This week’s crop of picks covers a week so sparse and uninviting lichen might turn its most noselike organelles up at it. Thus, we return to the quiet, spare austerity of Japan’s ancient poetry form, the haiku, to express our emotions regarding week 12’s slate…which is mostly, like the majority of haiku, about staring at not much happening whatsover.
(10) Ohio State at Michigan
Holly-san:
Understand: God is
Done with you, Wolverines, and
Charles Woodson is fat
Orson-san:
This is not your fault
Greg Robinson. Blame
you, though? Feels so right.
Welcome to our Factor Five Five Factor Preview of Colorado at Oklahoma State. The Factor Five Five Factor Preview examines the Thursday Night Game, the matinee where you get to feel the pre-boob and perhaps side boob of the college football week, but are thwarted when you go for anything below the belt. And with that bit of adolescent horror-memory, let’s get to the real collection of frustrated adolescents, the Colorado Buffaloes and the Oklahoma State Cowboys. One has trouble scoring, while the other can score, but found out that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be in the teen movies and love scenes from contemporary stag films JUST LIKE THE HEALTH FILMS TOLD US IT WAS GOING TO BE.
Category one: Nebulous Statistical Comparisons of Dubious Validity. Colorado has lost ten games in a row on the road, a streak surpassed only by Washington Generic and Washington State With Vibrating Rings For Your Pleasure and Most Definitely Not Theirs. They rank last or next to last in passing efficiency, punt returns, fumbles lost, rushing offense, scoring defense, scoring offense, total offense, turnovers lost, and turnover margin. This team allowed Toledo to score over fifty points on them. This team attempted to stop for a busy crosswalk, hit the gas, and is now wondering why there is a screaming old woman embedded in their windshield. This team is horrible beyond any concept words can convey, and thus we resort to song. Terrible, excruciating Chinese song:
Dan Hawkins’ recruiting is Chinese karaoke howl bad, and it is coming back for an encore thanks to the university being too broke to buy him out, meaning they’ll be sending out the Weber State Men’s Water Polo Team for another year of savage beatings at the hands of the Big 12, but without prize recruit Darrell Scott. (more…)
Take a bow, Woody. From his comfortable, scarlet and gray bungalow in hell (”Heaven: too effeminate for my liking. Schembechler loves the place. Pansy.”) Woody Hayes gets the necessary salute this morning, both for dotting the I in a smashing pair of grey slacks, but also for helping to create Urban Meyer, blessed be his name and his chins. Mille gratz, Coach Hornrims.
Everyone does that, sure. Mark Mangino can be rough, sure. This without context certainly qualified as “rough” talk to a player, with a possible toe across the line of baseline dignity infringement (even if Mangino were black, from a terrible upbringing, and saying this from a position of commonality.)
“Don’t yes sir me, or I will send you back to St. Louis so you can get shot with your homies,” Brown remembers Mangino saying.
What takes this quote from former Jayhawk Raymond Brown into the Asshole-o-sphere is that when Mangino said it, Brown’s brother was recuperating from being shot in St. Louis. Mangino also threatened coaches with their jobs in front of players and generally behaved like a complete asshole to everyone and anyone around him. Defend it by saying “it wins games,” and then look at 95% of all other coaches in the universe who do not act like complete assholes.
Partial assholes, cyborg performance evaluators without souls, hopeless charisma junkies (COUGH COUGH Houston Nutt,) fast-mumbling braheims, sparkle-eyed lunatics, outright con men, and earnest paternal types: they’re alll part of the coaching ranks, yes. But how many of them are sold for spare parts the instant they hit a rough patch?
Mmmm, a delicious fisk. Besides foiling potential hotlinkers with pictures of a man exposing a good stretch of his lower intestine, the internet’s oldest trick is the fisk, the line-by-line dismantling of a shoddy piece of rhetoric. It’s old, it can be done very, very poorly, but fortunately BHGP is very good at it, especially when hitting up Maisel, who normally borders on the unfiskable.
Bonus Dog Strangulation Anecdote. In response to yesterday’s post on how much harder Harvard/Yale used to be (you know, before tetanus shots, antibiotics, and padding ruined our fine sport,) Alasdair (a Harvardian himself) wrote in to let us know just how little of the hardness we really knew about. 1905 may have involved deaths, but 1908 got straight to pagan animal sacrifice. Jackie Sherrill, you ain’t shit:
I saw your post on Harvard football being gangsta, and I must say that any discussion of turn of the century Ivy League football would be woefully incomplete without mention of Harvard coach Percy Haughton’s motivation techniques before the 1908 game against the Yale Bulldogs. To wit:
“Legend has it that Haughton dragged a bulldog out before his players and strangled it before the wide-eyed disbelief of his players.”
Considering Yale’s other nickname is the Elis, I believe current Harvard coach Tim Murphy would probably have to choke a certain New York Giants quarterback before this week’s game to even compete with his predecessor.
Don’t answer the phone, Eli. Those Ivies are trixy, and you don’t want your bleached white skull to become a prop in a Skull and Bones initiation ceremony before it has to. (And it will, Eli. Oh, it will.)
(ps. Strangling a bulldog in front of a horrified crowd isn’t a big deal, as Florida does it in Jacksonville all the time.)
A brief review of the most persistent adwhoring in the commercial landscape for college football this year to date.
Bergwood and Ham/Vincent/Lyingbastardface we don’t even know anymore. I don’t even know who you are anymore, Bergwood and Ham. Or should we call you…Vincent, your real name, Mr. Dick Whitman-I-Blew-Up-A-Guy-In-Iraq-and-took-his-name? That may be a secret only your Allstate agent knows because he is blackmailing you, First Ham unveiled his real name and his marriage, something Bergwood seemed more than justifiably disturbed by (”I don’t want to be your weekend lover, Ham,”) then the two whistled past the graveyard of their relationship by cooking hamburgers off the smoking torso of Bobby Bowden (who says advertising doesn’t offer effective metaphors for understanding the world?) and then finally…the death knell, and the hopeless attention-whoring by Bergwood as a final step to salvage the once-perfect marriage they shared built on Ham’s lie of an identity.
It’s like my naked body doesn’t even get your attention anymore, Ham.
Coldly poking at the hotter, fresher phallic symbols on the grill while ignoring Bergwood? Someone’s laying on the symbolism a bit thick now, don’t you think? (more…)
You may remember these adorable and yet soccer-lethal scamps from Outcasts United, Warren St. John’s book about the struggles and triumphs of a refugee soccer team located here in Atlanta. Well, they don’t call it non-profit without reason, and the fundraising never ends. Please take a moment to go to the Fugees Causes page on Facebook, where they’re engaged in a fierce battle for a $10,000 prize matching the number of donations made before 2:00 today. They’re about 35 donors behind, so take a moment to check out Fugees Family’s website, watch some ridiculously tough children introduce themselves, and then give whatever you can via Causes on Facebook here.
The recommended donation is $25, but you can give $10 or $100 or whatever you can, because it’s flexible like that. Fearless leader kicked in $50, but that’s because he keeps track of receipts come tax time and also happens to care about this cause very, very much.
Ealey says he doesn’t agree with those who have said the suspension was not stiff enough. He said on Tuesday Spikes “shouldn’t, I think, get suspended at all.”
YOU GOTTA REINVALUTATE YOUR THANKIN’, SON! STAY ON MASSAGE! KEPT TO YUR TALKING PINTS!
Today’s schedule was completely botched up by a plane flight which had wireless, a term Delta seems to believe means “this flight does not have wireless.” As we are now in Vegas, programming should resume shortly. As an apology, I will put a thirty dollar bet on the upset bid of your choice, as determined by a majority or plurality of the votes. Regular programming to resume tomorrow.
We are joined on the EDSBS podcast this week by internet bard and Bob Stoops supporter Scipio Tex of Barking Carnival. Discussed: the defensive strategies of choice against Texas' offense, the enduring filthy nastiness of a Will Muschamp defense, and what variation of livestock rape he believes Bob Stoops is most likely to commit.
Peter will continue the discussion with Tex over at Burnt Orange Nation tomorrow night at his place, so do be the inquisitive sort and listen to whatever other high crimes he accuses the Oklahoma coaching staff of enjoying. Kevin Wilson always seemed like a wire fraud kind of guy to us.
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Orson Swindle and Stranko Montana are two men pushing thirty who should know better than to run a college football blog, but evidently don't. Both graduated from the University of Florida, and both agree that college football is far too important to be left to the professionals.
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