As part of our ongoing ripoff of SWPL called “Stuff ____ and _______ People Like,” the EDSBS Staff presents “Stuff Orange and White People Like,” an analysis of things Tennessee Volunteer fans like. Enjoy.

Pitchforks and torches. A nine-win season is cause for satisfaction elsewhere in D-I, but in the SEC and Knoxville in particular, it’s a blight. Any win total under double digits lights up the AM radio dial with orange faithful ready to gut their coach like a catfish of astonishing proportions. Going 5-6 in 2005 brought, concurrently and consecutively, collective apoplexy and vows of silence—they still can’t talk about it. Bring up The Season Of Which We Do Not Speak to a Tennessee fan and his eyes will glaze over in rage or incomprehension. Either way, Does Not Compute.

Orson’s note: Wonder who those people in Frankenstein who, when confronted with a problem, immediately rush to get a.) an impaling instrument, and b.) fire? For any problem? Tennessee fans, that’s who. They’re threatening Frankenstein because, with some time in the weight room, he could be the next John Henderson, but noooooo, he wants to kidnap maidens and accidentally drown little girls in lakes all day like a bad monster.

John Henderson rocks fat titties all day, by the way, despite playing for a team we despise. “BLOOD MAKES THE GRASS GROW!” comes from his sideline rantings in college, and he also did this, which is now how we wake up every morning.

We do it just like that. Except the wife does it with a padded white glove, and she does it softly, so as not to knock my exfoliating facial mask off. Sometimes she gets a little too into it, and some of the dust lands on our white oxford shirt! It’s a funny time, the mornings in the Swindle house!

HFCS That’s high fructose corn syrup, friends, and it is a fact of natural law that the highest concentration of HFCS swollen people on the planet reside in Tennessee. (more…)

By the EDSBS staff.

We care, just like a tiger does: with their claws and teeth first.

Tennessee has a minor, eeny-tiny-bit of a discipline problem, and not the sort that professional paste-eater and push-door puller Mike Freeman suggests should end up in the firing of Phil Fulmer. (Mike: Tyler Durden IS the narrator!) Fire him for being only good to excellent, sure; we’ve seen that in the SEC before. Fire him for blackmailing Trace Adkins with incriminating gay sex photos into performing at his daughter’s birthday party. (Unsee that, dear reader, and you have achieved enlightenment. We just typed it, and will not eat for several days.) Fire him for picking up field mice and bopping them on the head, and then dipping them in panko crumbs, deep frying them, and eating them during film sessions.

Fire him for any of these, but not the juvenile aborted Liverventures™* most Vol players get arrested for these days. The Vols just need a special blend of caring, discipline, and caring discipline outlined below. Because we care. We really do. In that kind of foster kid kind of care, the one where you don’t buy them fresh produce, turn on the heat for them in the winter, or buy them clothes that fit.

Actin’ Straight with EDSBS: Vol-arity Edition.

1: Pat Summitt. This doesn’t even have to take longer than 15 minutes. Simply invite Pat over, have the winningest coach at Tennessee ever come to a Vol team meeting and then allow her to rip each of the Vols’ gridiron types a new, perfectly torn second asshole. Summitt is the kind of thin-lipped, wiry, kerosene-eyed women who drove schoolbuses in my childhood: very, very quiet schoolbuses. There were rumors one kid, once, had spoken, and that only a red mark the birds liked to pick at on the school driveway stood as testament to her wrath. The team would be a lot like that schoolbus for the next year, at least.

2. Hedge mazes outside dorm entrances. Bull your way through fifteen rows of thorny hedge without bleeding to death? Do I smell starting defense?

3. The ChastiT belt. Fierce, made of stainless steel. Adorned with picture of John Chavis on codpiece for extra contraceptive power. (more…)

It’s HATE WEEK!!! Joel from Rocky Top Talk answered our five questions, and we answered his over at RTT. We also appeared on the Corn From a Jar podcast, where we discovered why we left our birthplace: we speak far faster than anyone else in the state.

Courtesy of the Gatorsports FulmerFark thread.

1. Are the rafters squeaking in Knoxville from Phil headed out the door? Would we be stretching if we called this late Imperial period the Butterdammerung?

Being from Tennessee, you should know that the sun nevers sets on dairy products. Or if it does, they are fresh and new each milking morning. Or something.

There is a certain segment of Vol fans that is dissatisfied with coach Fulmer and always will be, but Fulmer has friends in high places with fat wallets. Fulmer’s really in a lose-lose situation: if he has another Season of Which We Do Not Speak ("SOWWDNS"), no amount of support from donors will save him, and if he wins another national championship, he’ll merely buy himself another eight years on the Throne of Perpetual Torridity. It’s the price one pays for a $2M+ salary.

2. How does it always happen that Tennessee and Florida meet each other in games with complimentary weaknesses? (We have no dbs, you have no wideouts, etc.)

That is odd, isn’t it? I blame Chris Leak.

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Lamarcus Coker, Tennessee Vols starting tailback and alleged savior of the Tennessee run game, will only be running stadium stairs for the immediate future as he has been suspended indefinitely by Phil Fulmer for violating the team substance abuse policy.

Yes, go ahead and play this during the rest of the piece. We’re Florida fans. We know from pot-smoking athletes of astonishing ability. Plus the protagonist is named Smokey, a name Tennessee fans feel great affection for already.

Sadly, as indicated by the Rick James soundtrack above, Coker allegedly did not live up to his name by being caught with his snoot in a furrow of fine Peruvian pep powder, but rather by reportedly being caught generic weed, which at Florida would earn him a tidy suspension for the Cal game at best. Coker’s not helped by being a multiple offender at this point (it’s his second drug-related offense,) or by his being the test case for Tennessee’s new drug policy. The policy gives athletes extra “strike” counts, increasing from three to four, but makes those reinstatements a more arduous process, including mandatory counseling sessions and the like.

So Coker’s likely not shot the Vols’ entire season in the foot with the finest of Cletus’s turkey-killin’ blunderbusses…yet. He is suspended indefinitely, a punishment which Urban Meyer called “harsh.” That suspension could easily be lifted in time for substantial playing time, we think, given the rules in place. The really humorous part: Fulmer initially announced Coker’s absence as the result of a “medical condition,” which plan to break in as soon as possible in our day job.

Boss: So you’re not coming to work.
OS: No, it’s a medical thing.
Boss: What kind of medical thing?
OS: The kind that makes Widespread Panic sound reaaaaaaaaaaal good right now, actually. (COUGH)

In the meantime, like Smokey, Coker ain’t got shit else to do. We suggest he beat up neighborhood ruffian Deebo with a brick to boost his status and help redeem himself in the eyes of the community. And by “Deebo,” we mean “Phil Fulmer.” Trust us–we have no ulterior motives whatsoever.

Damn right I want four Tequizas. Now.

In looking for signs that Phil Fulmer is guaranteed job security for life, we lean on Mark Bradley suggesting that he’s going to be fired in the first week of December. A sportswriter going on the record with that kind of certainty is like having the CIA pronounce a country as “stable” and “bound for prosperity,” meaning that it’s seconds away from bursting into flames and becoming thirty different countries all ending in “–stan.”

Yet for those looking for signs of impending doom, you can either monitor the sales of batter fried porterhouse calzones at Calhoun’s (”Eat the Whole Thing, And We’ll Throw Your Dead Body in the Tennessee River Free Of Charge!”) or just rely on the fact that satire has brought you the Talking Fulmer. If fire[nameredacted].com is any indicator of sites devoted to mocking coaches, Fulmer’s days are numbered like the calories in a package of pork rinds, though nowhere near as numerous.

(HT: Angry ‘Eer from LWS.)

PS. Because we’re doing little more than just sitting on ass today (our own, of course,) we’ll be live-blogging the College Football Live show on ESPN today. You have been warned.

We usually get out the harpoons when the words “Phil Fulmer” appear on our radar–both because we dislike him, and bringing down something that big requires the use of serious tools. But Gene Wojeickdasdfhosqwkui of ESPN.com has to go ahead and highlight the positive side of Solomon Grundy’s soul we didn’t want to believe existed.

Fulmer’s first fundraiser dinner earned the Jason Foundation about $12,000. “I thought we raised the national debt,” Flatt said.

If Flatt asked Fulmer to call a kid who was struggling with depression, the only question was, “What’s the phone number?” And he didn’t hesitate when Flatt asked him to talk with parents who had lost a son or daughter to teenage suicide.

DAMN YOU GENE WOKEJFKDSCWHATTHEFUCKEVER! We don’t want to mention that Fulmer not only has a soul, but works with a foundation that works with teen suicide prevention, and calls them personally, and gives them money. He is pure, dumb evil, Gene Unspellable! How much did it cost you to write that article, huh? Two grand with expenses?

Well now, think of the cost to our veil of willful ignorance, Gene. That was priceless. PRICELESS, DAMN YOU! Now we’ll have to think of some other way to type “Phil Fulmer is very, very fat” every time we mention his name, like “Phil Fulmer is calorically imbalanced, or worse yet, “…is very jolly.” You have raped us with your tale of Fulmer’s generosity and kindness–and not even in that funny “clown being raped” funny way, either.

Fulmer, seen here with Charlie Daniels, raises money for a good cause. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Blogtoberfest! For all your vital Penn State fishing news.

Senator Blutarsky thinks Bernie Machen’s push for playoffs at the SEC meetings in Sandestin this week ended ignominiously as presidents hedged on the idea, coaches threw their hands up in resignation, and the bang of Machen’s public posturing ended in a whimper:

The story here is lowered expectations.

He’s got no specific plan. “There are no specifics,” he said. “It’s a concept. Do we want to look at a playoff? There are more plans than there are Carter’s pills. The plan will evolve if the people want to do it.”

We think it was less about a schedule of:

Monday: Mention playoffs
Tuesday: Powerpoint “WHY WE NEED A GODDAMN PLAYOFF”
Wednesday: Book the stadiums for new, perfectly coordinated national college football playoff.
Thursday: Poppin Dom, clockin’ hos at Donut Hole with Tubs and Mike Slive.

…and more about just being annoying enough to lay the foundation for a “Solid South” behind a playoff, showing the interest and will to have a playoff to solicit interested bidders. It’s about signalling the possibility at this point, not getting the ink on the tv deal in three weeks, and reminding everyone of interest that it’s not going away, even on the docket of the most monied conference in the land, because in the end the real money for universities lies in a playoff package sold to networks for a gazillion dollars.

In short: Bernie Machen seems content to kick, push, kick, push, and now coast into coming year before being just as annoying at the meetings next year as he was this year.

As for why he’s suggesting that the money should be spread to all D-1 schools… (more…)

Some names are too legendary, too genuinely special to let go. Tennessee’s recognized that and responded promptly by hiring on former third stringer Jim Bob Cooter as a graduate assistant, keeping the name close to where it belongs: Knoxville.

Cooter returns. Alleluia.

Between Cooter and Mike Hunt, the vajayjay-themed humor quotient in the SEC just went, like, Trevigintillion-big.

“Cooter’s keeping cool in the heat with a new hairstyle: shaved.”

“Ainge has learned a lot from Cooter: where to put it, when to go deep, when to go short, and most importantly, when to pull it out and run.”

“Weather’s going to be an issue today, especially with communication between the coaches and the quarterback. Cutcliffe’s in the box, which is dry. But Ainge has a very wet Cooter on the sidelines to help him get what he needs.”

“Ainge throws a pick! And wow, that’ll make Cooter hot every single time.”

Thanks to Tennessee’s human resources division for making this happen. We needed new jokes to drive into the ground, and lo, like pennies from heaven, they’ve arrived.

A repeat winner of the MOTD, but a worthy one: Albert Einstein. Al gets the double nod due to this newly discovered photo, which reveals both his unique system of organizing the personal and the private in the public eye and his little-known love for mixing college football and physics.

That’s one thorny problem he chose to solve there–in fact, most scientists agree that he likely never did. The final item on the list was accomplished later that day in an event historians of science refer to as “The Trinity Clouding.”

Einstein: continually begged Princeton to nut up and start a real football team.

Thanks to aspiring graphic designer Brian, we have a scoreboard at last:

Brian’s design received a few more voice votes in the legislature on Friday, trumping the fine work done by reader Peter. (Peter–people just like shiny things! Mmm. Shiny things.)

The scoreboard will hopefully be updated weekly, and will (as requested) feature the Family Feud Theme music on opening.

With the good people over at Sports Argument Wiki keeping score, all we lack now for a proper Fulmer Cup season is a regularly updated scoreboard. Being the jankety operation we are, we rely on our readers for chip-ins for things like food and updated graphics, which you deliver promptly and expertly whenever we ask. (Reader ‘Fesser bought us dinner last night, actually–a very nice one. We repaid him by taking him to the Clermont Lounge. No, it’s not a fair world, and we’re not helping it.)

Hospitality, or cruel joke: no one’s really sure about a visit to the Clermont.

We’re still accepting submissions for a new Fulmer Cup scoreboard, and need input. After the jump, please find reader submissions. Be gentle–they took valuable time out of their day to do this.
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Spring practice still miles away, with proverbial Auburn starter leading the way, right, practicing while there’s still frost on the cowflop at the Barn? No. This year’s early starter is Tennessee. How early?

Oh, try yesterday.

Phil couldn’t wait ’til March to rock.

We’re all set to go with this wildly speculative recruiting piece when reader Craig pointed this out to us. For those of you looking for analysis, numbers, and incisive commentary, well, blame Craig, people. Blame him and the wonders of Flash animation.

For those who would like to watch fat, fat Phil Fulmer chase donuts, you’re in luck. Fulmer is kind of on the brain today, since we did have a honking brontoburger for lunch today, the sort of prey Phil downs like Starlight Mints. We’ve also been thinking about him because Paul pointed out the fact that Fulmer, despite having a street named after him on the Tennessee campus, has gone seven years between BCS bowls, the longest streak for a coach with BCS experience.

If you want more bizarro from the maker of this fine piece, check out his YouTube page here. For those of you on prescription medications, you have been warned. You may confuse what you are seeing for nasty contraindicated side effects, which they very well might be.

The cheese plate, if cheese were information flowing through the RSS reader.

–Brian’s counting down the top ten college football moments of the year, because Yakety Sax never, ever gets old. We’re sure the top ten will also include this:

–In coaching searches, the interview process usually generates more interest and insight than the eventual announcement of the winning candidate. Lane Kiffin impressed at his interview for the Minnesota head coaching position, but didn’t get the job, which went instead to Someone Named Tim Brewster, which is exactly how we’ll refer to him from now on. Charlie Strong also got an interview, a boon for the SEC because it shows that major programs outside of the South pass on the opportunity to hire obviously talented young coaches simply because they are black*.

–Speaking in the key of race-baiting: sportswriters may rejoice that Charlie Weis is still white and Ty Willingham remains black, since it’s great fodder for filler columns. And in same article, see Bob Davie, announcer! Aficionado of ze camel hair jacket! Possessor of an unusually shaped cranium! And lastly, partisan ex-employee par excellance:

`When you lose to Michigan, you lose to USC and you lose to LSU in a bowl game by a significant score, there will be ramifications from that for Charlie Weis,” Davie told ESPN radio, according to the Chicago Tribune.

“Notre Dame has had two successful seasons, two BCS bowl games in a row, but I think it’s hard to say that the program is really going in a positive direction right now.”

Again, EDSBS is not liable for all damages incurred by flying office clutter or computer equipment tossed across cubicles upon reading that. Any and all inquiries may be addressed to John Wilner at Mercury News. Your cooperation is appreciated.

Sunscreen! Sunscreen, goddammit! WEAR IT BEFORE THE SUN STRIPS THE FLESH OFF YOUR SKULL!!!

–Ole Miss is hiring a defensive coordinator, the lackluster John Thompson. Thompson should be remembered as the man whose ‘bucket ‘a minnows’ defense (more…)