During one of our post-SEC-media-days evening wind-downs, I overheard our fearless leader Orson, in a telephone trash-talk exchange with one of our illustrious Big XII partisans, describe Big XII Media Days as “the second guy in a DP scene” compared to the SEC. If that’s the case, then Pac-10 Media Day must be the guy holding the boom mike, as evidenced by this mob scene (courtesy of Scott Wolf from Inside USC) from new Pac-10 commissioner Larry Scott’s podium appearance last Thursday:

PRESEEZUN BUZZ: UR DOIN IT WRONG. Seriously, Pac-10, that is bush. In the interest of a more literary comparison, if SEC Media Days is “Animal House” — a lot of shenanigans go on, nobody really learns anything, but nobody gets hurt — then Pac-10 Media Day (yup, that’s Day, singular) is the equivalent of a Tom Stoppard play: very low-key and dignified, a lot of people talk for what seems like a very long time, but in the end nothing happens.

As further evidence of just how much Scott’s appearance fizzled, Oregon coach Chip Kelly brought the house down, comparatively speaking, with his explanation of how his spread offense relates to the Pythagorean theorem. (As someone who counts finagling his way out of AP Calculus in high school as one of his life’s greatest victories, I find this inconceivable: Math?!? In college football? Too complicated! FIRE BAD!) Even Dennis Erickson’s interview with Fanster.com was positively vanilla (not to mention barely audible), with Erickson offering up nary a story about golf carts, volcanoes, drunken sexual shenanigans in the Far East, or any of the other things for which you’d bother to listen to such an interview in the first place.

Meanwhile, even Big XII Media Days gave fans more excitement in a single tattoo on Brandon Carter’s skull than the Pac-10 had in an entire day. Clearly, Pac-10, you guys need an adrenaline shot, but we, the SEC, are willing to provide it. How ’bout we loan Clay Travis out to you for future Media Days, just to liven things up a bit? Once you’ve watched Aaron Corp field the question of whether he’s saving himself for marriage, your eyes will be opened to a whole new world of possibilities.

[hit play, then read on for maximum effect]

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

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

(more…)

Our fearless leader files this dispatch from the road:

A quick scene from the airport today. A family of downhomey UGA fans sent off a pair of clearly foreign, Nordic-looking teen boys back to the cold, godless land from whence they came. They stood ahead of me in line at security, clearly emotional. Though they did not share a language, the angst and tears in their eyes made their feelings for each other clear enough.

And as a parting sign of their love, they had decked out both head to toe in the ultimate Georgian’s sign of affection: spanking new Bulldog gear.

It was moving and hokey simultaneously. In fact, I’m still thinking about them as I board, especially because just after I wiped a tear away, I told TSA they were speaking in Arabic and looking suspicious, and they were hauled away for cavity searches.

Hugs and Go Gators,

Orson

Welcome to our Factor Five Five Factor Preview of West Virginia at Colorado. If this seems loopier than usual, we blame the lack of oxygen up here. In Atlanta. At 1057 feet.

Ahhh, blackface: do you ever fail to amuse? GO BIFFS!

Category one: Nebulous Statistical Comparisons of Dubious Validity. For West Virginia, we will select the number 5380, or the number of feet above sea level that Folsom Field sits at give or take a few feet here or there depending on how the location of your seats and how much Boulder-standard zoink weed you’ve consumed prior to entry.

West Virginia fans are very, very, very concerned about this number:

Every time I write something about Bill Stewart’s reluctance to make a big deal out of the altitude problems playing in Colorado, the e-mailers come out of the woodwork. They relate personal stories of the difficulties they’ve faced adapting to altitude and begging someone – anyone, please – to convey the seriousness of the situation to West Virginia’s coach.

We would pay at least thirty dollars to read one of the more impassioned one of these e-mailers. (more…)

Dan Hawkins, given the full profile treatment by Robert Allen Powell of 5280 magazine in Denver, and whoa, holy hell do we never, ever want to be around Dan Hawkins at 5:30 in the morning.

“’Tis the maddest trick a man can ever play in his whole life, to let his breath sneak out of his body without any more ado, and without so much as a rap o’er the pate, or a kick of the guts; to go out like the snuff of a farthing candle, and die merely of the mulligrubs, or the sullens.”

Tommy Bowden is uncomfy with your favorable assessment of his football squad, sirs:

The Tigers, who capped last season with a 9-4 record and ranked No. 21 in the final Associated Press Top 25, seem to be everyone’s pick to win the ACC. Well, that was until Tuesday.

Clemson coach Tommy Bowden did his best to fan the flames on his team’s hot projections while talking with the media following his annual media golf tournament at The Reserve at Lake Keowee. Bowden even speculated whether his team deserves to be a top 10 squad when the AP and the Coaches polls debut in a few weeks.

Thus far, every preseason magazine has picked Clemson as a preseason Top 10 as well as the favorite to win the ACC’s Atlantic Division.

“I would say it would be premature,” Bowden said.

Setting aside the fact that we’re almost positive “fanning the flames” connotes exacerbating, not lessening—what is this, Oberlin?  Are we to expect “A for effort” stickers to multiply on the helmets of the purple Tigers throughout the season?  TB, we’re as puzzled as you are to see your team creeping up the polls, but forth, and fear no darkness, brah. The ACC is largely devoid of entertainment since the fall of Miami.  Let’s see some showmanship.

The Clemson Tigers:  An alligator in spelling.

Hulu.com should not be news to anyone, at this point.  It’s one of those sites that’s been around kinda forever that you still get breathless OMG!!!1-encrusted emails from your maiden aunt about every few months.

That said…this particular section is news to me.  Here are FOX and NBC’s big 2008 bowls, in their entirety, plus a bonus play-by-play cutdown of the ‘07 Fiesta Bowl…no fees, no registration.  The commercial interruptions are infrequent, the A/V quality astonishingly high for a free site.

Anybody having a long day?  Need a little ESS EE CEE SPEED in your cubicle?  How about the entire 2008 BCS Championship game?  You’re welcome:

Long road to August, boyos.  Kick back a spell and enjoy the next best thing.

This veil of reality, it is but a mist few may see through, a trifling rush of wind through the bamboo. The hurry-up offense is but a trick of the mind, merely a normal offense seen through the prejudice of your paltry perceptions of time. The freshman All-American guard you see? He was a fullback all along, and you just did not see it, so preoccupied were you with the chaos of the moment.

I lift not the weight; instead, it lifts me.

And that lonely vandal who defaced the multipurpose bubble…just a blind spirit who didn’t get good parenting, man.

Hawkins confirmed the school’s new multi-purpose bubble was vandalized recently. A Buffs banner once hung on the east side of the bubble but someone recently scaled the bubble, swiped the banner and left several words in spray paint that has been washed off. “It was some kid that got cheated on love and disciplined by his parents,” Hawkins said. “I can guarantee you that.”

He feels for him, and forgives him. Such is the way of the master.

By Holly, who reminds you that when the zombie war comes, machetes do NOT need reloading.

Their names were shouted in exultation or bellowed in impotent rage across the SEC in 2007. You know their stats by heart, lived and died with their triumphs and tears. But in this age of bioweapons and nuclear experiments gone horribly awry, there are more important matters to ponder; namely, how each of these college football notables will aid your survival when the wrong red button is pressed and the zombie hordes rise to enslave us all. You’ll need the best of the best (SEC speed = fast zombies). The essential personnel:

Rich Brooks thinks the undead hordes are bullshit. This will not save him.

The Buffoon Who Got You Into This Mess: Michael Henig, QB, Mississippi State
How He’ll Save The Day: When jumping from rooftop to rooftop to reach the river/gun store/barricades, will carry the season to its logical conclusion by mistiming the flinging of his own form and being intercepted, so to speak, by a less than sturdy awning. As he is tugged with agonizing slowness from the canvas, the undead hordes will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape.

The Decoy: Blake Mitchell, QB, South Carolina
How He’ll Save The Day: Will be assigned as lookout while the rest of the party stocks up on ammunition/canned goods/fuel, and upon seeing an approaching zombie attack party, will inexplicably fancy himself a hero and run outside, waving his arms and capering about to distract them long enough for our heroes to lock and load and hop into an appropriately sized truck. The undead hordes are not amused by dancing, and will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape.

The Cloyingly Self-Effacing Hero: Erik Ainge, QB, Tennessee
How He’ll Save The Day: Sneaking past the gibbering masses in the dead of night, will slip on a discarded shotgun shell and break both legs in the fall. Will implacably insist on not being carried because He’ll Only Slow You Down, and will accept no comfort—but does gather all remaining grenades. After the explosion, the hordes will fall upon his flesh and the flesh of their shredded comrades, allowing you to escape.

The Hothead: Knowshon Moreno, RB, Georgia
How He’ll Save The Day: With tears in his eyes and an unearthly battle howl in his throat, by completely losing his shit and barreling into the penultimate wave of zombies at full force, ripping and tearing their limbs with his bare hands. A valiant effort, but the thing about zombies is there’s always Just Too Many. The undead hordes will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape.

The Shrewish Love Interest: Colt David, K, LSU
How He’ll Save The Day: After spending the entire ordeal displaying gradually more obvious signs of crumbling and generally slowing everyone down, will drop to his knees shortly into the sprint over open ground to safety, wailing that It’s Hopeless and We’ll Never Make It. The undead hordes will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape.

The Cheap Shot You Don’t See Coming: Kyle Jackson, S, Florida
How He’ll Save The Day: As you stagger over the final hill between your sleepy little borough and the haven of the convenient nearby military base/open sea/arms of Orgeron, will burst inexplicably into flames and fall in a shrieking, ineffectual heap at the crest of the ridge. Cold and raw or sizzling in the skull—brains is brains is brains to a zombie. The undead hordes will fall upon his flesh, allowing you to escape. Fade to black.

T-Tubb, if he can get his boys to aim those chop blocks at the neck, might stand a chance.