This would be the year for Notre Dame to do it.

Pete Carroll knows it.

USC knows it.

Notre Dame knows it.

A lighting strike offense with Golden Tate and Jimmy Clausen. A blitzing, aggressive Notre Dame.

Defense.

Everything seems ready to fall into place. The tension has to be unbearable at USC.

Right?

Or maybe.

They’re.

Sliding.

On.

Their.

Bellies.

That column will be $1,450 please, mailable to Generic, One Line Columnist, USA please.

USC decides to seize opportunity to work in a few young guys, taste a little adversity, and come out better people for the experience by allowing starting center Kristofer O’Dowd to get injured with a dislocated patella, thus spawning a learning and growth experience for the entire team, all of which will be resolved with a moving and very specifically worded motivational song.

O’Dowd will return to score a crucial touchdown on a tackle-eligible play, no doubt, and ride off on the shoulders of his teammates as he points to his father in the stands, who will finally be able to express the stifled love he felt for his son all these years as result of the episode. And cue your jealousy vomit: in the meantime, the Trojans will just have to muddle through with senior Alex Parsons, who made USC’s team despite starting the last ten games of the season at right guard in 2008, and overcame the crippling curse of being a Super Prep All-American to make the team. Somehow they’ll survive the opener against San Jose State. Somehow.

Email one, 6:49 p.m. EDT: Hey, yo, I think you should put this video on your blog. It’s good.

Email two 7:38 p.m. EDT, from totally different guy: I am so embarrassed by this video as a USC alum.

Conflicting emails within a 49 minute span regarding the quality of an internet tribute video? Sold! ROLL THAT BITCHMAKER, STEVIE!!!

As someone who’s managed to do it, sounding bad with autotune is quite an accomplishment. Feel free to break your shoulders with repeated, hyperextended pats on the back for that feat. On the positive side, the song does contains the lyric “Stop Gang Violence In LA,” which truly does week of winforevertude.

The offices of the USC Athletic Department.

USC: Athletic Department, this is Tim speaking.

NCAA Investigator Blackburn: Yes, I’ve been trying to reach the USC Athletic Department for a year now.

Tim: Yes, I’m sorry. Let me transfer you.

Pete Carroll, leaning out of his office excitedly: Ready?

Tim: [nods quickly.] Transferring, hold please.

Pete: Hello?

NCAA Investigator Blackburn: Yes. Is this Coach Carroll?

Pete: You betcha. How you doing, Inspector Blackburn?

NCAA: Yes, I’m trying to reach Athletic Director Mike Garrett, actually.

Pete: Oh, sure. I’ll transfer you. Sorry about that! (Giggles, presses a few buttons.) (more…)

Pete Carroll is training with Navy SEALS right now. Pete is probably halfway into his first day of Hell Week right now, keeping warm when they make him sit in the cold surf by telepathically summoning friendly sea lions to his side. He plans on finishing the seven day torture in three days, all the while texting five star recruits with a tiny blackberry ensconced in his right molar. It won’t be as effective as typing with both hands, but sometimes you hate to compromise in order to WIN FOREVER. He can only text fifty words a minute with his tongue, and if you don’t believe him just ask Mrs. Carroll.

(HT: Maize ‘n Brew Dave.)

You may win forever, but even Pete Carroll’s tires must suffer defeat every now and then.

They ran over a nail called “Stanford.” My that sounds like an indie rock album title. And we fell into a hole called Oregon State. We’d like nothing better than a Fat Tire to spice up our day, or preferably eight of them consumed over four hours of video game play, a possible necessity after getting warm and fuzzies seeing all the MTSU logos in Franklin this weekend. Coach Bovo Pustule did so much with that NCAA 2003 Dynasty: five national titles in a row, four Heismans, and all done by on Heisman level, no less. Why he ever walked away from such success, we’ll never know.

Maybe he was tired, or maybe his wife threatened to divorce him if he didn’t come to bed, or maybe he just got a copy of Splinter Cell and forgot about the red-mulleted wizard of Murfreesboro and his magnificent team. Whenever we get the preseason guide to Florida football done and put to bed, we’ll live the dream and get back to
what’s really important in life: kicking the shit out of Sun Belt teams by fifty points week in and week out before a three point victory over Ohio State in the national title game.

Hey, everyone. Coach Compete here. That’s Pete Carroll, in case you didn’t know. Of the USC Trojans. Sorry I’m late on posting, but I just did four hundred pushups for a local charity that helps crippled chihuahuas quit the gang lifestyle and have more productive lifestyles. I had to dictate a business book while doing it, so it took longer than it normally would. Excuse me.

[picks up phone] No, that’s fine Barry. They’re not serious. Send and envoy, double down on the anti-nuke incentives, and keep up the drone attacks on the borders. If Sy Hersh gets a hold of it, I’ll kick him in the balls for you with some of my South L.A. boys, okay? Sweet. Smack Michelle on the ass for me. Yes, twice just to get all of that sweet hamhock. Laters. [/hangs up]

I’ve got a new kids website I’d like to tell you about. It’s called CampPete.com, and it contains loads of goodies to help kids learn about football, sportsmanship, and the valuable lessons of sportsmanship. It also has a place where your six year old can upload their 40 times, hang clean numbers, and their contact information for Coach Pete to call them personally!

Oh, look, former Mexican Vice President Vicente Fox! Que pasa, Presidente? (more…)

Nice legs, stretch. Pete Carroll in high school with shorts shorter than you’d probably like to see on a man, courtesy of the LA Times. In the same article, Carroll claims that he no longer exists due to having spent so much time with his high school football coach, with the prolonged exposure actually causing Pete TO BECOME AN AVATAR OF BOB TROPPMANN.

“I worked so closely with coach Troppmann for so many years, I am him.”

So his greatest trick may have been to convince the world he existed when he was really someone else all along. The depths of this man…you shall never reach their inky bottom.