Matthews: Wha…what happened?

Albert: …

Matthews: I was having a beer at the Copper Monkey one second, and then…nothing. I just want–

Albert: (Raises a finger to his lips. Um, the place where his jaws come together. Whatever that is. There.)

Matthews: What do you want from me?

Enter URBAN MEYER.

Meyer: Shane, I only want you to do what is required of you.

Matthews: I…I don’t understand. I just pointed out that in the Ole Miss game they played man-to-man the whole game, and that we didn’t take advantage of it, and–

Meyer: Shhhh…Shane. You understand the present and the past, Shane. But now…to the future.

Matthews: These are chafing my wrists. I have a show in 45 minutes, Coach. Now, I’m sorry you took offense to what I said, but they pay me to tell it like I see it. What are you doing with that bottle of water and rag, I–

Urban: I want you to understand this. The thing I have for you here is the worst thing in the world. It goes beyond fear of pain or death, it unendurable, and it varies from person to person. In your case, it is your opinion being drowned out by others.

Shane: No…NOOOOOOO—mRRPHHHGGHHHHHH

Urban: Shane, there will be no loyalty, except loyalty towards the Gator. There will be no love, except the love of the Gator. There will be no laughter, except the laugh of triumph over a defeated enemy, unless it is Auburn, and we don’t get to work on that for a few years. There will be no art, no literature, no science that does not proclaim the name of GATOR or his only son TEBOW across the land. There will be no curiosity, no enjoyment of the process of life. All competing pleasures will be destroyed. All that will remain is the word GATOR.

Urban stops pouring the water. Matthews chokes, gags, coughs, and screams.

Matthews: WHY? Let me go, I’ll do anything you want, just do let me drown.

Urban: It’s just a taste of what awaits you in Seat 37F if you ever dare to criticize so much as a hair on my program’s proverbial head.

Pours water a second time, allows Matthews to breathe after 15 seconds of the treatment.

Matthews: THIS IS TORTURE!!!

Meyer: No, it’s not. It’s love. I’m just trying to protect our program, Shane. Also, I prefer the term “Facially Administered Tracheal Aquamassage,” Shane. And it sounds like your lungs are still a little tense, and could use some more treatment.

He pours more water. “Orange and Blue” plays faintly in the background.

(ps. This is slightly old cheese anyway, as it echoes previous statements Meyer’s made regarding criticisms of the program, fits right in with his Woody Hayes-ish tetchiness, and happened last week.)

Something’s been bugging us about any and all commentary surrounding the I-formation in Florida’s playbook, and we have to take a moment to swat it out of the sky like King Kong batting away a hapless biplane.

The I-formation isn’t anything new in the Meyer playbook: it’s been there all along, and was first cracked out at Florida after the 2005 LSU debacle where Chris Leak struggled in the spread, Florida lost despite LSU handing the Gators multiple turnovers, and Urban Meyer cried after the game. (DURRR FAGG KRY!!! There. We said it for you.) Its reintroduction this spring is nothing new for the offense.

It’s not new for Tebow, either: Tebow’s tried taking the ball from under center in previous springs, and encountered the same oddity each time. That oddity? A left-handed qb taking snaps from under center needs someone who can snap the ball left-handed. The angle’s a bit different for both center and qb, and causes a left-handed qb to reset the ball in his hands if the snap’s coming from someone who snaps right-handed.

This is one of those tweaky little football things one would assume is very simple (i.e. Mike Leach’s “I can teach a pro qb to take a three step drop in an hour” thing,) but is actually more difficult than any coach would like it to be. Tebow’s new center this year will be Maurkice Pouncey, who as a new center has quite enough piled onto his learning curve already. Relearning how to snap in the tiny window of practice time available already is likely too much for Meyer to really want to mess with beyond experimentation.

Started every game there last season. Damn you, multiple Pounceys, hole-ridden brain.

(We know as much–don’t seem shocked–via actual football-like sources. Don’t look so shocked. They don’t mind talking to us as long as we’re never seen in public with them, and we pretend we don’t know them in social situations.)

There’s also the matter of fullbacks, h-backs, tight ends, or other people providing the primary block out of the backfield for a tailback. Right now, Florida has no one doing an adequate job out of the backfield for this, meaning the position of the Latsko-back (named for universal football solvent and all-around badass Billy Latsko, who played the position in 2005-6) is empty. Personnel-wise, the I-formation on the depth chart looks less like it’s name, and more like the colon formation: two dots with an empty space in between. (And the results would be appropriately shitty on the field! Hat-CHAAA!!!)

Moreover, steaming along at 40 plus points a game, Florida doesn’t need it. It would allay sub-mongoloid NFL scouts about Tebow’s abilities, but frankly that’s not something a coach should be concerned about if they want to keep their sanity or respect for the rest of humanity. Matthew Stafford is as perfect an NFL prospect as Disco God has every put on this planet: huge, cannon-armed, versed in a drop-back passing offense, and cognitively capable of doing whatever is asked of him re: a playbook. And even he’s getting scrutiny beyond the pale of what might reasonably called sanity.

They’re going to hate him anyway, so you might as well run your offense and let talent and ability win out in the end. The rest will be twirling and prancing to please a critic whose favor you cannot by design win.

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

If Iowa State fans are buzzing about ex-Tennessee coach Phil Fulmer, Bobby Bowden asked, then why not another former coach who built up a winner in the Southeastern Conference? Why not his son, Terry?

“The thing about it,” the Florida State football coach told The Des Moines Register on Thursday afternoon, “is that even though he hasn’t been coaching in the last eight or nine years, he’s still been (covering) ballgames every Saturday and he sees what people are doing and knows what the trends are and he’s kept up with it. Being out of (the profession) for so long, everybody’s scared of him, (but) it’s not because he’s lost any of his knowledge of the game.”

Look. He wore a tie and everything.

It is STUNNING that Bobby Bowden, when discussing a coaching vacancy, would suggest one of his sons. He has three unemployed football coaching sons to suggest, so perhaps Terry seemed the most needy at the moment, but it is hard to evaluate Bowden’s midnight departure from Auburn in the same light now that we’ve watched Auburn’s failed 2003 putsch of Tuberville and his chaotic ouster this year. It simply doesn’t seem as insane as it once did to suggest that Bowden–who actually won games at Auburn and, like Tuberville, got the axe after one bad season–might deserve another shot.

It is Friday, because we are agreeing with Bobby Bowden, and surely hallucinating from lack of sleep. Where’s our afghan? And our comforting mid-morning pudding? (HT: OPS.)

#11 Ohio St. at #24 Northwestern

HOLLY, QUASI-RATIONAL: Relax your bedtime grip on your Glocks, America. Ohio State has two losses, and the universe can breathe easy, safe from the specter of a third-straight Buckeyes champblahblahblahBig10bashing. Statistically, these teams are surprisingly well-matched, but….look, we’d all love to pick Northwestern, adorably ranked after a victory over Minnesota, but if pluck guaranteed wins, we’d be celebrating the single-digit ranking of Texas Christian (HOW DARE YOU PUSH US TO ACCEPT UTAH AS A LEGIT TEAM, HORNED FROGS).

ORSON, IRRATIONAL. The force is strong in the young one…

…but this is episode five, and he loses his hand to the Dark Lord.

Baylor at #4 Texas

ORSON, QUASI-RATIONAL. If Baylor had the chops on defense to hold Colt McCoy in check, we’d happily tiptoe over to the pond of tribute bets and salute Art Briles and Robert Griffin for revivifying Baylor football. We would, really, it’s just that Texas just lost to Texas Tech, something they’re not accustomed to doing, and will not play the part of scalded dog two years in a row. Baylor gets inflame-u-lated by a frothing mad Texas team.

HOLLY, QUASI-RATIONAL: Robert Griffin, most impressive. Howevah! Texas is clinging to their top-five slot with all their considerable strength, with the added incentive of having Something To Prove after last week’s heartbreak in Lubbock. Despite their sub-subpar pass defense, the Longhorns have more than enough personnel to keep bodies on Griffin all afternoon.

#13 Georgia at Kentucky

HOLLY, QUASI-RATIONAL: You could call this game on intangibles–Georgia will be as surly and smashy as they’ve been all year and have presumably reconstructed their collective throats since their most recent Cocktail Party debacle, plus their last visit to Lexington didn’t go so well–but why bother? The Dawgs are an all-right football team on their worst days, and outclass Kentucky in every category that matters. The Wildcats are bowl-eligible, to be sure, but it comes on the backs of such vaunted opponents as Norfolk State, Western Kentucky, and Loovill. This one won’t be close.

ORSON, QUASI-RATIONAL. Georgia is not the better team top to bottom; take THAT EXPECTED FOOTBALL CLICHE. Kentucky’s got the better defense, but too bad for them this is football, where sometimes one must score. Georgia can do that because they’ve got this offense, and do really well when they’re not giving up drives to opponents that start on their own one yard line. Kentucky fans prefer basketball ARP ARP ARP ARP.

Wyoming at Tennessee

ORSON, QUASI-RATIONAL: Joe Glenn’s market value peaked long ago, and in a five game stretch prior to breaking universal slump-buster San Diego State the Cowboys were outcored 207-30 by their opponents. We feel some FAIL comin’ on hyah, and would take at least 90 teams in division one over the Cowboys sight unseen. Holly will explain further reasons why taking the Cowboys borders on the tardbilly-ish.

HOLLY, ACTUALLY RATIONAL: If you managed to sit through Fulmer’s press conference on Monday without squirming yourselves completely underneath the couch cushions, you got a taste of the general tenor of the UT locker room. The players are bound to be out for blood, and to not particularly care whose blood. Tennessee by a hundred and fifty or so.

#1 Alabama at #16 LSU

HOLLY, IRRATIONAL: Instead of picking, let’s treat ourselves to a festive round of Nick Saban Projectile Bingo. Center square if he gets hit with an egg. Fill the rest of your card, in any order, with: bottles, batteries, dead bats, live snakes, pots of boiling peanut oil, actual shrunken heads, glowsticks, empty mace cans, and vials of plague strains. Oh, and here’s to an LSU win, because Alabama at number one is fucking awful, the end. Light ‘im up, Tigahs.

ORSON, IRRATIONAL. John Parker Wilson has taken the Brandon Cox Mantle of “OH MY GOD WE LOST TO HIM” Qb for this year. Bama Bang’d, rag-armed, prone to taking sacks with audible feminine shrieks, and with his supporting cast totally unbeatable thus far. The shame of victory will sting even more as he attempts 20 passes, completes 12 of them for piddling yardage, and yet gets to trod from the bourbon-soaked sidelines of LSU clothed in glory…and LSU fans’ spit, of course.

#3 Penn State at Iowa

ORSON, LUDICROUSLY IRRATIONAL SHONN GREENE SHONN GREENE SHONN GREENE.

If the weather’s awful, consider the Iowa victory a done deal due to the inverse relationship between crappy weather and the performance of white athletes. (Only remaining fields of dominance: cross-country skiing, biathlon, and blizzard wrestling.) We just don’t want Penn State in the national title game, are open about this, and don’t think Mark Dantonio and all the properly worn neckties in the universe can get the Spartans to beat the Nittany Lions.

(Final note: an undefeated Penn State team belongs in the title game. Logic overcomes homerism…just barely, though. It was wrong when it happened to Auburn; it’s wrong here, too.)

HOLLY, IRRATIONAL FOR YOUR OWN GOOD: C’mon, Penn State. Drop a game you shouldn’t lose and lose the ranking you shouldn’t have. Nobody wants to deny old what’s-his-name a title shot based on sentimentality and your bullshit schedule, so give us an excuse to slot in a more deserving squad and you’ll be free to enjoy a pleasant berth in one of the remaining big four bowls. Let’s not cause a scene, now.

Kansas St. at #14 Missouri

HOLLY, IRRATIONAL: We owe a debt of gratitude to Mizzou for dropping out of the top ten and saving us from the effort of shoring up our rapidly depleting stock of Chase-Daniel-is-old-and-delivers-pizzas-in-his-copious-spare-time jokes. For this, Tigers, and because KState is f’ing woeful, we ch-ch-choose you. Prevail, if you please.

ORSON, QUASI-RATIONAL. K-State is horrible, Missouri is not, grab a shovel as Mizzou makes a minced ass pie from the butt-end of the Ron Prince carcass.

#21 California at #7 USC

ORSON, QUASI-RATIONAL: Jeff Tedford, pre-season: icy genius, steely-visaged pro-style thinkbot waging cold warfare amidst the primitive ankylosauruses of the college football landscape, a technical scientist fighting against sloppy, emotive artists.

Jeff Tedford, mid-season: 6-2 and about to lose to Pete Carroll. Again.

HOLLY, QUASI-IRRATIONAL: Isn’t it entertaining, every November, to watch P-Car wax angry about how very number-one-y his team would be if they hadn’t dropped a cakewalk game for no reason? Like the return of the first robins of spring, only EVEN MORE REDDER AND AWESOME JACKED I’M LIKIN’ IT BRAH—yeah, whatever, USC’s complacent but they ain’t bad. Trojans.

#9 Oklahoma State at #2 Texas Tech

HOLLY, IRRATIONAL: [Lazy-assed OOOOOH, TAKE TEH OVER Y'ALL LOLZ bit] Texas Tech. Texas Tech will win this game, depressing Mike Gundy just enough to accept a generous offer from the University of Tennessee to become the next head coach of the Volunteers. He will bring Trooper Taylor back to Rocky Top; recruiting cachet will soar, the new clock rules will be abolished, Rick Neuheisel will go rapidly and unattractively bald, and unicorns with lollipops for hooves will roam the sidelines of all D-I schools at will.

ORSON, QUASI-RATIONAL: When faced with good defenses, Oklahoma State has refrained politely from scoring points by the gross: 24 against Texas, 28 against Missouri…strike that. Mizzou’s defense is not good,and they still sputtered against them. When let loose by the secondary and unpressured upfront, OK State will disintegrate a defense. With some pressure, though, they become only excellent on offense, and “only excellent” against Texas Tech will get you tortilla’d in Lubbock.

#5 Florida at Vanderbilt

Orson, IRRATIONAL. We’ll be there, and need tickets, because what has two thumbs, applied too late for a press pass, and wants to see Florida train a few orbital death lasers on an overmatched and offense-challenged Vandy team? THIS GUY.

HOLLY, IRRATIONAL: Vandy has a proud history of playing Florida tough when they have no business doing so. This, however, is no ordinary Florida team. Gators saunter through this one at a casual, deadly pace.

Your preferred tailgating beverage is:
A) Beer
B) Milk

Your go-to antiseptic in event of injury is:
A) Beer
B) Milk

You drive to the game in:
A) A pickup truck that seats four.
B) A family van or SUV seating no less than ten.

You like your jeans to be:
A) Cowboy tight.
B) Ironed with a crease every time.

Your mascot:
A) Is a nightmare engine that SPITS BLOOD FROM ITS EYES DAMMIT WE DON’T CARE WHAT THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL SAYS ABOUT ANTS
B) Actually killed a relative of yours three weeks ago.

Show me sexy.

You think breast implants are:
A) Hot and worth it
B) May I give you some literature?

Shotgun weddings are:
A) A fact of life
B) Redundant

You have a year’s worth of food in the house because:
A) You keep a Texas-sized kitchen YEEEHAW
B) Because your religion requires you to.

Your first sexual encounter:
A) In the back of the truck.
B) Through a hole in the sheet.

Your favorite polygamist:
A) J.R. Ewing
B) Joseph Smith

I drill for a living, baby.

You are threatened by:
A) Wolves, lightning, economic insecurity, your current partner’s exes, and earthquakes.
B) Black people.

Your women are best kept:
A) Barefoot and pregnant.
B) In Keds and pregnant.

Your quarterback got the starting job:
A) Because he is named “Dalton,” and by Texas law anyone named after the lead in Road House gets whatever they want.
B) Because of his pinpoint accuracy.

Pencils down!  Those answering mostly A are natural TCU fans; those answering B will find their reward with BYU. This has been a public service of EDSBS and Swindle Industries, LLC.

LISA SALTERS:  Well, Bob, we’ve set up a series of motion-activated cameras and microphones throughout the stadium, in the hopes of capturing footage of the rare Syracuse football fans in their natural environment.  It’s a technique pioneered by–Bob!  [hissing]  BOB!!

BOB DAVIE [quietly, urgently]: Don’t move.  Their visual acuity is based on motion.
[cautiously reaches into pocket, removes bag of corn nuts, shakes it]
Hey.  Hey.  We’re not gonna hurt you.  C’mere, little guy.  C’mon.

SYRACUSE FAN [slumping into frame]: …Can I help you?

BOB DAVIE:  It’s all right.  Everything’s gonna be all right.  Want a corn nut?  Do ya?

SYRACUSE FAN:  Uh…sure?

BOB DAVIE:  There you go.  Isn’t that nice.  Oh, Lisa, look, he’s shaking!

LISA SALTERS [cooing]: It’s OK.  It’s OK.  You’ve had a rough month, haven’t you, little fella?

SYRACUSE FAN: Well, I mean, we lost our first three games by a combined total of over seventy points.  One of those losses was to Akron.  We just managed to hang on against Northeastern, of all places, so yeah, I feel like the bag’s pretty justified at this–

BOB DAVIE:  Bill!  Bill, are you getting this?  I think he’s trying to communicate!  Are we getting this, Bill?

SYRACUSE FAN:  …uh, anyway, like I was saying, Coach Robinson seems like a nice enough guy and all, but it’s come to a point where all this neverending positivity just seems almost farcical, y’know?

BOB DAVIE: Lisa?  Lisa, can you get close enough to touch him?

SYRACUSE FAN: Wait, what?

LISA SALTERS: I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetie.  Ssssshhhh.  Ssssshhhh.  [delicately pats paper bag]

SYRACUSE FAN:  I…I mean, I’m a rational guy.  I recognize there are rebuilding years in every program, but all we hear is “gradual improvement” this and “learning all the time” that, and at the end of the day, what kind of curve are we talking about?

BOB DAVIE:  Lisa!  See if he’ll eat a corn nut out of your hand!

SYRACUSE FAN: Because I don’t know about you, but I come here to watch football, not plate tectonics–hey!  HEY!!

LISA SALTERS [attempting to push corn nuts through hole in bag]:  Bill, are you getting this??

SYRACUSE FAN:  WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!    THIS ISN’T A FUCKING PETTING ZOO.

LISA SALTERS: Look, he’s sitting upright!

SYRACUSE FAN:  I’M A HUMAN BEING! SYRACUSE FANS ARE PEOPLE!  WE’RE PEOPLE JUST LIKE YOU!

CAMERAMAN: See if it likes Fritos!

SYRACUSE FAN:  SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS [rips off paper bag, bolts for nearest wall, climbs with astonishing speed to rafters, where he perches, hissing and spitting]

BOB DAVIE [turning to camera]:  The Big East, ladies and gentlemen:  It’s bat country. I’m Bob Davie, EEEessPEEenn.

Tressel said Thursday there was lingering soreness for Wells in his right foot after he worked out the night before. Wells did not practice with the team Thursday morning.

It’s healthy, and means you’re in touch with your feelings.

In addition to upping the point spread considerably, the lack of Wells OBVIOUS FOOTBALL POINT COMING means SERIOUSLY OBVIOUS the Buckeye run game will be considerably diminished, meaning USC will DURRRR-HURRR tee off on Todd Boeckman at will. It also means that, in more colorful terms, Rey Maualuga will be sitting just over a crouched offensive guard at the snap quietly murmuring “I come in peace, I didn’t bring artillery. But I am pleading with you with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I’ll kill you all.”

In summary: Beanie Wells’ foot doesn’t work, Rey Maualuga still frightens us, and Marines r kewl. That is all.

Enjoy.

Gameday Remixed is sponsored by Gillette, which reminds you that only Gillette can help you “Look, Feel, and Fuck Your Best.”

Cornelius Ingram, TE, has a torn ACL according to Joe Schad on ESPN. It’s not the worst news for Florida, who has a potent replacement in Aaron Hernandez coming up, but it sucks royally for Ingram on a personal and karmic level. Ingram came back for his senior season, thrived at TE after moving over from qb, and has been the ho-hum oh just perfect citizen as far as being a credit to his school, team, and the utterly awesome name “Cornelius.”

You know what really broke his ACL, though, according to Urban Meyer? That damned celebration, of course. Urban Meyer hasn’t forgotten about that.