We slammed a fifth of Powerthirst after waking up this morning, and the Curious Index is now the FURIOUS INDEX! Thus, it’s only fair we start things off with something satisfyingly harsh, like Pantera in front of tens of thousands of angry Russians. Mind the language, of course, but it’s likely your boss might care a bit more about the fact that it’s Pantera than if an F bomb gets dropped. Plus you can’t even understand any of the lyrics anyway.

Who the hell is “Terrelle Pryor”?: Recruiting minutia for those of you who care about this stuff… some Pryor kid, who seems more interested in basketball than football, has committed to the “University of Ohio State.” aren’t they in the MAC or something? Regardless, we expect this to have absolutely no effect on the college football world for the next four-five years. None whatsoever. We’re certain that Michigan faithful would rise up with pitchforks and torches and throw Rich Rodriguez into Lake Huron in 2010 anyway. Anyway, worst kept secret turns into not secret at all, and the other members of the BXI now have their excuse why they plan to lose to Ohio State 90-0 for the next four years.

June Jones cares about defense, pants: An alert reader sends us this tip:

But here was the big surprise — June Jones was coaching the defense. Seriously. I expected him to be right behind the quarterbacks talking to them about everything, but instead he had a notebook in his hand and after each play he’d flip it open and show something to the defense — I’m guessing a formation he wanted them to line up in. He even lined up as the right end a few times and at the snap would take a couple of steps into the backfield, like a rusher.

Picture evidence, which is too large for the constraints of this site, is here. There is no denying, now, that SMU is controlling Jones like Scientology. First, the clothes: Jones, who used to dress like a bad mix of a Jimmy Buffett fan and Bernie Focker, is posing in suits with the SMU brass. Now the former Hawaii coach thinks he’s a defensive guru. Don’t be surprised when, by July, Tom Cruise hears June’s name, thinks he’s a girl, and instinctively gets him pregnant.

Did we say “aggravated murder by arson?” We mean “misdemeanor.”: Charges against a Penn State player have been dropped. No, this is not a repeat. This time it’s Tyrell Sales, cited last Saturday for hollerating, and charges have now poof disappeared. This follows a long line of exorbitant Penn State charges that haven’t even come close to sticking, which just goes to show what happens when you hire Fericito as your attorney general. The Big Board will reflect the adjustment, assuming it was ever changed in the first place.

Did you have a good day with your bracket?: Yes, so did everybody else. It’s not like you had Georgia in the Elite 8 or any… oh God, you did, didn’t you. It’s okay, you didn’t need that money. Your wife can live off canned food for a while.

This post is brought to you by Three Inches of Bloodsport (WARNING: Pops directly to loud audio, workers beware), the greatest concert you will attend today. Click the link, leave it open for 15 minutes, and bask in the glory. There’s nothing you can pay money to see that’s half as entertaining. Nothing.

Goodbye, gorgeous: Those of you who are still members of the Virginia Tech Hokies, please raise your hands. Not so fast, Brandon Ore. Or Marcus Vick (What’s he still doing here? Security!!!). Ore was unceremoniously dismissed from the team by Frank Beamer yesterday, citing factors that, though comprising dozens of words, all sound exactly like “tired of his shit.” Ore is a redshirt senior, which means he’s about to make a I-AA team very happy next fall. Until they tire of his shit too, of course, but whatever. In the meantime, SMQ breaks it down harder than the fifteen seconds before Hammer Time.

Nothing going on today: Boy, it’s just a lazy Thursday, isn’t it? Football’s over five months away, most teams aren’t in on the spring practices yet, baseball’s a few days away… not much to talk about in sports at all, is there? Nope.

Oh, that: Yes, it’s the greatest day for college basketball, and here I am running EDSBS. This makes so much sense. Orson has taken the correct approach to filling out his bracket: a massive dose of firearms. Good luck with Belmont!

Hey look, the trustees think they have a say in the matter!: Penn State trustees have announced that they’ll be looking at the Joe Paterno situation at their next meeting, which is adorable. Joe Paterno will take the field at Happy Valley next fall, either under contract or by Napoleonic force. Mock his diminutive stature and zoological classification of “mangoblin” if you must, but Paterno has the resiliency that only comes from absurd science fiction, like Rocky or Rudy or The Little Engine That Could (in real life, all three would have been sold for spare parts). Plus the last time PSU AD Tim Curley tried to talk to JoePa about leaving, his marriage was ruined.

—UNC Galleries and the full size of the above photo are here.

—Sooner practice gallery hyah.

—Clemson photo galleries here–fresh and uncut. Punny!

If you’re starved beyond belief and ready to seize without football, you could head down to Auburn and catch spring practice. (What? Opelika’s got an airport. Resisting cow joke telling urge resisting cow joke telling urge.) Auburn’s working in both new offensive coordinator Tony Franklin and defensive coordinator Paul Rhoads. Today’s shocking revelation: Rhoads is different than Muschamp.

“I can already tell he’s going to be a great teacher,” Powers said. “If you screw up with Rhoads, he’s going to let you know just like Muschamp. Muschamp might have let you know a little more violently. Just comparing the two, they are great teachers and great coaches. They are passionate about football.”

Violence: exactly what we look for in our defensive coordinators, masseuses, and gardeners. Auburn’s qb are throwing way, way more passes in practice than they had under Al “Gorgeous” Borges, up to hundreds of passes a game, according to practice reports. Pat Dye, on hearing the news, wept big fat old man tears.

Meanwhile: Texas is ideating like WHOA with new blood Muschamp and Applewhite.

Point is: even if you peak early, you’ll still have a peak. That’s more than most people can say about…well, about their lives, really. And in trying to write your “WOOO freshman who you should watch!!!” column, you’re looking for players who through massive graduation losses, sheer ineptitude by coaching staffs, or dumb luck could have the chance to alter game plans singlehandedly.

They typically tend to be at skill positions like running back, where quick-twitch nothink can get someone very, very far on talent and gall alone. Guile and technique take time, which is why linemen take years of coaching and investment to grow save for the umbrella-handed natural Orlando Paces of the world. There’s a few in there as well, but as you’ll see they’re of the obvious sort. (Hello, Marvin Austin.)

A few of our future Walker/Vick career path selections…

Joe McKnight, RB USC. Potentially horrifying scatback-y type from Louisiana who already fit the USC mold coming in by embroiling himself in a minor recruiting controversy. Allegedly runs a 4.3, allegedly shifty as Juan Pablo Montoya on a road course, and definitely loaded with blue-chip reputation burden. Fortunately for him, so is everyone else at USC, so he’s in good company, even in a packed backfield. Carroll (hearts) freshmen, and could use McKnight as Reggie Bush was used early in his career, making appearances on third down, in the slot, split wide, and hopefully not skeezing a free house off a semi-retarded sports agent under his coach’s nose.

Joe McKnight: elusive, as Les Miles and Ed Orgeron found out the hard way.

Noel Devine, RB WVU. Noted physical freak with academic shortcomings, Devine has qualified at last and is heading to West Virginia. Given the slew of speedy, option-friendly talent already stockpiled there, Devine would seem to have a year of chopping in front of him. Consider that his coach will be Rich Rodriguez, the best offensive mind in the game today and someone who will find a way for Devine to carry the ball: double halfback sets, direct snaps, wheel routes out of the backfield, bubble screens from the slot, fumblerooskis…he’s creative enough to get Devine snaps.

And with recruitnik-porn like this hanging around, why not:

Simply having him on the field simultaneously with White, Slaton, Darius Reynaud (underrated–he’s Matrix-move untackleable at times,) and WVU’s improving corps of receivers poses angina-inducing problems for Big East DCs. Scoring, as usual, will be the norm in Morgantown. Given the charity of the Mountaineer’s 3-3-5 defense, this is good news.

Arrelious. We’re already striking the last name a la Pele, Cher, and Oprah. Arrelious (nee Benn) will get his share of looping jump balls this year and undoubtedly snag a few in the watching eyes of the Midwest media for a number of reasons. First, a young quarterback desperate for reliable receivers (see: Juice Williams) will heave the ball to the tree-sized Benn all day if he can. Second, [NAME REDACTED] is desperate for wins and buzz, since two years of insomniac recruiting has garnered him exactly 4 wins. Third, the “youth movement” recruiting pitch has, along with [NAME REDACTED]’s pimped-out golf cart, been the crux of Illinois’ recruiting strategy.

Sex on wheels: [NAME REDACTED]’s golf cart brings ‘em in.

Last year they threw a panicked Williams out at qb for the wolves just to show their commitment to youth (see: Chris Leak, ‘03). Illinois will do the same with Benn this year.

Donovan Warren, CB Michigan. California corner who could break the playing time envelope thanks to the departure of Leon Hall, Michigan’s only real corner of note. A steal for Michigan in the rubber chicken wars who could pay dividends nigh-immediately, especially given the nice cheatsheet USC gave the universe on how to beat Michigan. (Helps to have USC’s ample stocks of robot talent, but still, throwing on every down to the same receiver in an unfair matchup against a flailing Wolverine corner helps.) A blue-chip bandaid on a bleeding wound for Lloyd Carr should increase his mood to “Moderately Grizzled” going into summer camp.
(HT: Brian.)

A.J. Jones, LB Florida. It’s good being Chris Rainey, sure. But in a position depleted by graduation, A.J. Jones could step into the recent succession of freshmen animal linebackers at Florida with ease. He’s already acquired a reputation for thunderous hitting in spring practice, having knocked Mon Williams into orbit on a hit that took him out for the season with a knee injury. We know that factually, the knee ligaments snapped of their own accord, but we’d like to think Jones hit Williams with such impact the knee simply had to break. With the dapper Brandon Spikes should combine to form two-thirds of a concussion-friendly defense across the middle.

Correction: Jones is coming off a redshirt year due to injury, so is not a true freshman. He is still a budding badass, however.–ed.

This was Jones as a junior in high school. This should also explain why you likely did not get a D-1 scholarship, since we couldn’t do anything pictured in this video after six months with a personal trainer and given three pregame lines of high-grade nose candy:

Marvin Austin, DT UNC. 6-3, 300 lbs, and runs a 4.9 after downing a McRib or six. One of the few linemen with real potential to alter blocking patterns simply because the rest of UNC’s got so far to go on the talent differential. Should pick up a few of those satisfying, qb-enveloping Kodiak Bear sacks where he blows up his block, swallows the qb, and then falls on his shoulder with all of his barbeque weight. Think about that image and tell us you don’t crave football right now, dammit.

Austin will also learn the value of conditioning; with UNC’s offense possibly going pass-wacky due to a complete lack of run personnel, the Tarheels defense will be running 10Ks on Saturdays backwards for most of the season.

Marvin Austin bring 300 pounds of happy to a potentially dreary rebuild for Butch Davis.

Von Miller, DE Texas A&M. Lightish at around 220, but buffets and squats should take care of that. Miller’s chief asset as a defensive end is blinding speed around the corner. Not capable of defending the run yet, but could be troubling on passing downs especially paired with established rushing threat Chris Harrington.

Kind thanks to them for allowing us to use their snazzy image: check out the rest of the article at Big Red Network on pain of having Tommy Frazier run you over like so many Florida defenders, blood clots in his legs and all.

Enlightening to us is the overall pattern mattering most in spring games: hope. We knew it mattered, but if a program feels particularly hopeful, the best way to see it isn’t in the panegyrics local scribes spit out every time a new coach rolls into town. It’s in the attendance leap from the prior year’s spring game. (Fans in East Lansing must really, really be vibing off Mark Dantonio.)

It’s also a rough approximation of the value of a head coach to a program. The spring game costs nothing, means effectively nothing, and reveals little about a team. It’s a fluffy event with little driving it besides the need to see something, anything football-esque in the void of the offseason combined with the desire for a rollicking good sunburn to break in your hide pre-beach season.

The only thing a spring game brings with it is buzz–pure jejune hype about a team’s projected potential hypothetical goodness/badness going into the season. And if you’ve got someone at the helm who can make something out of nothing, or god forbid force the groundskeepers to close the doors at capacity for a scrimmage, you’ve got someone who by sheer talent and shine brought them there to park on the lawns, purchase eighty dollars worth of gas, and roll down to what is essentially a non-event.

That’s a stellar indicator of a coach’s value to a program: the one based solely on his reputation as a program manager capable of making what was good become great. Judging from the bottom of the attendance list, hope in that department does not spring in Champaign-Urbana, “excitment” and “getting better and better” be damned. Illinoise had “several thousand” fans at their spring scrimmage in Chicago, estimated at more like 500 by the Big Red guys.

Florida International has now added a new line to their resume as a program of esteem and worth: putting on the greatest single spread of pork seen in South Florida since Connie Mack the third was in office. From El Herald:

The ambience — which included complimentary food featuring six roasted pigs, a sale of retro FIU athletic uniforms and gear and the unveiling of the new football stadium design — didn’t disappoint the crowd.

”I have never seen an atmosphere like this at any previous FIU event with the exception of the inaugural football game in 2002,” FIU radio broadcaster Jerry Del Castillo said. “These fans are really soaking up the changes to this football program.”

Hold on…let’s crack out the red pen, Deadspin commenter-style.

“‘These fans are really soaking up the changes to this football program all the greasy, delicious, heart-destroying porkfat they possibly can in 25 minutes without foundering like sick mules.‘”

There! So much better, and likely more accurate. Free pig and all, FIU turned out just 2,500 for their spring scrimmage, approximately the same number as those who volunteered to die if necessary to make Nick Saban the next governor of Alabama that same afternoon on Saturday in Tuscaloosa, bayonets and tear gas be damned.

–Beautiful, sun blasted Gainesville this weekend, a place redolent with the smell of rotting vegetation, cheap beer, and burritos, and the smell of people actually tailgating for the spring’s Orange and Blue game: that was our weekend, combined with ten hours in the car and a hefty dose of Guitar Hero 2 on Saturday night. (”Beast and the Harlot” is hrrrrrrd, d00d.)

Ahhh…sun-blasted Gainesville. That’s not us in the foreground, incidentally.

As with any spring game, any bit of good news might potentially be bad news, since any amazing block, nifty catch, or clean sack might as a result of poor play on the other side, a side that happens to be the other half of your favorite team. This explains the odd reactions to any good play made at the Orange and Blue game, where an initial WOOOOO usually had a trailing grumble grumble grumble or OHHHHHHhhh accompanying it.

So 40,000 plus at Florida Field turned out to test out their inner Janus on Saturday, cheering but also parsing each play for meaning and import at the same time. Spring games always make us feel like the illegitimate child of the Oracle of Delphi and Ron Jaworski: half the time we’re working Xs and Os in real time from the stands, and the rest of time we’re left looking at chicken innards trying to figure out just who’ll manage to actually play well in real games.

The only clear trends you can take away from the game have to be the most obvious, glaring ones. Like these:

Tim Tebow hates non-contact jerseys. But defenders didn’t seem to mind; on plays where Tebow scrambled or took off on a designed run, he pulled up on two hand touches with an irritated turn, clearly miffed that he couldn’t plow into people. The defender who can bring him down solo will be rare, which you could have guessed. What you may not know is that this year’s Tebow, Cam Newton, showed the same willingness to run headlong into the fray, even if he spent most of the first half dropping shotgun snaps and throwing high and wide over the middle. Quarterback runs, a large part of the offense last year, will only grow in importance as Meyer now has two baby rhinos giddy about dragging the game of football back to the 1950s.

Sore shoulders=touch. Tebow had a sore shoulder for most of spring and it allegedly only improved him. He threw the ball with touch, accuracy, and poise both from the pocket and on the run, going for 217 yards and 3 tds in what was essentially a half’s worth of work.

A sore shoulder made him better. Meyer now plans to hobble him to make him a better runner.

Most of these weren’t the cringe-inducing yields ripped wholesale from a weak secondary, either. Tebow completed tight passes through good coverage all day, including a few on the fake bubble screen which seems wickedly difficult to defend. (The play will certainly be run with Harvin in the slot, forcing defenses to defend him, allowing for a huge gap upfield for an easy reception. Imagining this play run between Louis Murphy deep and Harvin short with Tebow free to run…that’s our porn, people.)

Chevon Walker must learn to pass block. Because according to Meyer, that’s what’s keeping him from outright ownership of the tailback position. He ran for seventyish in the game, most in the first half, breaking tackles and attracting swarms of tacklers before going down. He’s the hardest runner at Florida since Ciatrick Fason, and with a deep and savvy offensive line blocking for the zone read plays, Tebow/Walker will make things very, very nasty on linebackers.

Brandon Spikes can transfer energy very fluidly. Particularly kinetic energy, as in the kind you impart to another object when you hit it. Spikes won the award for most NAHs on the day, cracking pads with a ferocity you don’t naturally expect given his rather lean frame. We watched no one but him for a five minute span at one point. He’s strong and makes pads sing, yes, but his footwork is dazzling; if he weren’t a football player he’d be a wicked tennis pro, because he zipped back and forth in coverage like Q-bert, never getting caught on his heels and breaking up passes with arms that can cover multiple passing lanes with ease. He’s this year’s Reggie Nelson, the brain of the coverage defense who feels the flow of the play prior to anyone else realizing it.

As blitz-happy as Strong can be, he’d be wise to play Tampa 2 more this year with Brandon roaming the midfield. Spikes is forcing us into our second player comparison of the day, since his footwork and telescoping arms resemble no one so much as Derrick Brooks, the fleet weak side linebacker that made Tampa Bay’s cover 2 the model for the NFL. Spikes is either that or Dr. Octopus with better abs. We’re really not sure.

Brandon Spikes: nimble in coverage and on the runway.

Louis Murphy and Tebow can speak with their minds. Receivers got the historical hyperbole gland working overtime: Caldwell, Ingram, Murphy, Harvin, and Fayson seem to be as good as one could pull out of the Florida history barrel at once. (Hey, go back to 96 if you want–Nafis Karim was fifth, and all five of these five pwn him.)

Murphy, though, has some spooky telepathy with Tebow. Murphy went for 129 yards on 8 receptions with a TD, and could easily slide into the Dallas Baker default receiver slot this year. Like Baker, he’s impossible in one on one situations, with long arms, a healthy ability to levitate, and a knack for putting himself in perfectly equidistant position between two defenders in the zone.

Caldwell blazed, Harvin didn’t even play, and Fayson made an absurd one-handed catch. Receiver’s just fine.

Defensive line is still a mystery.DE Jermaine Cunningham ran clean curves around the offensive line, and Derrick Harvey didn’t play, so we’ll assume end is set. Tackle, however, is a toss-up. Brandon Antwine played well in bursts, but no one made the guards and center roller skate backwards until well into the fourth quarter. It’s a potential weak spot, albeit one with immense potential.

So is the defensive backfield. Kyle Jackson still has flammable potential, and did little to assuage that fear on Saturday. The young corners performed well, but still gave up substantial yardage. Whether this is due to WR awesomeness or their own lack of skill is a riddle of spring that won’t be answered until someone goes up top and deep off play-action in the fall. We’ll be casting spells and tossing chicken blood around when they do–consider yourself warned.

Haiku summary of Florida at this moment:

Offense, scoring points
Like rain on slopes of Taishan.
Defense? Mystery.

I am a loyal gator in Miami, but I still think I should supply you and the EDSBS readership with an early Miami report.

New Head Coach Randy Shannon has a gag order on all things quarterback related, which he reiterated to the media during the last scrimmage in which he was pressed for information. To sum up the situation: Kyle Wright was one of the most highly prized recruits his senior year of high school, but has not produced much at Miami. Wright is a typical dropback passer, which would seem to fit well in Miami’s pro-style offense. However, he has not done too well. This could be a combo of never having much time to pass or just being scared under pressure.

It’s been like that for Kyle Wright at Miami.

Reasons he may win starting job: He looks great in the red “Don’t touch me!” and basketball shorts zipping the ball around to all his reads and was the starter the past one and a half years until his midseason injury, which let his competition get time on the field. Kirby Freeman (white guy with a very black name) is another highly talented player for the Hurricrimes. He was considering transferring, but was convinced to stay and now has the ‘U’ tattooed on his shoulder blade. His style of play is to look at his first read, and if it is not there, he’s taking off. He is a pretty talented runner, but not on the level of Demons of the Past (Tommie Frazier, Charlie Ward). Reasons he may win the starting job: Wright hasn’t shown much improvement over his time in Coral Gables and Freeman is entertaining to watch.

Although Shannon’s gag order is on the media, it doesn’t mean 18 to 22 year olds won’t talk when its not a reporter asking the questions. A very close friend of mine works at a pizza shop right across from the Miami campus, and it is frequented by many a football player. He has info from someone knowledgeable of and close to the QB situation that although the job has not been nearly secured by either, Freeman is currently leading. I, nor my insider dough-tossing friend, can speak to how much he is leading or how close he is to being the official starter, just that he is ahead right now.

Kirby–cooking up a starter’s spot in Miami?

As for new coach Shannon, some other players have intimated that when nice-guy/old-man Coker would walk into a room or meeting, the players would still be chatting and finish their conversations. Now when coach Shannon walks into a room, everybody shuts up and all eyes are on him. During last week’s scrimmage, highly touted WR Lance Leggett spiked the ball in celebration after a first down. Shannon asked the ref if that would be a penalty in a real game and the said yes. Shannon then instructed the ref to throw the flag and got in his players face. Miami is not historically a place for discipline, but things do change over time.

Miami freshman watch: Running Back Graig (yes, that is the correct spelling) Cooper has looked amazing. Described to me from some as a juke machine, he took an option pitch in practice and finished it 70 spectacular yards later in the endzone. He in combination with Edgerrin James young cousin, sophomore Javarris James, will be the main focus of the attack of new offensive coordinator, the Devil of October ‘94 himself, Patrick Nix.

There you are: Miami football players eat pizza, are running a bit of the option in practice, and are scared silent at the mere sight of Capitan Shannon. Oh, and Kirby’s looking like he’s about to swallow the competition whole. Thanks again to Redheaded Jewban for his fine work.

Send your own spring practice reports to harumphharumph@yahoo.com.

Reader, commenter, and gentleman RedRoot went to Florida’s practice yesterday and discovered this:

I was able to slide out of work early yesterday and made it for the first part of practice. I few observations from an untrained eye:

Hollywood…phantom? Professional? Paraguayan?

Frightening news on Mon Williams, a microback with an alluring jukiness to him. This does, however, improve the chances of young ones like Chris Rainey possibly seeing the field in fall, so as always: it’s good to be Chris Rainey again.

As for guesses what the “P” in “Hollywood P” stand for:

–Playa
–Pimp
–Penis
–Poondido
–Percocet?

Much thanks to J. for the pics.

Nick Saban kept his first spring practice at the University of Alabama frenetic but not furibund, instructing players on both sides of the ball, shadowing his assistants through manifold drills and exercises for an assiduous 110 minutes–at one point even filling in for the secondary coach’s missing graduate assistant. Cornerback Simeon Castille lasted 45 minutes of the first practice before having his manhood challenged, paying takers on the under a moneyline of 5:2.

Saban, seen here on the practice field, attempts to instill the discipline sorely absent from the previous regime, who, if this sign is any indication, found it necessary to remind the team they were football players, not the Dukes of Hazzard.

Remember: don’t drive your vehicle on the field, especially if your car chews tobacco.

Addressing the players after a team sprint, Saban borrows a Khmer Rouge motivational technique: “Your families have forgotten you; whatever I say is your reality. Today you see but an empty hand. But by the end of this, I will raise an empty hand and you will see a gun. And if I shoot you with this gun, you die!”

This is Year Zero, says Saban.

Although practices are closed to the public, an MQ-1 Predator on loan to the Tuscaloosa News beamed back this video prior to being “accidentally” knocked down by left tackle Andre Smith, who was then secured in his cave beneath Jabba’s throne room.