If you would like to know when the next scheduled one is, we can oblige. It will be for the greatest event of the bowl game lull: the debut of Rakontur’s “The U,” the documentary about the rise of the University of Miami’s football program in the 1980s. Saturday, December 12, 2009 at 9 p.m. on ESPN.

Our expectations cannot possibly be met, since the Rakontur crew also put together Cocaine Cowboys, the epic coke documentary that taught us that success does not begin until you have enough money to support the care and upkeep of two full grown mountain lions wandering our mansion (purchased in cash.) It should still be impressive enough on its own, especially since Schnelly is involved.

Also, if this one fails to live up to our fantasies of the U’s blood-orgy beginnings, we still have the trailer for Dawg Fight, their upcoming documentary on the Perrine Backyard Boxing Scene. Given their already stellar track record, Rakontur is the clear leader to win the rights to our unpublished but insane screenplay for an unfilmable epic about the rise of the Wu-Tang Clan. We finished the scene where Gordon Ramsay steals Raekwon’s coq au vin recipe last night, thus forcing Raekwon to turn to a life of hard crime and rap hustle on the streets instead of pursuing his dream of attending Le Cordon Bleu. Powerful, powerful stuff.

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.

Stefano sings along with the PA music.

We at the Ro-tel, Motel, Holiday Bin!
We at a no tell, coat tail, all the way fin!

I fuckin’ love that song. Brah, you tried to deny the U! You tried! Even when we was at wars in Boise! I couldn’t go because I got stuck in Club Excess for two weeks straight. I almost died, but I got bottle service and lived off the snack mix until I could pull myself out. IT WAS AWESOME.

At random man not wearing Miami gear.

Hey! You! You look like you like sucking dick!

At random woman.

Hey Mami, come here!

Stefano stuffs a pound of hot carne asada into a woman’s cleavage. He eats it motorboat-style. The crowd salutes him by firing their pistols in the air.

You tried, but tha U was waitin’ like Najeh in a closet to shit in your shit, you know?

Know what happened tonight, world? We wiping asses with your fine linens, that’s what we about. WE BACK BABEEEEEEEEEE.

At other random man.

You look like you like it in the ass. Don’t lie. You do.

At crying girl.

Hey, you! You cryin’?

Girl: Yeheheheheheheheheheheheuuusss.

AIN’T NO CRYIN’ BOUT THIS U, BITCH! You see Sean Spence cryin’? HELL NAW. He’s MAKING PEOPLE CRY.

Stefano slaps crying girl. Brahs exchange “U” sign.

We lose Patrick Dicks and get with the Whip-style, and BLAOW. Jacory Harris rippin’ shit. His head ain’t skinny, it’s aerodynamic. Makes his brain go fuckin’ faster through time and makes him eat pussy at supersonic speeds. VRROOOOOOOM! Like a Hoover vaccum with a Heisman.

Hey, watch this!

Stefano screams YOUUUUUUUUUUU for three minutes straight, flashes “U” sign.

You know what we did to you tonight Georgia Tech? Da U is me, Papi, and Tech is your dick-snackin’ ass, and is Mami. I pull up and ask Mami if she need a ride. She’s like, “Where you going?” And I’m like “My house.” Three hours later I’m kicking her out all ragged and shit. That’s you, Georgia Tech, with a sore ass and waiting for Metrobus while I take off in the ride. MAMI YOU GOT MUDDED BY THE WHOLE DAMN CREW.

Eats an entire mojo chicken, drinks five Bud Ices.

YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!

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.

Best lyric: “You can’t block the kick, because it was a pass.” The men are clearly looking forward to Miami’s innovative new “fake punt pass on first down” offense, which would be an improvement on Patrick Nix’s collection of terribly shitty plays, now available as a free pamphlet available on request from Braindeath Publishing House (”Preserving terrible ideas for future generations: Braindeath Publishing.”) HT: The 7th Floor Crew, who also bring us this fine animated gif of COMPLETE FUCKING OWNAGE.

Miami should be investigated immediately for this, but not because it’s against any bylines or NCAA regulations, but because it’s gonna get someone shot. Through the phone. You’re thinking this is impossible, but this is the city with giant pythons lurking in the drainage canals and people practicing unlicensed plastic surgery with the same breezy informality one would normally associate with a mowing people’s yards. If anywhere in the United States could figure out a way to get shot over the phone, it’s Miami.

For the Miami football season-ticket holders still wondering about Tuesday-night phone calls: Yes, that was really Jacory Harris.

The reactions they got from fans ranged from disbelief to dismissal.

To death threats, to santeria curses, to the sound of squealing tires and then rapid gunshots. It’s all part of Randy Shannon’s plan to turn his team into the toughest football team imaginable by having them interact with its citizens, seeing who survives, and them moving on to the less demanding game of football. We’re not saying anything about the program; it’s been squeaky clean for years now, even a bit milquetoasty by comparison to prior Miami teams. It’s the city and their phone-gun-toting residents we fear (and therefore admire a bit.)

We will be celebrating properly, i.e. with wine and explosives, this afternoon. Remember us fondly.

Does the Pope shit in the woods? Quoth the Raven:

[Meyer] turned to me and asked. “Is it OK to make this announcement here?”

I knew what he was going to say because he said something similar when the speculative story surfaced three weeks ago.

Meyer turned back to the golfers and said, “I’m not going to Notre Dame. Ever. I’m going to be the coach at Florida for a long time, as long as they want me.”

OK. So we’re done talking about this now, right? Urban Meyer is coaching Florida. And will continue to coach at Florida. (Finebaum column forthcoming: “Unless he doesn’t!” Tee hee!)

That’s why they make the big bandwidth. There’s scraping by in the offseason content hardscrabble, then there’s getting 700 words out of the hairstyles at West Virginia’s summer strength workouts:

Connolly is no slave to fashion. In his five years here, he has gone completely shorn and shaggy. He is liable to show up with a goatee, a Van Dyke or full beard.

Lazear may be vying with Connolly strand for strand, but Davis’ ‘do, which the DB keeps pinned in with a flourishing pony tail may outlast both of his teammates. Tandy’s hair probably falls a tad shorter than Davis’.

We’re in awe. Truly, madly, deeply.

Still better than I, Robot. This is supposed to look like the Iron Giant or the Tin Man, and other than being made of metal fails completely in both respects. Still, there’s something familiar…ahh, yes. Alabama, the sub-Dreamworks knockoff of football: it ain’t pretty, but does it ever rake in the cash. (Trivia: Terry Bradshaw has a small role in this film as “Broken Arm Bot.” No, no need to thank us.)

The Lord’s work. It’s a buyer’s market for kickoff countdowns this time of year, but the 7th Floor is putting their own…particular spin on an old trick.

This is us, pointing and nodding approvingly at whichever corner of the internet Miami’s staked out. ]]> http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2009/07/14/curious-index-7142009/feed/ 34 http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2009/06/22/youd-probably-do-the-same-thing/ http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2009/06/22/youd-probably-do-the-same-thing/#comments Mon, 22 Jun 2009 18:43:38 +0000 Orson Swindle http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/?p=10692 HOW MANY STARS? Get out the white Escalade and sign that kid, because Rivals says he’s awesome. No, I haven’t seen tape on him. But STARS STARS STARS!!! Sign ‘em, boys!

“I used to go in the coaches’ offices, and sometimes they would literally have Rivals.com up on their screen,” said Matt Shodell, who covers UM and its recruiting for CaneSport.com. “I won’t name the coaches, but they would be writing names down on pieces of paper. I don’t know how much film they were looking at.”

Larry Coker seen here with the number of Miami players taken in the 2009 NFL draft behind him.

Holy jumping hellsocks. The malaise of the Coker era may be somewhat more clearly outlined now with this, since though we used to joke about [NAME REDACTED] doing this at Florida, we had no idea someone would be ballsy-stupid enough to do what you do in video games: hunt for stars and start pressing the ‘A’ button until something happened. This clearly unearths the problem with Larry Coker: he was playing the game on Heisman level, and needed to adjust the difficulty. His kingodom for a thorough understanding of the options menu.

Also worth questioning is the general inaccuracy of recruiting rankings as a whole: if Miami really did just point and click based on star ratings, their track record of success swallowing Rivals.com’s ratings whole is not a great one. Coker’s teams went 19-19 following their loss to Ohio State in the 2002 National Title game, and ended up with declining draft numbers, an inability to compete consistently in the ACC, and the eventual firing of Coker in 2006.

It needs to be said that a lot more goes into a team than recruiting. Contrary to what an NFL scout will tell you, putting a college team on the field takes more than an ability to hypnotize athletically gifted teenagers into coming to your campus. (Thus proving again that NFL scouts are wrong about everything forever.) Coker’s staff could have struggled to develop that talent, particularly on offense, where Miami seemed unwilling to protect a quarterback at all for the better part of four years (see: Kyle Wright, who was hit 22 times in the 2004 Miami/Florida State game alone.)

The iffy results from just taking Rivals’ advice alone, though, shows how important team fit actually is to putting a player in the right spot. Maybe Tennessee wasn’t insane to tell Tajh Boyd to go elsewhere, though we doubt it, because we’re pretty sure Lane Kiffin’s just making this shit up as he goes got it all going according to plan, we mean. Yes. All according to plan.

With the entire rhetorical magazine of the Miami Hurricanes’ fan exhausted for them in one easy intro paragraph, we’ll move to the particulars. Florida does indeed have no plans to face the ‘Canes past the 2013 date, most likely because scheduling another home and away puts a dent in home ticket sales, and that’s not something Jeremy Foley wants to do in a recession economy he’s already said has forced spending constraints on the Florida program. (We’re now down to triple-ply woven silk toilet paper in Meyer’s lavatory. Savage, really, what this is doing to us.)

A better question: why you duckin’ FIU, bitches? We all know the answer. Three letters that contain more asskick than your entire team put together. N-E-D.

10/14/06: Never Forget.

If only we could breed him with SpaceBat and take the next step in human evolution…oh, then we’d be talking progress on a hot skillet, now.

Presenting a matchup so retro one should be forced to watch it with a pair of hot-orange Oakleys on and while wearing a well-gelled mullet: Notre Dame and Miami are considering re-upping for their rivalry game, a series that has been on hiatus since a three-game stretch in 1987-1990 and was dubbed “Catholics versus Convicts,” an unfair accusation towards Miami in so many ways. (Probation is a totally different thing, and if you’d ever done anything fun enough in your life to get arrested for it, you’d know that.)

We’d watch it even if Miami in the 2000s has been less Miami, and more “Clemson With Skin Cancer” since joining the ACC. (Similarly put, Notre Dame would just have be “Notre Dame, but with a lingering bone cancer.)

Notre Dame AD Jack Swarbrick shows off his flair for bland but simultaneously inaccurate rhetoric in describing the matchup on more than just a football level:

Playing Miami is appealing, Swarbrick said, because “they are two great academic institutions. We’re eager to play schools that share our values. There’s a lot of great history around the games.”

We weren’t aware of Notre Dame’s declared love for chunky asses and teetering donks, and was equally ignorant of Miami’s fondness for cold weather and overpaying coaches. There’s no set date on it yet, but talks will resume in April to figure out which slots in Notre Dame’s remaining contract with NBC–good through 2015!–can accommodate the game. If it features anything like converting 3rd and 43 from your own goalline, it will be worth any trouble you care to go through to make it happen.

One glance at the menu backs up the slogan. Fried chicken and smothered chicken wings. Pan Sausage. Liver and grits. It’s all food, as one of your older relatives likes to say, that “sticks to your ribs.

I want an extra waffle THIS big.

Goddamn, that sounds good–even the liver and grits, which for some reason would be delicious in Miami, since for some reason anyone from Miami has the ability to competently prepare the filter-gland and make it taste way better than a body’s version of an air-filter has a right to taste.

It would sound a lot better if whole pieces of it didn’t bypass the digestive system entirely and take up residency in your colon, brain, and aorta, but who the fuck cares: you have to die someday, and doing that without completely wearing out the warranty on the equipment makes as much sense as letting your car die from old age and not from being wrapped around a telephone pole in a fiery 80 mile police chase. Harris is pounding the fish platter and extra waffle to bulk up, as qbs are following the over all trend of getting larger to absorb the pounding they’re taking from the even more swollen likes of linebackers and defensive linemen.

(Willy Korn is the heaviest qb in the ACC at 220, but 30 pounds of that is his cock, because Willy Korn is awesome because his name is Willy Korn, and saying his name in a mantra-like fashion has POWERS.)

He may have to take more of that, too. Miami wants a more “pro-style” feel, which by definition means more formations and more concussions for the quarterback, fewer points, and a vanilla playbook camouflaged with a zillion shifts and one yard runs on first down.

The first point? Miami’s new coaches John Lovett and Mark Whipple ended up in the right place since they had a hard-partying bromance as young assistant coaches running game at St. Lawrence University.

“They were lively, to say the least,” said then-Union head coach Al Bagnoli, now the successful head coach at the University of Pennsylvania. “They enjoyed themselves. They worked hard and they played hard. They didn’t get much sleep.”

Lovett and Whipple, seen here in younger days. Not really. But it probably looked a lot like this.

And that the Seventh Floor is a Valtrex-prescription-having blessing on these internets:

Lovett will be found slumped on the bathroom floor at Black Sheep snorting birth control pills while wearing a half-unzipped Body Glove wetsuit and mumbling the lyrics to “Father Figure.”

Extra BC lines off the ladies’ room toilet are on us, lady and gentlemen.

Is the SEC the default national league? Brother Clay says yes, and get used to it. (So what does that make Raycom, exactly?)

We lost all interest in this Mike Leach contract negotiations storyline right around the time the Dread Pirate Cap’n hired a freaking publicist to organize a student support rally on his behalf, but for the Red Raider partisans and the very, very bored, he can be seen here dropping some science on an adoring public. (Point of order, though: That clause in his contract the department wants to add, about all speaking fees, book revenues, etc. belonging to the University? Group 5, is that kind of thing normal? ‘Splain below, if you would.)

Randy Shannon has had just about enough of your guff. Bryce Brown may lose his spot at Miami if he doesn’t quit slutting around.

Excuses to post this picture? You’re soaking in ‘em!

It gets better, now:

Brown’s own personal mishandler, Brian Butler, told the AP that he was “unaware” scholarship offers expired.

Try and contain your shock; it’s unseemly.

The rest of us, meanwhile, aren’t too wild about grown-ass men changing the pronunciation of their last name to shill for awards they don’t even win. Joe Theeeeesman does not care for your new-fangled snap notions. Blah blah Tim Tebow lacks fundamentals gimmick offense rinse spit repeat.

Items We Require, Vol. 249C: From the makers of Bacon Salt, a spread even Joey Sunshine would love. Quoth they: “Everything should taste like bacon.” You’re welcome. ]]> http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2009/02/18/curious-index-2182009/feed/ 35 http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2008/11/20/factor-five-five-factor-preview-miami-at-georgia-tech/ http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/2008/11/20/factor-five-five-factor-preview-miami-at-georgia-tech/#comments Thu, 20 Nov 2008 21:50:36 +0000 Orson Swindle http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/?p=7787 Welcome to our Factor Five Five Factor Preview of Miami at Georgia Tech A game where a Georgia Tech team beset by injury faces a young and talented Miami team rounding into form at just the right team. Tech would stand no chance in this game save for two factors:

a.) This is the ACC.
b.) The low tonight will be 31 degrees, and Miami dudes don’t like that shit.

The cold is just making us meaner, asshole.

Oh, and the five factors, which really decide who’s going to win this game, after all.

Category one: Nebulous Statistical Comparisons of Dubious Validity. 28.4 points a game, a shocking average for Miami, who we assumed scored points on the Tuberville scale of safeties, coupons, and 54 yard field goals at the gun to end games. For all the bitching about Robert Marve and Patrick Nix’s playcalling, they are third in the ACC in scoring. Whether that’s a triumph of talent over design is a question for the post-season (YES YES THEY COULD BE SCORING NINETYBILLION POINTS WITH SOMEONE ELSE)–what?

The Nebulous State of Dubious Statistical Validity for Tech: 40, or the number of missed assignments for the Tech offense according to the coaching staff. In a system as simple as the Nerdbone, precision counts twice as much as in other systems, and Tech probably won’t be that disjointed against the Hurricanes.

Advantage: Miami, because Tech takes soooo long to score.

Miami, You’ve been factor’d!

Category Two: Mascot: We went to the Duke/Tech game a few weeks ago. We sat on the edge of endzone, where the brick wall fronting the western stands rises to about six or seven feet off the ground. A kid waved at Buzz, and his extremely attractive mother beckoned Buzz to come over and say hello.

Buzz trotted back about twenty feet. He made a “parting the seas” gesture, and we got the fuck out of the way lickety-split. Buzz then took a full sprint, jumped, and while wearing slippery white cotton gloves executed a perfect parkour leap onto the wall, and then up it.

Is this unusual? Nah.

Any mascot that does urban gymnastics with ease and who has parachuted from a plane in the service of the student body earns our vote by a wide margin.

Advantage: Tech

Georgia Tech, you’ve been factor’d!

Category Three: Aura. The Canes aren’t quite invincible booty-shaking thug-god…yet. They could be soon, but this team still has moments of befuddling inconsistency, especially on the side of the ball where they don’t get to just sit back and assault people with impunity. (They’re very, very good at that: 10th in the nation, actually.) The foretold Randy Shannon renaissance? Occurring, and that has aura leaning Miami.

Meanwhile, Tech will have a flyover from the space shuttle tonight with three Tech grads aboard: points to Tech. They are also trying a whiteout: points deducted. Most everyone hates the whiteout: points awarded. This?

“I was telling one of my friends that if we wanted to do something original, we should have a geekout and have a football game at the library,” Pritchett said, “because that’s where everyone is, anyway. It’d be a guaranteed sellout.”

Points (sigh) deducted massively.

Advantage: Miami.

Miami, You’ve Been Factor’d!

Category Four: Names. For a team once boasting the immortal “Ethenic Sands” on its roster, Miami’s a pretty bland slate of football monikers, even with noir detective and heartbroken romantic “Harland Gunn” on the offensive line.

Georgia Tech, though, brings the FIYAH:

Embry Peepless
Elris Anyaibe
Osahon Tongo
Jahi Word-Daniels
Doc Coppage
Jaybo Shaw

Advantage: Clearly Georgia Tech’s here.

Georgia Tech, You’ve been factor’d!

Grudges? Scores to settle? Sheer cussedness? Georgia Tech’s actually won the last three in a row versus Miami. If you need any further complication of the muddle that was Chan Gailey, there you go: lose to Duke, beat Miami three years in a row.

Miami, you’ve been factor’d!

EDSBS FACTOR FIVE FIVE FACTOR PREVIEW SUM: 3-2, Miami You’ve Been Factor’d! Reminder: THIS MEANS BET ON THE OTHER TEAM, which because we’re writing about the counter-counter-counter-counter intuitive ACC, you should probably decide with your favorite game of choice, like Russian Roulette or Cambodian Land Mine Soccer.