If you’re looking for fun this weekend, this would be as good a time as any to go to Ole Miss, since the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan plans on showing up to the game to protest the removal of “From Dixie With Love” from the Rebels’ pregame.

“We aren’t coming there to cause problems or cause trouble,” Tate said. “Trouble has already been caused by a handful at Ole Miss, including the black student body president, who wants to shape Ole Miss into yet another liberal sodomite college.”

Now, take issue with the liberal portion of the description, but a college without sodomy is no college at all. Our own college experience was greatly enriched by hanging out with liberal black sodomites, since they taught us the joys of so many of the good things in life: expensive alcohol, fine clothing, half-price ecstasy cut with baking soda and methamphetamines, late night infomercial-watching, dancing with your hands over your head, and learning how to be white around black people without being the white-guy-trying-to-be-black. They’re also giving and tender lovers WHAAAA—

Anyway, if the Klan is going to show, they can’t half-step. We like our coffee hot, our homosexuals FLAMING, and our racists to be cartoonishly so. Sparkly whites, boys, and that includes the hem, which should be properly tailored so as not to drag on the ground. Foghorn Leghorn accents, please, and be quick with the festive Klan dancing.

Got that? Did you count up all the things that looked wrong? Good, now check the answer key after the jump and let’s see how you did:

1. It’s all about Sandra Bullock. Not that the woman Bullock plays, Leigh Anne Tuohy, wasn’t an integral part of the story Lewis told in his book; she worked as hard as, if not harder than, anyone to lift Michael Oher up out of poverty. But she wasn’t the main character in the book; she looks like she’s going to be the main character in the movie. And that probably means that . . .

2. We’ve got another white-woman-saves-poor-aimless-black-people story on our hands. You could, if you were so inclined, condense The Blind Side down to that very cursory description, and to some extent film adaptations can only ever be stripped-down, USA Today versions of the books on which they’re based, but still, The Blind Side was so much deeper and more complex than that. We could’ve gotten at least an attempt at translating that complexity to the screen, but instead it looks like what we’re going to get is a lot more along the lines of Sandra Bullock being, in the words of Jack Donaghy, “Michelle Pfeiffer to your angry black kid who learns that poetry is just another way to rap.”

3. The “You threaten my son, you threaten me” scene. Is my memory of the book completely faulty, or did that never actually happen? Someone telling Mike Oher to “sleep with one eye open”? What are your cheap gangsta theatrics doing in my peanut butter?

4. The use of The Fray’s “How to Save a Life” in the first part of the trailer. Of the grown men I’ve known who have ever expressed any affinity for that song (or The Fray in general), all of them fell into at least one of two categories: a) Guys who had at least circumstantial evidence against their heterosexuality and b) guys who played it on their guitars so they’d look brooding and sensitive enough to pull in chicks. I’ve kind of gotten off topic here, but the point is The Fray has no place in any film that purports to be about sports.

Bright spots? Well, Quinton Aaron looks suitably mountain-sized to pass as Michael Oher (no mean feat), and Sandra Bullock is smokin’ hot as a blonde. And there’s always the cameos by Saban and Orgeron to look forward to. (Window treatments FTW!) Otherwise, it looks suspiciously like we’ve got some heavy football movie/chick flick miscegenation going on here, and the outlook, as the Magic 8-Ball might say, is not good. We’ll have to save the final verdict for November 20, of course, but this grand jury is still prepared to at least hand down an indictment.

Cross-posted at Hey Jenny Slater.

People do it all the time. For instance, were you aware that Tony Dungy is both the Super Bowl-winning coach of the Indianapolis Colts, and is black, too? Another example: Mike Tomlin, who despite sporting a chinstrap beard has proven himself as a capable head man at Pittsburgh. Or consider if you will the success of Lovie Smith, who led the Bears to the Super Bowl and had a superb career prior to Chicago as the defensive coordinator of the Tampa Bay Bucs.

Better still, consider that the NFL has proven its complete Colbertian colorblindedness by allowing black coaches to become what was only once a career path allowed for white coaches: the hopeless mediocre retread on the verge of exploding at any second.

Dennis Green is just a porky Norv Turner with extra melanin now, a name recognizable enough to fill a coaching position when you need someone who has both done the job before and knows how to clean out an office without too much fuss. If rewarding someone prior to achievement isn’t the ultimate demonstration of cronyism triumphing over race, then you have stumped us on the question of a better definition of the concept.

College has done an abominable job developing black coaches from the bottom to the top, which is the main reason for their ranks being so thin at the top. We like blaming ADs as much as anyone, but the racism begins with the appointment of graduate assistants and stems out from there. What drives that process is beyond the scope of this post, though we think the paltry salaries at the entry level might have something to do with it.

If you’d like a quality black coach at the college level, here’s who you should hire, because most of them are years overdue for a shot at either their first gig, or something more lucrative than their current job.

Turner Gill, Buffalo HC. Is taking Buffalo to a bowl game. Read that again. Now, hire him and pay him.

Charlie Strong, Florida DC. We’re voluntarily shooting ourselves in the foot by suggesting he become a head coach somewhere else, but Strong’s been at the top of his profession as a defensive coordinator for almost a decade now and has had zero serious offers to be a head coach. Hire him. It’ll hurt us, but hire him. You can even pay him not to button the top button of his golf shirts all the time, a habit which may be the only excuse besides outright racism to explain no one offering him a job yet.

Calvin Magee, Michigan OC. Didn’t merely manage the West Virginia offense under Rich Rodriguez, but built a beautiful gameplan to upset Oklahoma last year in an effective audition for bigger and better things. Has seen the program-building process from the inside-out under Jim Leavitt at USF, where he was an original staff member. Would like it if you just came out and told him you were racist and didn’t want to hire him because of the color of his skin, since you wouldn’t be the first to do that.

Sylvester Croom, former head coach at Mississippi State. As long as he doesn’t bring Woody McCorvey with him, he’s a fine coach who occasionally worked miracles at Mississippi State in the long, bombed-out aftermath of the Jackie Sherrill era. Also: he’s a retread, so hiring him would help further elevate black coaches at the college level to the status of their white colleagues. (Ty Willingham’s just out there alone, people. He can’t be the only one.)

And hell, while you’re at it take a flyer on Trooper Taylor for future head coachdom. He’ll have worked with Fulmer and Mike Gundy, can call a spread offense, and was the sole source of fresh life on the Tennessee staff in the 2000s as a promiscuous recruiter and fiery walking motivational poster-type guy.

(P.S. If you’re hiring a coach, it’s even more likely you’ll have to do this–or at least consider doing it–now that Brian Kelly’s staying put at Cincinnati. )

It used to be that when minority candidates could be hired the old-fashioned way: when everyone else had said no to the job, either because of the meager salary offered (UCLA) or the impossible task facing whomever was foolish enough to stick their face into the bear trap of the job (Miss State, for instance.) The minority interview did happen from time to time, but was usually done in a manner of blatant tokenism. (In other words, they called Charlie Strong, and he told them he was tired of this shit, and that was that.)

Now, thanks to a penalty-less edict from the Division I-A Athletic Directors’ Association, the Rooney Rule has come to college football. The bad news: now, schools will by community agreement and without enforceable penalty require the substantial interview of at least one minority candidate for each position on staff.

A written policy stipulating that any division I-A football program with a head coaching vacancy will interview at least one minority candidate was sent just more than three weeks ago to athletic directors at the 120 schools.

Luckily, ADs who crave the retread white guy of their choice have a loophole: minority is a very wide term, and can describe any number of types of people ADs may include in their consideration. For example, have you, the racist AD, considered interviewing…

Ginger kids. NC State hired a redhead in Tom O’ Brien, sure, but did they go the extra step you’ll go to in hiring the first real ginger kid to hold a head coaching job? Admittedly, you can’t come from a Sun Belt school, since the sun is the natural enemy of ginger kids everywhere. But a nice Northeastern or program in the Pacific Northwest will do nicely.

Lefties. You know they’re evil, but still: a minority desperately in need of work. Plus: they really don’t have a shorter life expectancy, so in case it works out you don’t have to worry about them kicking off early.

The Eskimo. Okay, so we’re not sure if any of them are actually coaching. But they’re a minority, and you could interview one. The conversation could go something like this:

AD: Tell me a few of your strengths as a leader and administrator.

Eskimo: Kah-bloon-ah nowk? (Where is there a white man?)

AD: Um, and…tell me about your ability to work with alumni a bit.

Eskimo: Comma-tee-nick eye-shook-too! (Bring a dog sled!)

AD: I see…well, I think that about does it for our time here together today.

Eskimo: Tah-koo! Cook-e-oo pee-yuma-voong-ah! Kah-mig-ga cow-shook-toot! (Look! I need a gun! My boots are wet!)

See? The possibilities are endless, tacitly racist ADs of the world. Get to it!