Myth: Les Miles is doing it again! Getting whole term life insurance! Driving without a seatbelt! Going for it on 4th and a bajillion!

LSU is a program surrounded by a fog of mythos and mystery, with mythos being the Greek word for “pollution, the faint whiff of a fetid grease pit, bay leaves, and bourbon fumes.” Spray this mixture into a Tiger household, and every member of the household instantly leaps to their feet and begins gyrating wildly, eating dirt, and talking about “the God Who Comes.” By that, they mean a young 1985 Les Miles returning from the past to the present wearing a half-tucked Michigan shirt and looking rumple fresh from going for his fourth “conversion attempt” of the night with an Ann Arbor Betty.

Les Miles is Mary Ann Forrester. He’d agree as long as he actually watched True Blood, and if you admitted he had a better ass.

If Saban was the architect who built the Mardi Gras float, decorated it, and then bolted the wheels on smoothly, Les Miles is the man who then took the float, loaded the thing up with boobs and beads, and took the wheel for a wobbly and occasionally irresponsibly fast and bumpy ride. Saban maintained a good steady level of total dickishness while at LSU; Miles, in contrast, is an engaging, gregarious sort happy to jaw with the media on a small level while shutting up on the big stage. (With notable and quotable exceptions.) Saban’s brand of football, while effective, has the feel of someone killing someone for money; Miles, on the other hand, would be the kind of dashing rooftop chase scene where one opponent, down to their last bullet, kills the villain mid-monologue while clinging one-handed off the nose of a gargoyle. It’s fun, but it will take years off your already bourbon and butter-shortened life.

LSU fans know what you’re going to say: Les Miles was just winning with Saban’s players, and woooo aren’t you bullfucked now, sonny boy! To Miles’ credit, he did not lose with Saban’s players, winning 34 games in three years and winning the most bass-ackwards of all BCS titles, the 2007 National Championship where Miles went for 895 4th and shorts, made 895 of them, put his salary on black on a riverboat casino, doubled it, and then pointed a fully loaded Glock to his head, pulled the trigger, and giggled as the hammer clicked down harmlessly without firing.

He also had sex with a Snapper lawnmower on full blast just to prove a point. The blade on that thing was shredded.

It was that kind of year in 2007, but history only repeats itself as farce, not as duplicate. (more…)

Good morning. Ricky is an Alabama fan. Ricky wears boat shoes indoors. Ricky takes Alabama football very seriously, and sometimes gets very excited about the games. Ricky sometimes uses words he shouldn’t, words your boss wouldn’t like, and one word that black people definitely do not like. Ricky doesn’t care for your table either.

(Seriously NSFW audio. Don’t even try it.)

Son, Nick Saban likes the intensity, but not the lack of composure. You have to put yourself through the process to become a champion, and in your case that process is probably a series of rubber restraints during the game mixed with some Haldol and half a handle of Jim Beam. It’s worked for us for years. If that fails, there’s always toaster abuse to take the edge off a tense moment in a game. Oh, and you won that game, Ricky.

Ricky, one last thing. The n-word can only be used by three white men ever: Will Ferrell as Robert Goulet–NSFW!–, Slim Pickens in Blazing Saddles, and Rex Kramer, Danger Seeker.[also NSFW] Otherwise, it is completely verboten, like wearing your goddamn shoes inside, you heel.

Follow our fearless leader’s foray into the belly of the NFL Draft here.

Clever girl.