Woody Hayes nude: censored because he was illegally beautiful.

Go ahead and call him ugly, Leonard…

“If the team lost or tied, he would conduct an interview in the nude,” said Downie, as reported in The Lantern. “He was an ugly guy so it would clear the locker room out pretty fast.”

But can’t you balance that with the kind of womanly compliment usually following a statement like this, as in “he was ugly…but Woody was always sexy,” or “A post-loss nude Woody Hayes conference was like staring into the sun: so intense and powerful you could only endure a few seconds of its awesome grandeur?” Mighty uncharitable, as we’re sure Professor Hayes, while lacking physical grandeur, had his own ramshackle physical charm about him. (”He has nice forearms! His eyes: have you seen his eyes?”)

As opposed to a Pete Carroll nude press conference, where presumably reporters would leave in tears of joy and awe saying things like, “It was so…beautiful…”, “like David, but better hung,” and “It was like watching a new child enter the world, but without the shitting and hideous afterbirth.”

And then, after the jump, another hot piece of tail from the weekend.

…tiene tremendo CULO!

By hot, we mean temperature-wise. You could bake profiteroles in there. A whole pan of ‘em, we’d guess.

It may be hard to notice or believe, what with the ugliness of a potentially regime-crashing scandal unfolding at Iowa, but a recruit displayed the kind of white-guy speed we only expect from Iowa football players and the occasional meth addict. In the case of the meth addict, we mean the kind of agility and speed one can only have bestowed on you by the power of a police helicopter lighting you at night in a high-speed foot chase.

Riley Reiff, who doesn’t have the requisite barbed-wire bicep wreath yet but assuredly will in keeping with Iowa Honkie Lightning Bolt standards, led eight policemen on a 20 minute chase on foot while “half-naked.” The article mentions the eight policemen to set up a Keystone Kops vibe, since if there is a God in Heaven this whole thing happened in double time to ragtime piano music.

Reiff proved to have a sense of humor once caught, since after causing mayhem in the kitchen of the Pita Pit and zipping around the entire city al fresco en parto, he refused a breathalyzer test, ostensibly because he found the request beyond reason and thus funny. Me? Drunk? How dare you sir! Where are my pants?

Reiff was an incoming freshman, though, and thus technically not eligible for points. It bears mention, though, because it is awesome and awesomely mentionable.

Arr! Say ahoy to me fist! ECU scores three points off an assault with serious injury charge. The victim was found in the street, meaning that if this did start in a bar, the answer to “How well did the victim follow Chuck Liddell’s Barfighting tips?” is “Not well at all, sir.”

Addendum: As for our likely winner going into the final month of competition, well…

Warning: this video contains male nudity. And by male nudity, we mean specific glimpses of the asscrack, testicles, the taint, a bit of flapping tackle and a brief and horrifying shot of the man’s actual butt-hole on the way down. (Yes, we looked.) If you don’t like male nudity, you should watch anyway, because this man gets hit harder by Symonds than anyone got hit by Florida’s secondary last season.

We love the reaction of the in-house crew to the announcement of a streaker: applause, cheers, streakers. That and the color guy suggesting that “That was the first tackle of the State of Origin match” make this at least the ninth-best thing we’ve seen in 2008 thus far.

“I’ll be honest, practice sucks,” Lemmens said. “But Friday, getting on that plane. That’s why you work so hard. Kentucky, those fans were so pumped up.

“And LSU, full grown men mooning you. And not just mooning but spreading. I got to know that guy a little too well.”

Seeing a grown man’s spread buttocks and the tail end of his alimentary canal? Who says scholarship athletes aren’t paid? This also provides further evidence that LSU fans have taken to the spread attack brought to Baton Rouge by Gary Crowton in ways he could have never possibly imagined in his worst nightmares.

We…no, fuck that. I’m speechless. Nay–teary. We love Luther Campbell, and he’s reached the end of a long, torturous hejira back to the ‘Canes, the team he loves and unfortunately used to pay from time to time for good play. For the man who popped into a Miami club on My Hood on MTV, grabbed the mike, and used this phrase as his intro…

“All the ladies got good pussy need to scream right now!!!

…is back in the fold. Everybody drop it to the floor where you stand right now in honor of the world spinning correctly on its right axis again. Why ESPN is going to be in Blacksburg on opening day and not in Miami for Uncle Luke’s triumphant return to the tune of “Doo Doo Brown”…well, that’s just one more reason why ESPN’s circling the bowl, isn’t it?

Quoth the bard: “Them titties? Scarred, Scarred, Scarred.”

The Ladies crew in conjunction with EDSBS have created the ultimate in playbook science: how to make love to a specific kind of sports fan. Since we’re all a little different, you need to know how to turn the corner on a toss sweep of a Volunteer fan’s panties, or turn a routine swipe of the bat into an inning-ending double play with a Red Sox fan. It’s knowledge the world needs, and we’re giving it to you cheap as free, internets dwellers.

The first installment? Our own unveiling of the intimate secrets of: HOW TO MAKE LOVE TO A FLORIDA FAN, written by EDSBS Senior Gator Copulation Tactics Correspondent Orson Swindle. Holly and Texas Gal’s guides on how to make love to Texas and Tennessee fans will follow. That’s actual women writing about sex, and not the “women” you chat with on AOL who turn out to be state troopers.

How to make love to a Florida fan. Start by being Good Chris Leak, not Evil Chris.

Again, how you lived without this we’ll never know. Warning: contains sexual language of such a frank and unbridled nature that it would make Trick Daddy blush.

HOW TO MAKE LOVE TO A FLORIDA FAN

Oh, Florida fan. You love scoring, and tonight I will hang fifty on you by halftime and have you begging for more. And that, Gator, will just be the start.

You cannot be prepared for fun, or the gun, that this bull gator is bringing to your wallow tonight. Both are unprecedentedly awesome. I can honestly say that you are not prepared. Like Fred Taylor, you will be perpetually injured after I freak you like I’m gonna. Like Chris Leak, you will go down in a beautiful crushed heap again and again. Like Steve Spurrier, I’m going deep on you tonight. Like Ohio State’s offensive line, you will be penetrated deeply, frequently, and completely.

And in the end, there will be no need for overtime, because you are about to be Swamped. Brace yourself, Gator fan.

I’m about to show you my Tim Tebow stiffarm without using my arms. Consider yourself warned.

The pants? Thigh-high jorts of the finest quality. I wear a shirt both tantalizing enough to tan my ripped, tattoed arms, but subtle enough to let you know that when I read the sign that says “No shirt, no shoes, no service,” I am a gentleman who can push the rules, but live among the brotherhood of men with a unique mix of panache and respect.

The shirt I am talking about is a sleeveless shirt with extra-wide vents. Because heat like this could kill a man if I don’t let some of it into the surrounding environment. It is a real danger–you will understand this when I take it off and extend a glass of fine Franzia to you, my sun-roasted flesh exuding the look of melanoma and pure raw male sexuality.

“Thunderstruck” by AC/DC will play in the background. I will pump my fists in the air and bang my head, and watching me rock you will want me so badly that you will shed your tube top and jean shorts and begin begging me to run the spread option on you without delay.

And I will, Gator fan. I will make you earn the Miller High Lifes we will consume in between bouts of love-making as intense as Urban Meyer mat drills. I will make you so hot that Sister Hazel will sound like pleasure to you afterwards because of the association of it with my Ol’ Ball Coach-like strategy and Urban Meyer-esque intensity in my lovemaking. That is just how talented I truly am, Gator fan: complete and utter sonic shit will sound like spun audio gold after I am through with you.

You will never smell Speed Stick Sport the same way again, or pass a Comfort Inn without thinking of the sweet, scaly humping you once received in one of their 2000 worldwide locations. The mere sight of the ice bucket and its lonely plastic wrapper will remind you of the pleasures we shared together while watching Bloodsport and banging babyblocks one exquisite Saturday night.

Oh, and we’ll do it in the butt, too–because we’re about the future at the University of Florida, and the ass is the pussy of the future. We totally have to do that. And you’ll like it, because I’ll be wearing my Oakleys and telling you to take it like a Bulldog in Jacksonville.

This is how sensual and loving I can be, Gator lady.

Room 214, Comfort Inn, Williston. I’ll be waiting. Just listen for the Molly Hatchet–because missing this opportunity would truly be flirting with disaster, baby.

Ciao,

Orson

In simpler math: seven points. It’s a touchdown for Maurice Purify, Nebraska wideout who was arrested Saturday night on two counts of assault and one of resisting arrest following an alleged bar fight in Lincoln, Nebraska.

Police say Purify and a friend were denied admittance by a doorman at a Lincoln bar Saturday night.

Police say Purify threw a punch at the man. Police also say Purify also assaulted the man’s girlfriend when she intervened.

You tell the manager that Maurice Purify is going to eat…his…family!

Total: seven points for Nebraska, whose coach Bill Callahan is “very concerned” about the incident.

At least his players aren’t running naked around the halls, or god forbid roller-skating naked through them. That would be real trouble. (We don’t see any football players in there, but given the pictures and alleged pictures of Notre Dame quarterbacks that have been floating around recently, we’d believe it if you told us one was in there.)