a bit dazed from watching two teams labeled WARNING! DEFENSIVE CONTENT! last night. A snap pick and return on a lamely thrown curl route? A safety making a pick? Contested interior blocking? A combined over/under below fifty? We did not come screaming on fire to this planet to write a blog called Every Day Should Be Sunday, sirs and madams!

Fortunately, after a mid-game conversation with SMQ, our admiration/shock at the amount of defense played waned a bit as we also realized that neither offense in the game really offered any great shakes either. A few notes:

One: Virginia Tech’s traitorous offense. And has for a long time. We understand the pound the rock, kill the clock philosophy, and how well it meshes with the defense, the special teams blah blah blah…but with eleven minutes left in the game, down 24-14, and the ball in Sean Glennon’s hand, VT only had the defensive half of the formula needed to win the game. It felt like watching clear doom descend over the team–one could almost see it in the droop of shoulders and in the stance of the defense on the sidelines, the defense that for all intents and purposes only allowed seven points. They were waiting for the offense to sell them down the river the whole fourth quarter. They did.

Mmm, love that rodeo tacklin’. In the third quarter all of Virginia Tech’s defenders were glowing with video game bonus. At one point–we think this was Barry Booker–a massive DT grabbed hold of Todd Reesing and fucking German Suplexed him, spinning the qb across his hip and onto the back of his neck with a judo champ’s skill. Last night at one point the announcers debated whether they’d ever seen an academic All-American defensive tackle. We can’t think of one, but we do know one who can pull a wrestling move in the middle of a football play, and that’s kind of awesome, too.

Todd Reesing is plucky. Not overwhelmingly talented–as Mangino just went out and said about his team in the postgame–but plucky and just mobile, tough, and mean enough to keep chains moving and try throws that had NFL scouts breaking out the really, really red markers to write “HIGH RISK” across his profile. He had ten rushes for something like -6 yards, but many of those rushes were the crucial scrambles and keepers that kept chains moving. He looked like the world’s most badass high school QB playing at the college level, which on a defensive team is more than enough.

Two great tastes that taste great together: Sean Glennon’s pocket presents/ Kansas’ d-line. Glennon alternately scrambles his way out of and into trouble–more than any other qb we’ve seen he replicates video game AI qb perfectly, sometimes bouncing around for maddening escapes and first downs, and then just as often stepping directly into a forearm shiver. With Kansas’ line blowing through Tech’s all night, we got to see examples of this all night.

It was enough to make you a little ill.

The Gatorade Defense. There will not be a fat joke here. There will not be a fat joke here. There will…aw, fuck it. There’s totally a fat joke here. They didn’t douse Mangino with Gatorade because he’d swell, because he’d absorb it all, because it would boil off his 214 degree body with visible steam, searing bystanders, they didn’t do it because he’d eat the jug…whatever. It’s a testament both to his control-freaky, no Mr. Nice Guy personality and to his preparation that Mangino actually had some assistant ready to block the Gatorade. Then again, to drag Kansas from football purgatory and into the Orange Bowl, being a controlling dick is most likely a prerequisite for the job.

Pro-Kansas ad: waves of grain in the background. Swelling Aaron Copland chords.

What is the problem with Kansas? Nothing at all, we think.

Kansas learned about hard work the hard way in his upbringing in the heartland, struggling from the bottom of the Big 12 all the way up to Harvard Law. Kansas, while possessing the sixth-ranked rushing defense in the nation, became the youngest attorney general in the history of the state, a position he used to punish BAD PEOPLE like drug dealers, pedophiles, and opposing quarterbacks, thus making his state SAFER for good, family-values quarterbacks like Todd Reesing.

Kansas believes in protecting its borders, which explains why Todd Reesing has suffered only a modest 20 sacks this year and thus protected his handsome golden locks. Kansas also believes in controlling its own destiny, forcefully imposing their vision of football freedom on opponents with fullback in tailback’s clothes Brandon McAnderson, and protect the health of their second ranked national scoring offense with a superb linebacking corps on defense and All Big 12 James McClinton on the defensive line.

Kansas : SAFER NOT LIKE TERRORISTS OR THE GAYS AND EVOLUTION. Or worse still, A HALF-FISH, HALF GAY MUSLIM CRAWLING FROM THE WATER WITH A UNIVERSAL HEALTH CARE IN HIS HAND AND WEARING DYNAMITE.

Instead of asking what’s wrong with 11-1 Kansas…maybe you should be asking yourself…what’s Virginia Tech hiding behind, HMMMMM? They can’t protect themselves against Tigers–what would they do against Osama Bin Laden, hmmmmm?

Vote SAFER. Vote Kansas.

[END]

Loves Freedom, Babies, Free Markets, and Velour Track Suits: Kansas.

We review our email over at the Sporting News and discover that having a Spencer Hall attitude is not a good thing, especially when you tangle with the media monster that is Shreveport, Louisiana. We beg to differ, especially since we’re not voting for Hillary, but supporting our usual candidate for every public office: Big Red.

Thom Brennaman: And they’re off the boats. Welcome to D-Day.

My that’s some bombardment there. There’s men firing guns, and some other men firing guns. And there’s a beach, and boats, and men coming out of the boats.

Please watch Prison Break, the most exciting show on Fox. It’s really exciting.

D-Day, brought to you only as Fox can!

The Americans seem to be laying down here. Yes, they’re laying down. Some of the men aren’t moving. This is because they’ve been shot by the Germans. They Germans are firing guns at the Americans.

Charles Davis: Wow! Bang!

Thom Brennaman: And now there’s a mortar being fired. The shell goes into the mortar, and at that point it flies out of the mortar. It goes into a crowd of people. Wow, they don’t look. Happy.

And here’s a tank. It’s a big thing with a lot of metal on it and people don’t seem to be very happy with it.

Charles Davis: No they don’t, Thom! That tank is tanky!

Thom Brennaman: More shooting. There’s screaming, and man that guy can scream. He’s screaming because he’s shot. You’re looking live at D-Day, brought to you by Fox.

Charles Davis: Exploding is explosive, Thom.

Thom Brennaman: Yes, it is. I don’t condone any of this, because it is bad.

Charles Davis: Yes it is.

Thom Brennaman: Yes, bad is bad. And good things are good.

Charles Davis. Yes.

Thom: Yes. There’s a lot of men shooting here. Wouldn’t you agree, Charles?

Charles: …

Thom: Charles?

Charles: Sorry, your voice is so lulling. Even with all the gunfire, you put me to sleep like a fistful of fucking vicodin, Thom

Thom: Yes. Gunfire. Vicodin. Back after this commercial break.

D-Day is brought to you by Fox,

10:31: Sean McDonough is joking about using his golf voice for those of us who might have been “overzealous” last night. Between this and Chris Spielman’s befuddled look and greenish skin, we’re already pleased with the way the broadcast has started.

And Auburn is the most intimidating, tough, and well-coached shitty team ever. If you’re going to beat them, beat them by thirty, not three–they do not lose close games. It’s against several potentially unConstitutional local laws in the Opelika area. Kodi Burns bailed out Auburn in overtime with a run out of their month old spread attack, because let’s face it Auburn doesn’t even really need an offense. Once they went up 3-0, Tuberville goes into shutdown mode and lets monsters like Pat Sims loose for the rest of the gameplan.

Oh, and [NAME REDACTED] just told a player to “stand around fast.”

10:55 a.m.: Corso picks Hawaii.

11:06: Heath Shuler introduces the Tennessee lineup, meaning that not only is Tennessee without key players, they’re also in favor of LETTING GAY TERRORISTS RUN THIS COUNTRY.

11:27: Tennessee scores on a Tebow smash play. “That offense’ll never work in the ESS-EEE-SEE!” Those who would still like to say this may go back to taping this game on Betamax.

11:35: Donovan runs in a TD for Wisconsin and gets a faceful of Eric Berry’s shoulder on the way in, because it is a physical law that if you touch the ball for the other team, Eric Berry gets to cause you harm. Rob Stone reports that as a possibly concussed Donovan is being looked at by Badgers medical staff, players were calling the hit “tasteless.”

Heavens! They don’t even stop for tea and crumpies in the third quarter!

11:45: They’re letting the AT&T Chairman toss the coin at the Cotton Bowl. If he’s true to AT&T form, it will be dropped, and then he will pocket the coin and charge both teams for a new one.

11:52: Casey Dick’s passes float like the slow ball Bugs Bunny used to strike out the New York Giants. It hangs up there so long they should sell advertising on it. And for some odd reason, we’ve heard the piano key Windows error message noise on the Fox broadcast three times in the past minute. Arkansas driving methodically on a permissive Missouri D.

12:05 p.m.: Tennessee’s innovative “Maim Tyler Donovan” defensive gameplan seems to be working beautifully. They’ve already opened up a cut on his non-throwing hand and possibly concussed him, as well. Holly points out that on the Ainge TD throw, Tennessee likely could have had a TD on the draw, too: Wisconsin’s defense is getting clumpy and neglecting their spacing.

12:14 p.m.: Tyler Donovan completes a year’s worth of injuries by planting quite possibly the most awkward qb slide evah into the Outback Bowl turf, stutter-stepping, and then doing something very, very nasty to his knee as it bent backward beneath him. At this point Rob Stone is twirling the rosary through his hands and addressing the lord in rapid Spanish for Donovan’s health.

12:24 p.m. : Tyler Donovan is back. He’s gaining strength from the power of his mother’s profanity, caught at least three times on air thus far.

12:33: Keep cussin’, ma: Donovan throws a TD to put Wisconsin back within a score in the Outback. We’re haunted by the sight of Bucky the Badger at the head of a corporate meeting table. He looked powerful and malevolent in the Wisconsin commercial, like the leader of S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Note to CEOs: when you have to start cutting heads, do it wearing a mascot outfit. It’ll be like Donnie Darko” They’ll obey without questioning.

Hangover at recovery level four. Thank you, sweet turkey sandwich, savior of foul stomach.

4:15 p.m. Damn you, Manos Hands of Fate. First you destroy Shawn Carney’s knee, then you make it close for the Falcons, who end up getting the fidooskie from Cal anyway. The only redemption could be seeing FSU fuck up their first punt and then go down to Kentucky…

…and Manos, we apologize. You take and you give with equanimity. 7-0, Kentucky.

4:57 p.m.: Fatigue’s kicking in with the “Here Come the Bells” guitar wank they play in the commercial breaks. Get Dragonforce to update it and we’ll be on board, especially since it’ll have eight thousand triplets in it and eight guitar solos in eight seconds.

5:05 p.m.: FIRE!!! SOMEONE HELP ME!!!

Matt Grothe: Coming! (Pours can of gas on brush fire, immolates entire neighborhood.)

USF’s defense needed some form of assistance from the Bulls offense. Grothe throws a pick six to effectively end the Sun Bowl. Because he is Matt Grothe, and when he is good, he is very, very good, and when he is bad you find yourself clutching a knife in your stomach and pleading WHYYYYYYYY? directly to the camera.

5:10 p.m.: Make that a can of gas and a topper of napalm. Grothe throws another pick on the next series.

5:28 p.m.: Drew Weatherford’s career in visual portmanteau–he is the man, and opposing defenses are the big woman in bike pants.

5:46 p.m.: Bobby Bowden’s putting on the headset! For a failed goal-line play! My god, this would be savory if Andre Woodson hadn’t had an aneurysm and thrown a pick six on the very next play. Again: Manos, you’re a fickle B-movie god.

6:10 p.m.: Bowden says the excessive celebration call against FSU “irritates the crap out of him.” Music City Bowl gold, mes amis.

6:17 p.m: The following was actually just said on ESPN’s halftime show:

Rece Davis, talking about Mark May: Cut his mike!

Lou Holtz: Cut his throat!

…
…
…

Lou, you just fricasseed our brains.

6:53: Andre Woodson is playing like Art Schlicter with a pinkie on the line, and yet Kentucky is still up 21-14.

Nursing a lingering hangover from the Independence Bowl, we present today’s liveblog, brought to you by LSUFreek’s very important message on the importance of proper safety procedures while blogging.

12:28: AAAIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHHH Dan Fouts in HD not good! Your set memes are Cal attempting to overcome a peanut-loaded sewer trout of a season, redemption, suspensions of players; Air Force to keep momentum from “surprisingly good” season.

And they have smooth luvah Jason Kidd introducing the Cal players! Don’t kill mommy, Cal! Please!

12:50: Air Force has a goddamn general introduce the lineups while flying a goddamn awesome F-18. The only thing cooler would be if he fired a missile into a T-54 at the end that was painted in Cal colors.

We credit this for Air Force’s dominating first drive.

1:10: Cal looks like they were playing along last night during the Independence Bowl Drinking game. They’re playing rock paper scissors and losing badly.

1:19: Cal looks like they’ve been replaced with the NPCs from a poorly rendered video game: the sort who stand around and wait for you to fire a rocket launcher into their balls in between repeating canned dialogue like “What was that?” and “I’m scared!”

Air Force 21, Cal 0. Wizard!

1:42: Kevin Riley comes in, and suddenly you can spell fecal without Cal. Where the hell has Riley been? Dan Fouts is singing “Centerfield,” one of the songs they play in our version of Robot Hell along with “Hotel California” and “Butterfly Kisses.” Stop, Hairface. Please stop. 21-14 and Cal’s awake.

2:12: Subtract Chan Gailey from the equation, and Tech’s allergy to points disappears! Up 7-0 thanks to beautiful pass by Taylor Bennett and yes we just typed that. Boise’s commercials look awesome, btw: all rock climbing, mountain biking, and various activities you really loved to do when you had free time and knees.

2:35: The Sun Bowl in El Paso really has the best setting: a cross between a desolate Halo map and Thunderdome. Oregon’s got early jazz here as they refuse to let USF’s offense do anything. They’re also giving Justin Roeper simple tasks at qb, and he’s doing splendidly thus far.

2:53: Air Force went to Les Miles’ Balls Emporium before the game, converting fourth down on an option play to keep catchfire Cal off the field. Chad Hall is 5′ 8″ of pure badass: he catches, he runs, he flies jets fifty feet off the ground. We need to walk to the liquor store–champagne must go with this campaign.

Ooohhhh…Carney’s knee just bent in an unholy, gorge-rise kind of way. He’s done for the day, year, whatever. Dan Fouts is telling us not to look and we’re still looking because we’re evil like that.

Goddamn, that is horrible.

Name: The Champs Sports Bowl. That place in the mall where you can buy tight fitteds, son, and 150 dollar athletic shoes you can’t run in, son. OOO-WEEE! And them brushed/gold pom-poms, son! Prospicacious street goods, son!

Motto: “Real eroticism begins with the introduction of a third party.” The quote from the end of Emanuelle is the best explanation why Orlando needed a third second bowl game: because they’ve got a stadium, little to do with it, a zillion hotel rooms, a nice airport, good weather, and have watched and learned from the lessons of Emanuelle by adding a third partner into the mix with the city and the Capital One Bowl.

Fake Bowl? No, as in backed by deep-pocketed mall retailer that sells the streetest pom-poms evah.

Intrusive Corporate Sponsor: Champs Sports, “where sports lives.” We thought sport lived in our glowing green sweat and in Gatorade, so this could be the subject of some direly needed academic research.

Tradition rating: Around since 1990, back when we were glued to Dial MTV and learned that life will rip even the most tender and vulnerable things from your grasp and squash them to blood pudding in a hydraulic vise. Like Jim Henson, dammit.

Just go to the fucking doctor next time! Sobbing…

Setup: A Bangalore casting call: anyone who’s around and available, evidently. The Big 10, Big 12, ACC, and Big East, and ACC have all made appearances in the history of the bowl, meaning they just want someone to hold them and love them and just show up, okay? A woman has low standards at this point in life. And Boston College, you’re not showing up, only selling 6,000 or so of their 12,000 ticket allotment, meaning you’ll be Boise-bound and out of this woman’s arms, you emotionally unavailable bastards!

Why you should watch despite this being the Champs Sports Bowl and 5:00 on a Friday: For Matt Ryan, who being from New England and white instantly had horrific nicknames like “Matty Ice” thrown on him along with Tom Brady/Ted Williams/Sports Messiah aura. Luckily no one in New England cares enough about college football to destroy his young psyche with an intolerable level of celebrity, so he’s doing fine and alternately saving his team’s collective ass (as in the last second TD in the Virginia Tech game) and throwing them into the fire. Boston will start off throwing heavily and then throw even more if they feel threatened, either by a Michigan State lead or a particularly threatening security guard. The fewest attempts for BC this year passing has been 32; Ryan’s gone over 40 ten times.

Michigan State has Jehuu Caulcrick, Javon Ringer, and guy who throws the ball. That’s all you need to know: Ringer’s the speed guy, Caulcrick is a bus-big back for the power downs, and sometimes they let Brian Hoyer throw the ball. If he’s approaching 30 attempts, that ain’t good for Michigan State. Their game plan will be squat-ball all the way, holding the ball forever and keeping it out of the hands of Matt Ryan. Boston College’s run defense was the best in the nation. This may not be a good idea.

On defense, it would have been great fun watching Jonal Saint-Dic try to disrupt Ryan because Ryan’s taken a good beating this year despite his productivity and glossy numbers. Unfortunately, Michigan State will be Saint-Dic-less due to Saint-Dic’s sprained cerebrum and academic ineligibilty. We imagine BC wins this one in as sluggish a fashion as a team that throws the ball 40 times a game can, and then begins the fun of trying to replace someone who took every snap under center. Matty Ice! It’s better than Matty Light! Or Matty Chill. That stuff tastes like iguana piss in a bottle.

You think your bowl game’s entertainment sucks ass wrinkles? Not when they’re bringing Eddie Money to the party!

LSUFreek again stretches your cultural envelope with a sly reference to the 1964 film The Carpetbaggers and attaches it to Dennis Erickson, who knows a bit about carpetbagging in coaching stints at Idaho, Wyoming, Washington State, Miami, San Francisco, Seattle, Oregon State, Idaho (again), and now Arizona State. We know nothing about the movie besides it having George Peppard in it and that the script was co-written by Harold Robbins, former skin-novelist who once penned the line–we shit you not–”Where’d you get that, a used pussy shop?”

He’s just going to a bowl game, baby! He’ll be back!

Piss on you, bowl critics, because the Motor City bowl brings ten years o’ hottness to the table. It’s older than some countries, man. Suck that, East Timor! In addition to all of this, the matchup between Central Michigan and Purdue promises to feature lots of points, a feature that for the casual, non-defense-loving fan should trump the I Love New York 2 marathon on VH1. (Well, for the first half at least.)

Name: Motor City Bowl. A terrific name if you want to associate yourself with a dying industry. Alternate names to the same end could include The American Railroad Conductors Bowl, the Cassette Tape Player Bowl, and the Univac Computers Bowl.

Motto: Come for the MAC football, stay for the soul-wrenching casinos and urban blight. Detroit is the mule America never gets tired of kicking, as evidenced by the brisk economy of punchlines that extends all the way back to The Kentucky Fried Movie. The city that inspired The Crow and Robocop really does make it far too easy for those with the rapiers out, however.

Exhibit we’ve lost count because it’s too fucking easy: the big night out for the football players?

The entire team will be the guest of Utopia Night Club within Thunderbowl Lanes, located in nearby Allen Park from 6:30 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. (Note: This event may be moved to 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm depending on final practice time assignments)). Thunderbowl Lanes is an area landmark with 94 lanes and home to the Michigan Bowling Hall of Fame. Players will be hosted in the remodeled Utopia Night Club with exclusive use of 20 bowling lanes, 24 pool tables, and a large video arcade.

The pregame party is in the “nightclub” in a bowling alley. Thomas More actually had precisely this club in mind when he wrote Utopia, actually. Also, we’re pretty sure that if this is the pregame party, then the gift bag will include a slightly used Sega Genesis and White Castle gift certificates along with a certificate of participation and eight pushpins just hanging loose in the bag.

Fake Bowl? No, because it’s not owned and operated exclusively by the WWL. The sponsors include GM, Chrysler, and Ford, a trio of sponsors explaining why the Motor City bowl has been bailed out financially by the United States government three times in the past ten years and failed to happen in 1999 because it dropped its transmission and burst into flame. God, we loathe American cars.

Intrusive Corporate Sponsor: None in the title, a testament to the commitment to brand the bowl under the Motor City moniker. A misguided attempt considering the endless vein of Detroit jokes, we think, but an admirable one given the Petrosun Independence Bowls of the world. Show us the day when Shreveport inspires this kind of loyalty!

Tradition rating: As old as the term “weblog,” actually, and therefore meriting a tradition rating of Drudge Reportish.

Give the Motor City Bowl a fuckin’ siren! It’s blog-old!

Setup: Usually nabbing a MAC power, the Motor City Bowl began its early career by serving as the official destination of Marshall football in the Bobby Pruett era: the Herd made the first four Motor City Bowls. This year’s model features MAC champion Central Michigan versus Purdue, who finished ninth in the Big Ten.

Why you should watch despite this being the MAC champion versus the ninth-place team in the Big Ten: Because you’re a whore for points, that’s why, even if this is a reheat of an earlier 45-22 Purdue win in West Lafayette where Purdue shot up 31-0 before Central put up 22 consolation points. Central Michigan features Dan LeFevour, only the second player to pass for 3,000 yards and rush for a thousand in a season evarrrr, but doing this in the MAC versus Ball State does not get you the flashbulb pornography enjoyed by Vince Young when he did it.

CMU did win the MAC despite having the 106th ranked defense in the nation, meaning Curtis Painter should easily broach his 360 yards he put up on CMU in Pointsgush Part One. Which means, SEC or Pac-10 honks, that even the ninth-place team from the Big Ten can waste the Mac Champion. Try and sleep tonight thinking of that, hater. Just try and sleep with that in your brain.