The all-caps mania is less an exaggeration and more direct mimicry, as the following sample of Coley’s work on Twitter will illustrate.

Killing “misquitos” with an axe, brah: the intensity just wafts off that like a chili fart, or like the smoke off Christian Ponder’s freshly incinerated shoulder, coach. We’re with you. We’re getting out blunderbusses to shoot cockroaches. We’re petting dogs with giant cartoonish hands on sticks. We’re taking this double decker of ambition under the bridge of championshipness whether the bridge likes it or not. WOLVERIIIIIIIIIIINES!!!

It’s all quite entertaining, if in need of occasional rebuttal and clarification. For instance: statement one…

…and the necessary clarification and correction:

We’re here to help.

Bad. Ass.

Enjoy.

Category one: Nebulous Statistical Comparisons of Dubious Validity. Virginia Tech’s offense has been better than its dismal usual this year for two reasons: the improved run blocking of the Hokies offensive line and the emergence of Ryan Williams, the freshman running back who enters the game with 930 yards rushing and 10 TDs. If ECU allows 108 yards on the ground tonight ( a respectable average) then Williams will become yet another Hokie 1,000 yard rusher sometime around your third cocktail tonight. Be sure to toast him.

Of continuing and troubling concern to VPIUITAGMNAUCS–we think we got all the initials in there from VT’s title–is the scattershot play of Tyrod Taylor, an extremely efficient passer at 12th in the nation but streaky to an extreme. Taylor can bail an entire game out in a single master stroke, or he can perform tidily when supported by the run game, but the one thing Taylor will not be in a game is the piece you build an offense around it. If the game comes down to him, you need a miracle, and he’s already done that once this year against Nebraska.

Enter the reason ECU made such a nasty opponent for ECU last year: their quality rush defense, the principal quality turning ECU from speed bump into concrete wall for the Hokies. ECU held Noel Devine to 83 yards, and if you can do that to Ninjamountaindwarfman, you can do that to anyone.

The teams are remarkably similar in build and methodology, but if you have to go with anything, go with Tyrod Taylor’s ability to, on one or two frenetic occasions in the game, reach between his two very talented cheeks and just pull something from his ass.

Advantage: Virginia Tech. Yes, we just bet on Tyrod Taylor. We ALSO like to live dangerously.

Virginia Tech, You’ve Been Factor’d!

Category Two: Mascot: Dogfight of the year thus far for the Factor Five since there’s much to admire about both mascots. The Hokie Bird is an endearingly goofy anthropomorphic turkey complete with flapping wattle and a fierce expression, and like all the best mascots no one is supposed to know their identity until graduation day. (We would bet a hundred dollars this claim is exaggerated and inexact, and that someone’s had sex while wearing the mascot head, because that would be the first thing we’d do, because why the hell not?)

He loses points for being that guy in the gym. You know. Major Bonerpants on the bench press who needs a spot.

Hey…ladies…seriously, gonna need some help with this over here…

This is ECU’s mascot. He is a pirate.

That’s really his entire resume besides a resemblance to Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard, who was stabbed over twenty times and shot five before dying in a battle at sea. That and simply being a pirate is enough for us to make the judges signal in the direction of his corner for the win.

Advantage: ECU

ECU, You’ve been factor’d!

Category Three: Aura. Did we mention Pirate-Out? What was already ECU’s highest profile game of the year just went through the roof aura-wise. It will also generate some of the clumsiest drunken requests for sodomy in the Greenville area late tonight because “Yarr that’s what pirates would do.” Pirates around the area will, for the most part, go home to give themselves a Jolly Rogering, and yup that’s the end of our sexually themed pirate jokes. (NOTE PLEASE REMOVE HOOK HAND FIRST FOR BEST NON BLOODY RESULTS)

Advantage: ECU

ECU, You’ve Been Factor’d!

Category Four: Names.

Virginia Tech: Telvion Clark, Germond Oatneal, NUBIAN PEAK, Ju-Ju Clayton, Barquell Rivers, Kwamaine Battle

East Carolina: Derek Blacknail, Kwaku Danso, Doug Mayo-Tapp, Zico Pasut

Advantage: This was over at NUBIAN PEAK.

Virginia Tech, You’ve been factor’d!

Grudges? Scores to settle? Sheer cussedness? Virginia Tech certainly owes ECU for a 27-22 upset last year, so grudginess certainly has to go in favor of the Hokies. [Holds out hands in balance pose, leans back and forth.] Then again, ECU has pirates… Desire to avenge an embarrassing loss at home a year ago….pirates….need to bounce back from nutpunching loss to UNC….pirates. So yeah, that’s totally advantage ECU um VT.

Virginia Tech, you’ve been factor’d!

EDSBS FACTOR FIVE FIVE FACTOR PREVIEW SUM: 3-2, Virginia Tech You’ve Been Factor’d! Remember, this means bet the other way at your own risk.

Ours could be any number of things:

–”STILL MORE MOBILE THAN CHRIS WEINKE”
–”THERE WERE FLOWERS HERE BUT PHIL FULMER ATE THEM”
–”YOU’RE AT THE WRONG TOMBSTONE MIAMI’S SWAGGER IS FOUR SPOTS DOWN AND DIED IN 2002″
–”IF TIM’S RIGHT I’M IN HELL RIGHT NOW GO GATORS.”
–”CANCER: NATURE’S ORIGINAL UNSTOPPABLE SPREAD OFFENSE.”
–”NOT DEAD–JUST HIDING FROM ED ORGERON.”

Please leave your own personalized epitaphs below, and salute Mr. Smith, an American hero, and JBoxt1, who found this brilliance.

An emotional Andrews made the announcement at the Orthopedic and Sports Surgery Convention of North Florida and Southern Alabama, where the longtime defensive stalwart and coaching icon was scheduled to receive a lifetime achievement award in Knee Surgery generation. Andrews was known not only for his hard hitting defenses, but for his defenses’ ability to move the field of reconstructive surgery forward with new and ever-evolving variations of knee damage.

“I can’t tell you how many different knees we had roll through here, but I could always tell which one’s had Mickey’s name all over it,” said reconstructive surgery legend Dr. James Andrews of Birmingham. “They didn’t just tear. By the time they got to me, it looked the way a truck tire had blown up in there, treads flapping and flying all over the place. I owe him a lake house or two, that’s for sure.”

Andrews’ can claim a long list of NFL draftees developed under his supervision, including NFL legends Deion Sanders and Derek Brooks. His hard-nosed defenses emphasized pressure and hard hitting in addition to imposing as much knee damage as possible in a single hit.

“It was always about fundamentals for Mickey,” said fellow conference attendee Dr. Cal Wright of Mobile, Alabama. “His defenses weren’t fancy, but they certainly put pressure on people and forced mistakes. They also accounted for 45% of all my surgeries from 1991-1999, and for that I certainly owe him. A more deserving man could not be chosen for this award.”

Andrews will step down at the end of the season. His replacement has not been named yet, but a search is underway. When he leaves, he will leave a legacy of defensive brilliance unmatched in college football.

One thing he will not be short on is friends.

“Mickey is the best friend an old arthroscoper like myself ever had,” said longtime Andrews fan and sports surgeon Alan Kemp of Atlanta, Georgia in his closing remarks. “Hardest I ever laughed in my career came when they brought in Scott Milanovich. One knee hangin’ on by a few bloody shoestrings of ligament, the other completely gone. I ask what happened to ‘em, and he says Andre Wadsworth took the other one and ate it right there in front of him. We all owe Mickey a lot, including the most important thing of all: the laughter only a good friend or traumatic knee injury can give you.”

If Butch Davis is managing our team in an endgame scenario, we have a new addition to our living will. Please take the nearest well-maintained M40, load it with the asparagus spear-sized bullets they take, and then aim it carefully at our skull and fire using a well-calibrated scope. We’ll stay still for it, since the swift de-braining experienced would be faster and more pleasant than watching what will happen otherwise. No charges filed. We swear.

Instant reax here. By MVP, we mean real, literal value. Without Christian Ponder, Florida State would be Jacksonville State with much nicer stuff.

Enjoy.

Category one: Nebulous Statistical Comparisons of Dubious Validity. To properly illustrate the duel we have going on here, pardon a digression into the past of a geek: the Marvel Superheroes Advanced Game.

Marvel Superheroes was an idea time-killer for the ADD set because it didn’t require you to build characters, scream “lightning bolt!” while you hurled a 20-sided die, or do anything else that required work or possible contamination from the tights-wearing ren-fair crowd. No, what you could do was pick three cards at random, and put your characters down on a board representing a city block, and then start wrecking some virtual shit. I try to rip the Hulk’s balls off with my mind. That’s the proper way to have fun with Professor X, Hollywood screenwriters. Take note, and cash us our 10% royalty check when the movie’s made.

The parallels with FSU and UNC follow forthwith: more often than not, we picked our players at random. Sometimes this worked well, and sometimes you got Ant-Man, Wasp, and Northstar all in the same hand. Random made for more fun, though, especially when you got the Blob. The Blob, at this point in his story, had no real powers besides being outrageously fat, so much so that though he really couldn’t do much to anyone he wasn’t sitting on, he was also immobile and indestructible at the same time.

North Carolina is the random card drawn turning out to be the Blob. Congratulations! You’re impervious to harm, so immobile and well defensed that you allow only 14.2 points a game to this point in the season. Your gravity is undeniable and powerful. Unfortunately, your immobility is shared by your offense, too, an attack ranked dead last in the conference at 22.5 points a game. Last, and last, and yes, you’re basically the Blob.

Florida State in this matchup? They’d have to be some kind of defenseless goon whose best days were behind them, an all-offense, no defense kind of deflated tyrant with zero ability to defend itself in battle. We wouldn’t compare Florida State to a Nazi, would–

Yes, we would. Cuddles Swindle used to avoid this issue entirely when he drew Red Skull as a card by having the character set himself on fire in his first move. Hiring Jimbo Fisher as your coach-in-waiting is really a similar gesture.

Advantage: Florida State. At least Florida State can score, something North Carolina only gets to do when they receive permission from the Chancellor, who is concerned about all the study-interrupting noise touchdown celebrations can make.

Florida State, You’ve Been Factor’d!

Category Two: Mascot: Rameses the Ram is officially Carolina’s mascot, and an unintimidating one at that. Look, a ram. Baaah.

This is the part where you expect us to turn to the fake Native American that is Chief Osceola, the Seminoles’ mascot, and vent disdain on his person and his horse. BOOSH REVERSAL! Of all the things to mock about Florida State, the leavin’s of what once was on the field are more than enough without knocking the hustle of the mascot, Chief Osceola, whose tribe managed to hornswaggle a sweet casino deal out of the Feds before opening a gaming empire in South Florida. Now the Seminoles spend all day riding around in donk’d up swamp buggies buying things whitey used to own and suggesting to the state legislature that “When Cuba opens up, you may not want Havana to have full-service casinos while Miami has, um…a zoo.” They’re also still technically at war with the state of Florida.

Charity points granted, but Chief Osceola didn’t kill his father to get his mascoting gig. Advantage, murderous ram.

Advantage: North Carolina

North Carolina, you’ve been factor’d!

Category Three: Aura. Aura is not the word to describe Kenan Stadium, a leisurely outdoor study hall occasionally used for the rude business of this “football team” North Carolina’s less evolved boosters and officials insist on having when basketball is out of season. FSU and North Carolina have not played each other in five years, but the Seminoles are 14-1-1 against the Tar Heels all time, with the only Tar Heel victory arriving in a 41-9 upset in 2001. Both teams are winless in conference and reeling, so if you’re in the mood to watch two starving inmates fight to the death over the last cracker, then you’re a.) a sick human being, and b.) in luck, because that is precisely what this is.

With three conference losses, the most desperate of the desperate is Florida State here (but only by a fine hair or two.)

Advantage: Florida State

Florida State, You’ve Been Factor’d!

Category Four: Names.

Florida State: Taiwan Easterling, Ed Imeokparia, Ochuko Jenije, Zebrie Sanders, Toshmon Stevens

North Carolina: LeCount Fantroy, Ebele Okakpu, Hunter Furr, Hawatha Bell

Advantage: It’s hard to top LeCount Fantroy in anything, much less a names competition.

North Carolina, You’ve been factor’d!

Grudges? Scores to settle? Sheer cussedness? Sheer cussedness might go to Florida State, but only because by the math they are more desperate to find some kernel of golden corny goodness in this turdloaf of a season they’re eating before our eyes. This is the worst Bobby Bowden team at this point, and if the old man’s mind is too far out to the pastures of Civil War re-enactment to understand just what that means, the very present impact that has on Jimbo Fisher and company’s careers is all too apparent to the offensive coaching staff, at least. Butch Davis, meanwhile, can scrape along to six or seven wins at this rate and still raise his hand and scream “rebuild!” much as one would say “mulligan” after pelting an elderly woman in the head on an errant tee shot.

Florida State, you’ve been factor’d!

EDSBS FACTOR FIVE FIVE FACTOR PREVIEW SUM: 3-2, Florida State You’ve Been Factor’d! Remember, this means bet the other way, because the Five Factor is ho-humming along at .500 or so this season as an actual indicator of team performance.

1. Virginia Tech. If the ACC were ancient Greece, Virginia Tech would be its Athens: a proud, functional state led by a charismatic enlightened leader which, from time to time, gets the plague, suffers damaging military defeats, and has long, punchless stretches on offense. This year’s model varies slightly from the usual grappler/asphyxiator model Frank Beamer likes to trot out each year. The variations: an actual number one running back of productive nature in Ryan Williams, who takes back some of the yards given up on the other side by a rush defense that by Bud Foster’s standards has spent as much time on her back as female British tourist on holiday.

The rogering has been harmless to this point, though. Tyrod Taylor has graduated from status as “ditzy, ADD-stricken scrambler of no effect” to “ditzy, sometimes fatally efficient ADD-stricken scrambler of note.” Nebraska fans, look away, and the rest of you enjoy the fan screaming “Get rid of the ball you stupid piece of shi–” just at Taylor unleashes the winning throw.

VT is second in the ACC in passing efficiency thanks to the forceful run game and low red-zone percentages being put up by the defense, which is why they’re lagging in total d, being (relatively) generous with yardage and stingy with points. All you need to know about the ACC may be encapsulated in this factoid: The number one team for passing efficiency is Georgia Tech, meaning the conference remains a series of toddler offenses on tricycles jousting with with long plastic straws until someone gets poked in the eye and goes home.

The good news is that their only loss came to the number one team on our ballot, and they’re number one in the league in punting average. Frank Beamer only cares about one of these when he goes home to relax by firing up the bellows, putting on his smithing gear, and cranking out his favorite Christmas gift, a pound of freshly hammered and cooled coat rack hooks. It’s not the loss to Alabama, and we both know it.

(BTW: it sucks being friends with a blacksmith of limited skills. You think you’re going to get a honed katana or some shit like that, but noooooo, it’s all nails, fishhooks, and coat rack hooks for you. Um, we mean “Thanks for the eight pounds of crooked nails, Uncle Roy.” )

2. Miami. It’s nice having the U kind of back, much like the world is cooler with actual live wolves and alligators thriving in the wild, as long as they don’t run into your yard snatching children and jumping on your trampoline. They listen to Spongebob! They beat the hell out of Georgia Tech! They have the official endorsement of a squarepanted animated mogul!

The most colorful team in a league of blandishments certainly deserves a welcome back to the land of the living, and a customary lap dance/drink combo of their choice. (It will be thick Tisha over there, for sure, and the drink will be a mojito. ) Jacory Harris has been a revelation, and for the most part an icy, unflappable signal-caller and fashion icon all in one convenient, well-barbered package. The production from the wideouts (five-deep) has been nice, too, though the defense still alternates youthful, kill-y exuberance with youthful, suicidal lapses (thirty points allowed against both FSU and Virginia Tech.) Still a raw and inconsistent product with the upside to rise above the muddle of zombies constituting the middle of the ACC.

3. Georgia Tech. It is a sign of deep trouble for a conference when you hit team three and have to say something like this: the third-best team in the ACC could field ten men on defense without any significant variation in their current eleven-man performance. Tech has been alternately wondrous and mediocre on offense, but the weapons have multiplied: Josh Nesbitt, Roddy Jones, and Jonathan Dwyer now have Anthony Allen to lean on as well, and on the rare occasions when they do decide to pass the ball, Demaryius “Bebe” Thomas has been vicious and on pace for a 1,000 yard season. (He is also the only 1,000 yards Tech is going to have passing, but thus the fun of being a wideout in the Johnson offense.)

The defense ranks tenth in total defense, and is surpassed only by Maryland and the corpse of the Florida State defense in horrid reeking awfulness surrounded by vultures, flies, and an animal control man looking down holding a shovel in hand shaking his head. This means for entertainment value Tech ranks high, since you get to see not one, but two defenses on the field for a single team: a defense waving helplessly at the opposition running by, and the offense deliberately slowing down things in order to keep the defense from stroking out on the field after another instant scoring drive.

ATTENTION HERE LIES SHANTY TOWN PLEASE TAKE ALL VALUABLES AND THROW THEM FROM THE CAR TO SAVE TIME AND EFFORT ALSO HAND OVER THE CAR BECAUSE THEY ARE GONNA WANT THAT TOO THANK YOU YOU ARE NOW ENTERING SHANTY TOWN

4. Wake Forest. At this point, we exit the walls of our gated compound and descend into the depressed, bland slums of the rest of the ACC, where vitamin deficiencies and the employment of retread coaches lead to a colorless muddle for the remainder of the conference. In this shantytown of football despair in all directions, and not even the colorful, vibrant shanties you might find in the lower ranks of the Pac-10 or SEC. No, these shanty-people know just how fucked they are, look pretty angry about it, and would find a tire to throw around your head for a Soweto Necktie if only they could find something resembling a spark out here. Thus the problem: this is the part of the league lacking the technology to make fire.

Wake has Riley Skinner, who has put up burly passing numbers in leading Wake past two conference opponents (Maryland and NC State) already. He, Marshall Williams, and Chris Givens can at least give Wake a shot to win any game no matter how porous the defense can be at times. (This is how they differ from Florida State: they sometimes make people punt once, or sometimes twice.) Thus their position atop the hill in the favela, and Jim Grobe’s renewed role in position of King of the ACC Slumlords.

5. Clemson. Block-C says it better than anyone else can:

Take this season for what it’s worth: Possibly slightly better than average as always.

The only key difference between this inconsistent Clemson team and any of the Tommy Bowden teams preceding it are the expectations. With Bowden, the current middling performance, occasionally baffling play-calling, and defensive lapses were indicative of a long pattern of patchy wish-fulfillment by the now-fired coach. Swinney has them as part of a two year on-the-job training course fans seem happy to enroll him in, though patience is wearing thin in graphic form. He’s nowhere near the “Bowden-Gump nebula of confusion” yet, but a loss to Maryland suggests the coordinates have been entered into the navigation system and the ship is steaming there as we speak. Did we mention they lost to Maryland? Despite having a tightfisted defense and CJ Spiller and Jacoby Ford? That Mary-land, yes?

6. Virginia. Oh, this feels soo good: meh. Will lose to William and Mary and somehow finish with seven wins and Al Groh skipping the Meineke Car Care Bowl to attend a bridge tournament in Delaware. Again, no one will notice. We would hate watching this team play football if it were worth the trouble of watching this team play football, which it’s not. Will undoubtedly win six games, and we don’t mean in a fun way, but instead in a kind of stone-passing, constipated agony kind of manner. Fast for the Big Ten, though, or at least fast enough to spark the annual Al Groh Career Drive they will rip through to finish the season at aggressively mediocre.

7. Duke. Quietly having a marvelous little season for itself, especially via Thaddeus Lewis’ outstanding 12/2 ratio and solid passing. At 3-3 and headed into the conference stretch, they may even win 6 games, a heroic total for David Cutcliffe’s team and a watershed year for Duke football if it happens. Will possibly win six games, and possibly in the fun way before being infected by the rest of the conference, contracting a debilitating case of ACC ennui, and firing Cutcliffe to take a chance on this Tom O’Brien guy everyone’s been talking about.

8. Maryland. No team has a deeper or more unabiding passion for slows. There’s Torrey Smith at wideout, and…and that’s about it. Ralph Friedgen isn’t even alternating bad games and good games this year like the Terrapins teams of yore: now he’s kind of in an exotic, prog-rockish 2-1-1-2 bad game to good game then reverse ratio, which sounds really cool if you’re into math rock, but sucks if you happen to be a Maryland fan hoping to win two games that count in a row. This team would be slow in the Big Ten. This is not a compliment to anyone.

9. North Carolina. The best defense in the conference, and a tribute to the species of the armadillo, a species Butch Davis developed an affinity for while coaching in South Florida. See, sometimes they cross the road down there, and if you catch them just the right way with your car you can send them flying in spectacular arcs, little careening brown armored balls hurtling like varmint shrapnel all over the place. Butch so obviously did this once, watched as the stricken ‘dilla crept off without a limp, and thought “One day, I’m ‘a gonna build me a team like that.” This year, that dream comes true, because while the UNC defense is nigh indestructible, the UNC offense has no claws, teeth, venom, or tenacity to speak of, and subsists off grubby field goals and punts it finds discarded on the ground. And like armadilloes, many larger, more toothsome predators consider them more “food on the half-shell” than “hopelessly well-armored anti-snack.”

10. NC State. Have fallen so far that they have become one of those teams that Pitt isn’t supposed to lose to, but does, and then everyone remembers they’re Pitt, so that’s fine and everything is in its right place. Bowling Green-On-The-Piedmont has found the offense that failed to show up against South Carolina in their opener, but has now conveniently given the defense off for good behavior, allowing 5 TDS through the air against Duke and causing Tom O’Brien to never leave a man behind…

“Kids have got to make plays,” O’Brien said. “It’s not the scheme and it’s not the coaches. Right now we’ve got to make plays. No more great example than the first two third downs in the game where we’re in perfect position to make plays and don’t get the guy on the ground.”

…unless they screw up your perfect play-calling and doom Mike Archer’s brilliant schemes. Yes, LSU fans. That Mike Archer. We’re sorry you just choked on your post-prandial whiskey. A less-spacious and more crime-ridden part of ACC Shantytown for sure, though Russell Wilson is doing his damnedest to move them on up.

11. Boston College For the third time: Jeff Jagodzinski is taking calls. All day. F’realz.

12. Florida State.Would be 11, but lost to the current number 11 and is winless in conference. Here despite the excellent numbers Christian Ponder has put up: 297 yards a game, 9 TDs, 1 INT, and all the effort one can humanly put into putting out the raging wildfire consuming the wreckage of the Florida State program. He’s trying. He really, really is. If we didn’t hate the Florida State football program like fat adorable seals hate polar bears, this would have a twinge of noble sacrifice to it. It might even be admirable. With a 12th ranked defense in conference failing to cover anything thrown at them and performing with the discipline of a well-oiled retirement home dance troupe, Ponder has become a Camus character before our eyes. If Tech could play ten men and still allow the same ridiculous number of points, Florida State could play 12 and do the same, possibly worse (there’s more people to trip over, run into, and fight on the sidelines.)

In summary: the ACC brings more ass to the game than Andressa Soares, and not in a good way like Andressa Soares. A conference rich in bottom, and the monkey with seven asses of college football conferences. When the Mountain West claims it has a point about the BCS, it points here. Writing this caused us physical pain. It’s time to lie down on a pillow made of vodka and see if we dream of better football. Ouch. Whimper. Reaches for bottle.

Two years ago Coach Bowden and I and others stood together and announced that we were beginning a period of transition for the football program.

That plan is in place and will produce results, given the opportunity and support.

…I want to assure all fans, friends, supporters and alumni of Florida State University that that transition will be finalized. Jimbo Fisher will be Florida State University’s next Head Football Coach.

…Our athletics programs are built on the foundation of helping young people build character and display that in their personal actions as well as on the fields of play.

We also expect our teams to be competitive.

…Any coach can choose to retire at any time…

…However, it is the athletics director’s responsibility to determine which coaches are hired and which contracts are extended.

Like this.

I know all of our fans, friends, supporters and alumni will accord the coaching staff and our young student-athletes all the support, encouragement and respect they deserve. I will respect the process. FSU does not make coaching changes in the middle of the season…

Specifically, I also know that Bobby Bowden loves this university. I have talked with him at length, and I know that he will do the right thing, as he always has done. I know the man and I know what’s in his heart.

I have spoken with numerous fans, alumni, Boosters, supporters and staff, and I will make a final report to the full Board of Trustees at the end of the year. Until then, FSU will concentrate on supporting our team and student-athletes in winning as many games as possible. Neither the university nor I will have further comment on this matter until then.

Miami’s effort to hijack the Sooner Schooner and turn it into a rolling bonfire will have to happen without starting safety Randy Phillips, who along with backup JoJo Nicolas will miss the OU game with injuries. This is one of the factual things one might need to know when prognosticating about the game. This is one of the factual things one might not need to know, but will appreciate hearing about in a world where good news is scarce:

• Coach Randy Shannon said quarterback Spencer Whipple — who transferred this week from Massachusetts and is the son of UM offensive coordinator Mark Whipple — has done a good job of running the scout team.

A well-leveraged life change, that. Hey, son. I’ve got this new gig in Miami. Care to abandon your sunless, freezing life among the Tawmmys of the world to run the scout team in Coral Gables, where your most serious injury might be a blown vas deferens due to overuse? Why, sure, dad. I think I’d like to improve my life about three thousand times in the span of a few pieces of paperwork and a single plane flight. Excellent work, Spencer Whipple. Your chance of being randomly killed in a spectacular and gory fashion just went through the roof, but opportunity costs are opportunity costs.

Wassup, ’scro. Don’t be a pussy and pass me a beer.

I didn’t get to watch the Miami-Virginia Tech game until after I already knew the outcome — I had been at another game at the same time, and was as surprised as anyone that Virginia Tech could score thirty-one, and even more than Miami managed a meager seven. But I can honestly say that I had more fun watching this game on replay, already knowing the outcome, than anything I’ve watched this year.

That might come as a surprise considering I just did an extensive breakdown of Miami’s (previously) vaunted pass offense, have family members who are diehard Canes fans, and still think Jacory Harris is one of the most entertaining players in the country. But you have to love what Bud Foster and Frank Beamer were able to do with Virginia Tech. The hype was all focused on Miami; the defense had looked atrocious such that Foster was putting news clippings and reprimands on players’ lockers; and Virginia Tech’s speed was basically exposed against Alabama, where the Tide managed to both run through and by the Hokies.

So what did they do? Play soft coverage and hope Harris made some mistakes? Revamp the offense to catch Miami’s speedy defense off guard? No. Foster and Beamer basically said fuck it, we’re going after Miami. That early fumble by Jacory Harris that set up the Hokies’ first touchdown? Well they did what I said they wouldn’t be able to: Foster dialed up a hide-the-children, all-out, man-to-man blitz with no free safety with the cornerback, Dorian Porch, coming off the short side of the field. (Miami was in a three receiver set with a tight-end backside. Foster put two guys to this backside: one played the tight-end in man coverage and the other, Porch, just blitzed, and of course Harris never saw him.)

And the blitzkrieg was on. Virginia Tech ran the ball well enough to convert good field position into points (and managed to dig themselves out of some bad field position after a muffed punt). A big pass from Tyrod Taylor and a blocked punt and the Hokies suddenly had a 21-0 lead, one that proved insurmountable.

VT’s players raved about Bud Foster’s defensive plan. What was it? Early in the game, as I said, Foster brought serious heat. All-out man-blitz type heat. I didn’t think VT could play man on Miami’s speedy receivers, but they barely had to because the well-timed blitzes were in Harris’s face before he could throw it. But Foster didn’t just bring these all-out blitzes.

Indeed, later in the game the strategy was actually much the opposite, as he went to a heavy dose of cover two: funnel the outside receivers inside to the safeties and force Harris to fit a tight through between defenders. This was something Harris was never really able to do. Now, a big reason for that was when Tech only rushed four Jason Worilds simply lifted up the man blocking him and threw him to the side and sacked Harris, as he did on a key third down early in the game.

Foster’s other tactic was to use the zone blitz, specifically some fire zones with five rushers and six pass defenders. He tended to do this on third and long, which put pressure on Harris and forced him to make a short throw where the Hokie pass defenders were in position to make a tackle. Again, throughout the game Harris never seemed to be in rhythm. In the first few games Miami OC Mark Whipple had done a nice job providing him with lots of pass protection and letting him take his time finding a receiver on a deep crossing route, corner route, or dig. Foster’s defense — and Bob Stoops’s Oklahoma defense — forces you to throw it quickly, and on rhythm. One-two-three-throw. Harris doesn’t seem to quite have this timing down, which is probably a function of how young he really is and how he will have to get better at all his reads and learn to make them quicker, during his drop, rather than relying on sitting in a perfectly constructed pocket and just waiting for a guy to break open.

After Virginia Tech established its big lead, Foster generally went with more coverage versus blitzes, though he went back to the man-to-man blitzes late. On the interception at the beginning of the fourth quarter, he called Virginia Tech’s old school “cover two robber,” which is literally a cover two — there are two deep zone defenders — but instead of using the safeties the cornerbacks drop, while the free safety plays a “robber” position. On the play Whipple had called the same double-move play that had worked against FSU: the receiver sprints upfield, begins like an out, and then angles inside the cornerback to the post. It works great against true single-safety defenses like Cover three, because the corner will play with outside leverage. Yet this time the corner, Rashad Carmichael, had sunk inside to play the deep half and Jacory Harris basically threw it right to him. I can only guess that Jacory thought he’d be playing with outside leverage.

Yet to some extent this beside the point. The plan for VT was very good. But in watching this game you couldn’t help but get the impression that one team was excited to play on that sloppy field, in driving rain, in that muck. They were excited to fly around and smash somebody, slide around a bit, and get up and do it again. And the other team? Well, for much of the game they looked like they didn’t want to get dirty. And if you play that way, in that weather, against a Frank Beamer team, it’ll be a long day. And it was.

No, leave the Dragonball-Z and Pokemon posters on the wall behind you in your smack-talking video to Miami fans. They’ll be too distracted by your blazing commentary and the acid burn of your caustic LAUGH OF DEEP KNOWING SARCASM, right?

No?

hahaahhaahahah…. nice dragonball poster buddy… go jack off to a pokemon

Faggot with your Dragon Ball Z cartoons, nerd

At 217 comments and running, a tally of 17 “fags” or variations thereof, four “homo”s and only six “gay”s is extremely weak for any Youtube thread, much less one frequented by Hurricane fans. They are coming off a loss, however, so the week of mourning is some pardon for their lack of usual vibrant, stunning homophobia. At least they are polite, though, when they do it:

“You sir are a fucking homo.”

Manners are alive and well on the internet after all. (HT: The Great Barstoolio.)

In this case, however, I must make an exception. I must speak out in support of Bobby Bowden, the legendary American football coach at Florida State University, and against the traitorous running dogs attempting to stop his plan to give the people what they deserve and want so much: an indomitable football team crushing all opposition in front of it.

What Florida State fans fail to understand is what all great leaders understand: the path to the mountain of success runs through a thousand rice paddies of failure. Every great leader understands this, and the people should follow obediently, confident that he has his eye on the summit ahead. To see this kind of belligerent rhetoric from within the ranks of your own brothers, though?

It’s safe to say that everything Bowden does is counterproductive to the shot and long-term health of the football program because it is taking away a decision making opportunity from someone who is actually informed enough to make a qualified decision. The one thing Bowden says he wants (FSU to be great again) is simply not possible until he leaves or dies, neither of which would bother most FSU fans I know at this point.

This is a wordplay and mockery to the nation while staging war maneuvers, and treason to the people. Obviously this splittist clique can never succeed in dividing the leader from his people. Vigorously struggle against them, and report them to authorities if possible for immediate reform through labor in the service of their people. If this is not possible, kill them with farm implements and receive the people’s universal bonus of a half bowl of rice in gratitude for service.

The leader understands how hard it can be, but only through great struggle can we have great growth. Cognac also helps. Ah, sweet, bottomless bathtubs full of it.

/passes out for three hours in bathtub of cognac.

Where was I? Yes, lessons. For example: that was not a loss to South Florida; it was instead a lesson to be more vigilant against mobile quarterbacks, and a case study in the need to score in the redzone for the greater glory of Florida State. It was not a near-miss against Jacksonville State, but an object lesson about the importance of fighting vigilantly against complacency. The closer the danger, the more savory the glory for all! That is the lesson Bowden is trying to teach here.

Look at my own policies. The nation provides all for the people, and the people provide all for the nation. We have eradicated all of the major threats to a happy society: obesity, vice, trees, obesity…all due to the hard work of our leader and his faithful people. At night, our proletariat sleeps in blissful, unpolluted darkness, much like the residents of the Florida panhandle do. Someday, I hope Coach Bowden can look out and see what he has created and be as proud of his people’s work as I am when I look through the windows in Pyongyang.

The broad segments of people should intensify the struggle against driving out Dear Leader Bowden, and throw away the anti-Bowden maniacs to the dustbin of history through a nationwide struggle against them. Devote yourself fully to his teachings, build more statues, and create a spectacular flippy-card show for his enjoyment. If all of that fails, torture someone in front of him. That always perks up my day, and from what I understand this “Chuck Amato” fellow is as expendable as they come.

Sincerely,

Your homeboy,

Kim Jong-Il.

ps. If you need nukes, the phrase is, I believe, “Holla at your boy?”

This message brought to you by the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, the Council on Foreign Relations, the United Nations Special Mission on the Koreas, and was produced in conjunction with the University of Florida Athletic Association.

Pop quiz! Which of the things below were things Paul Johnson actually said about Georgia Tech’s performance this past Thursday against Miami:

1. “We’re not really good at anything right now.”

2. “It was very poor technique. I don’t know what the guy was doing, really.”

3. “It’s not legal for me to choke a player to death with his own intestines. I couldn’t do it, anyway, considering how gutless we are as a team.”

4. “If you can’t go on the snap count — the other team doesn’t have anything to do with that. That’s you.”

5. “For a bunch of engineers, we suck at counting to three.” *

6. “We had too much in. Anytime you can’t do what you’re supposed to be doing, you’ve got too much in.”

7. “I shot every tenth man after practice and donated their bodies to science, but had them rejected by the morgue due to lack of spine.”

8. Of coordinator’s Dave Wommack’s assertion that his defenders will switch to a 4-5-2 alignment for Saturday’s game against North Carolina: “We could play a 4-12-9, but it won’t matter what we play if we don’t get our face on somebody and our eyes where they should be.”

9. Of coordinator’s Dave Wommack’s assertion that he deserved to live another five minutes without being thrown into a giant aquarium filled with rats and bees: “When you assume you make an ass out of ‘you’ and me. You also get thrown into a giant aquarium filled with rats and bees for sassin’, too.”

If you answered “all of the above,” you’d be correct, though Paul Johnson actually only said 1, 2, 4, 6, and 8 in a press conference we’ll go ahead and describe as “honest, and profoundly uncomfortable. ” We’re sorry we disappointed Coach Johnson, and we’re sitting five miles away, cannot play football, and had nothing to do with the Miami debacle.

*Reggie Ball Reggie Ball Reggie Ball Reggie Ball Reggie Ball.

Georgia Tech hopes to avoid the curse of being Factor’d for the second week in a row as the Factor Five favorite, since they actually won in this spot last week and thus broke the curse of being the favored team.

Enjoy.

Category one: Nebulous Statistical Comparisons of Dubious Validity. For Georgia Tech, that number will be 472, or the number of yards allowed in this matchup last year by the Miami defense to Tech’s offense. Miami’s defense spent most of last year lunging at bright lights, tackling giant invisible rabbits, and laying down on the turf weeping when faced with an option play, and by the fourth quarter had given up hope altogether by allowing Lucas Cox, Tech’s geology-back, to take a leisurely continental drift up the middle for a long touchdown. Miami must not allow anything close this yardage to stay in the game, or else the Angel of Death arrives for them in the fourth quarter running a 5.2 and sending the Tech bench into gusts of laughter at a white fullback outrunning Miami LBs into the endzone. A possession back running loose in a blowout will and should do that to an audience.

For Miami, that number is ROOM 222 BAILAMOS CHICAS!!!

Apologies. A dance break was clearly in order. Hotel, motel, Holiday Inn: Jacory Harris only got sacked twice against FSU, and then had his lodging of choice with ample-assed boricuas, aerobicized white girls from Coral Gables, well-waxed Cubanas, and Overtown sistas with his name tattooed in his mouth following his 386 yard, 2 TD performance against Florida State.

The gaudy yardage posted by the Afro Butterfly isn’t the key number, however. The number of concern should be 2, the interceptions Harris threw, of particular importance due to the necessity of staying ahead of possessions against Tech. Once they get the ball they can squat on it for days, so maintaining even opportunities for Miami to score against a potentially clock-grinding Tech offense is of paramount importance for the young Harris. Do that, and the hotels, motels, Holiday Inns, and abandoned beach chairs of Dade County will be open to you yet again, young man.

Cutting down on the INTs could be significantly easier if Miami runs for more than 90 yards, a likelihood given Clemson’s 121 against the Jackets last Thursday.

Advantage: Miami.

Miami, You’ve Been Factor’d! (BITCH) (BECAUSE IT’S MIAMI) (BITCH)

Category Two: Mascot: Sebastian the Ibis does have his upside. He’s violent.

He is the only mascot we know of to be shot in the line of duty, though it may surprise you to note that this did not happen in Miami, but instead in New Orleans, a place so sketchy even Miamians consider dodgy business. He also dances frequently, drives a tricked out Hummer around campus, and is the alleged father of Gloria Estefan’s third child. He has his resume, and it is impressive.

Sadly, Sebastian is not Buzz, and does not eat members of the Georgia Tech band on command.

Advantage: Georgia Tech.

Georgia Tech, you’ve been factor’d!

Category Three: Aura. As limp as the homefield advantage for Miami might be in Landshark/Pro Player/ Joe Robbie/ The Coke Bowl might be, it still has the charm of being filled with Miami fans–who, shockingly enough, suspect you are both physically weak AND A HOMOSEXUAL, SIR? They’re an underrated home presence as long as Miami’s in the game, and are usually drunker than normal fans thanks to free and legal beer sales in stadium. It’s a nasty fanbase when even the nice men in wheelchairs want you dead and rotting facedown in an abandoned corner of the Everglades.

“Fuck you and your gay camera, Mr. Walking Asshole.”

The team is on a testosterone upswing, too, having beaten a rival and discovered some semblance of offense.

Advantage: Miami.

Miami, You’ve Been Factor’d! (BITCH)(BECAUSE IT’S DA U)

Category Four: Names.Tech’s roster, being bland, loses instantly to Da U’s roster of fine, musical monikers.

Adewale Ojomo
Aravious Armstrong
JoJo Nicolas
Ramon “Cookie” Buchanan
Vaughn Telemaque
Ray Ray Armstrong
Javarris James

Advantage: Miami.

Miami, You’ve been factor’d! (BITCH) (STARTS FIGHT IN TUNNEL)

Grudges? Scores to settle? Sheer cussedness? For Miami, certainly. Chan Gailey played the part of “The mediocre coach who nonetheless owned one team lock, stock, and barrel,” and for additional LULZ, and who doubled the pain by pawning off offensive coordinator/aspiring insurance salesman Patrick Nix on Randy Shannon, who then installed Nix and his offense in Coral Gables, leading Miami fans to question Shannon’s eptitude and local gun laws concerning the penalties re: ownership of high-grade military-quality sniper rifles. (We kid. Miami resdients don’t consult legal code of any sort before doing anything.)

Four in a row for Tech is one of the sure signs that Miami is at an ebb, program-wise. A win could reinforce the notion they are ascending from the depths of idiocrity, while a loss prolongs one of the nation’s odder win streaks of historical bullies being beaten senseless by furious geeks.

Miami, you’ve been factor’d! (BITCH) (SHAVES U LOGO INTO BACK HAIR)

EDSBS FACTOR FIVE FIVE FACTOR PREVIEW SUM: 4-1, Miami You’ve Been Factor’d! Reminder: THIS MEANS BET ON THE OTHER TEAM. It’s the counterindicator of counterindicators, though the Factor Five is 1-1 on the season after Tech dodged the curse of the F5 endorsement last week by actually beating Clemson. Still, a vote in your direction, Miami, does not bode well for the prospects of Tech not calculating a fifth win out of the ‘Canes. Still, remember that Miami backwards spells “I Maim,” and no one can take that amusing and truthful coincidence away from you.