Perhaps you recall the Oklahoma church deacon and pastor who grabbed the testicles of a Texas fan and nearly ripped them from his body. Or maybe you forgot intentionally, since it involved one man RIPPING OPEN ANOTHER MAN’S FUCKING SCROTUM.

Well, he’s on trial. Fun details follow!

When a pair of bar patrons tried to separate the two men, Thomas said he heard a popping sound, looked down and saw a lot of blood.

Beckett’s attorney said that Thomas was the aggressor and that his client defended himself only after the younger, bigger man went up to the bar to confront him.

And now, for no reason whatsoever, a picture of a heart-healthy pomegranate!

Oh, no reason. Why do you ask?

We’re off to Vegas to cover the first weekend of the tournament for The Sporting News, and it promises to be Con Air awesome, minus the Nicholas Cage Skynrd locks. Follow our descent into madness–and really, the aim is to destroy this gig and never, ever let anyone come close to our rapid mad post rate ever again–one of several ways.

The Sporting Blog. Not only does it have our interview with Ric Flair, but it will have our posts on what Vegas during the first weekend of March Madness looks, feels, smells, and feels like, including the part where we wind up drinking $2000/bottle cognac from goatskins with the sheikhs of Dubai at a live man versus panther death match in the hills of Nevada.

Step One, this. Step Two, fire up laptop. Step three: MASSIVE PROFITS.

Flickr. I’ll be posting photos live from the fracas, as well, so keep up by following here.

Twitter. For those too ADDled to even get through this blog post, we’ll be posting on the EDSBS Twitter feed muy rapido all day and most of the night.

Your guest host will be Oops Pow Surprise from Black Heart, Gold Pants , a demented gent who promises to not only provide the Curious Index, but an installment of “Things Black and Gold People Like,” the latest in our series of fan profiles. We will usurp the Iowa jokes by saying the only one we know for sure: meth.

Godspeed. And wish the same to us. If we fail to come back from this mission, know that we went to bat country happily.

Bearded lunatic no more: we’re our own Mustache Wednesday today.

Happy Mustache Wednesday, motherfuckers!

By the pricking of my thumbs, something old, white, and overpaid this way comes. Who’s hanging out by the punchbowl with the ADs what brung them, and who’s promenading with the prettiest mid-major DCs in the barn? A brief review of the latest coaching squaredance:

–Johnson to Georgia Tech, confirmed by Navy to no one’s surprise this morning.

– Gundy, extended, until he’ll be able to screech about being forty-six to a room full of beat reporters.

–Miles, extended, with this giggle-worthy lede: ” … apparently ending speculation that he might leave for a job at Michigan.” Oh, dear.

–Michigan, snubbed by Schiano. What’s the coaching search equivalent of taking your cousin to the dance? “You don’t know my boyfriend, hegoestoanotherschool.”

–Arkansas can’t close it with Grobe. While cousin-mackery may be more accepted in their neck of the woods, it’s still no way to run a football program.

–You’re doing a heckuva job, Satan’s handmaiden. *muffled snickering*

We’re barely scratching the surface here, and we’ve got 48 hours before you’re back in the swarthy embrace of Swindle, Bean, and EDSBS Live. Let’s dish. If at least one of you isn’t staked out at a regional airport with a 2-way radio, I’ll be grievously disappointed.

Mistakes were made. Maybe you lost some cash, or the use of your left leg, or the privilege of your girlfriend’s vagina, but hey, that’s why they call it gambling. Now quit your crying and hobble over here; we’re getting right back in the game. As any good degenerate knows, it’s only when you’re down that you get a taste of the life. They also know that when you’re down you bet more money, on more games, in order to get well. It’s like makeup sex, only better, because it lasts all weekend and you can do it with other dudes. You have my personal guarantee that these picks are (probably) impregnable.

Oregon @ Arizona (+ 12)

I can feel the lack of trust. It’s OK. This is why I’m going to get you back on your feet right now and make this as simple as possible. Arizona is terrible and their coach is Mike Stoops. Oregon is good, really good. Their coach is… well forget that. Oregon isn’t looking past the Cats this year either, since last year Arizona handed them their only loss of the season at Autzen in a humiliating 37-10 drubbing (Oregon was a 2 TD favorite). That’s not going to happen again. Oregon’s playing for a shot at a National Championship and Dennis Dixon is playing for a shot at the Heisman. Arizona is playing for the chance to save Mike Stoops’ job. I’m sure they can’t wait to play for that asshole for another year. This is your classic prison rape (ow!) game. Arizona will put up a fight early, realize it’s useless, and by the second half, they’ll be following the Ducks around holding onto their pocket like a good little punk. Nothing makes a Friday at the office/prison yard/massage parlor better than knowing you’re already up, so wash the taste of failure out of your mouth and put $100 on Oregon.

West Virginia @ Cincinnati (+ 6.5)

The Mountaineers are coming to town and they’re bringing Steve Slaton, the nation’s #3 rushing attack, and a shitload of gasoline with ‘em. They’ve outscored the Bearcats 80-24 over the last 2 seasons and their dominance will continue here. Slaton has rolled for 277 yards and six TD’s over those 2 games. I’m sure you saw West Virginia’s terrifying extended fumbling drills last week in the second half against Louisville, but have no fear, it was only a test. Sit back, relax, watch WFV dominate Cincinnati and be thankful your couch is spared.

Missouri @ Kansas State (+7)
Yes, please. Here’s what you have to realize with Kansas State: Bill Snyder isn’t walking through that door. Michael Bishop isn’t walking through that door. Darren Sproles isn’t walking through that door. Josh Freeman is, and he’s fat. (more…)

It’s November. You have no excuse to be outside.

Pat White. Thursday night. Louisville’s defense. This could get ugly.

THURSDAY NIGHT LIGHTS
LOUISVILLE at WEST VIRGINIA (7:30 ET • ESPN)
The classic “Time Machine” game: West Virginia is still a frontrunner, and even Louisville is still technically alive in the Big East at 2-2 in the conference, but this barely consequential showdown bears no resemblance to the clash of unbeaten, BCS-bound titans it was last year, or that ESPN no doubt expected again. In lieu of far-reaching national ramifications, prepare thyself, viewer, for pointless hype of Pat White and Steve Slaton directed at certain individual awards, and at least two replays of a certain play that propelled a certain color announcer to said award more than two fucking decades ago, and some pro scout drooling over Brian Brohm moments before he’s intercepted for severely underthrowing an open man.
Watch for: End zone angles of West Virginia’s unearthly blocking, opening mile-wide lanes against overpursuing defenses since 2005. Also: Noel Devine, who will do something completely jaw-dropping in place of Slaton in the second half, because that what Noel Devine does.

Provincialism: Tennessee State at Samford (6:00 ET, ESPNU), TCU at BYU (9:00 ET, Versus)

TGIF, UNLESS YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN WATCH…

RUTGERS at ARMY (8:00 ET • ESPN2)
Our brave future fighting men have played one much stronger team tough at home each of the last two years  –Iowa State in 2005, Texas A&M last year – but still carries something like a twenty-eight year losing streak against winning teams. I didn’t look that up, but you’ll hear the real number at the first sign of Rutgers distress Friday, and then a few times again until RU lays down the hammer. But make no mistake: sooner or later, the hammer will be laid. Army is sloooooow. Watch for: The play Army safety Caleb Campbell hits Ray Rice so hard his helmet pops off, and Rice is revealed to actually be a fifty-story-tall monster made of flames the Black Knights must work together to slay before they can graduate to victory, aka an extended tour in Afghanistan.

(Yes, I know that was a Marines commercial, but they’re all shooting at the same targets. Anyway, the Army monster as personified by Ray Rice is way bigger).

Provincialism: Fordham at Columbia (7:00 ET, YES), Bowling Green at Eastern Michigan (7:30 ET, ESPNU)

SATURDAY – EARLY AFTERNOON: THERE IS A RACCOON. FLUSH HIM FROM THE WALL IN TIME FOR…

Main Course: Michigan at Wisconsin (Noon ET • ESPN)
P.J. Hill may not play, meaning the Wolverines may have to actually hit a moving target, a tall task to date for this particular version of the Michigan D. Then again, the Badgers ran for all of twelve yards without Hill at Ohio State last week and have allowed an average of 221 yards rushing to the last four non-MAC offenses they’ve faced, three of them in losses. So Mike Hart’s ankle does not necessarily need to be 100 percent. Watch for: Okay, like, this may not be a big deal for Midwesterners and other Northern types, and there’s all like global warming and whatever, right? But for those of us who grew up sweating in the desolate Southland well into the Fall months, even a glimpse of snow on the tube is an exotic, vicarious thrill. Football in a blizzard? We don’t want to be there, we just want to see it. The game’s already an instant classic. OMG hi-def snowstorm! The god who denies us this seasonal pleasure is a cruel numen indeed.

On the Other Channel…
WAKE FOREST at CLEMSON (Noon ET • ESPN2)
Impromptu Geico trivia: which one of these teams still has a chance to catch Boston College in the Atlantic division? Answer: both of them – the Deacons and Tigers are 4-2 apiece, though Wake is eliminated by tie-breaking procedures if B.C. beats Maryland Saturday. If it wins, Clemson can set up a winner-take-all showdown with the Eagles in Death Valley next week. Watch for: Half of Clemson’s team is knocked out of the game after appropriately-named defensive lineman Jock McKissic loses his balance on the way down the hill during the Tigers’ opening ceremony, triggering a chain reaction that claims the entire starting secondary and most members of the receiving corps. C.J. Spiller is spared, however, by alertly leaping over the entire mass of humanity, performing a double salto with a full twist on the first flip and landing on his feet. Spiller then runs for 274 yards and two touchdowns as part of a five-man offense, only to watch Wake steal the win in the closing seconds (if you don’t think Wake would let a five-man offense hang around for 59 minutes, you don’t know Wake. Last second is just how some of us roll).

Bacher: Works things out, but…does he know how to change?

INDIANA at NORTHWESTERN (Noon ET • ESPN Classic)
What, exactly, is classic about this third tier pillowfight, other than its mediocrity? Both teams are collectively 0-5 against opponents with a winning record; Indiana is already technically bowl-eligible at 6-4, and Northwestern is a win away at 5-5. If the Wildcats win and both teams end up 6-6 (they’ll be underdogs next week against Purdue and Illinois, respectively), both could fall short of the conference’s seventh-place spot in the Motor City Bowl. Hopefully good enough for the Motor City Bowl! Classic! Watch for: Northwestern quarterback C.J. Bacher, whose look is best described as “vaguely Asian,” whose greatest achievement is yet to be seen and who is not afraid to admit that his favorite song on his iPod is Boyz II Men’s “Water Runs Dry.”

TEXAS A&M at MISSOURI (12:30 ET • FSN)
The Tigers offer an interesting juxtaposition for A&M: you have the Aggie offense on one hand, and what the Aggie offense is trying to be on the other. Every positive attribute you hear ascribed to Stepehen McGee during the first few minutes of the broadcast, apply it to Chase Daniel, as well, only for real. You won’t have to do that for very long. Watch for: Dennis Franchione slowly removing his headset, handing off his clipboard, putting his hands in his pocket and walking off the field in the middle of the third quarter following a moment of epiphany. What’s the point, you know?

Provincialism: A rare treat for SEC fans and unfortunate transplants to said territory, who get – count ‘em – not one but TWO! exciting Lincoln Financial options at 12:30: Alabama at Mississippi State and Arkansas at Tennessee. Double the graininess! Double the Yellawood ads! Double the Daves! (You know they’re going to find three more guys named ‘Dave’ for the extra duty right?) Everyone else can pick those games up live via the generous feed on Yahoo! Sports.

Elsewhere: Penn State at Temple (Noon ET, ESPNU), Michigan State at Purude (Noon ET, Big Ten Network), Minnesota at Iowa (Noon ET, Big Ten Network), North Carolina at North Carolina State (Noon ET, Lincoln Financial), South Florida at Syracuse (Noon ET, Metro Atlantic Sports Network/ERTV), Amherst at Williams (Noon ET, Northeast Sports Network), New Hampshire at Massachusetts (Noon ET, SNY…for two other states’ flagship schools?), Villanova at Towson State (Noon ET, CSNA), Kansas State at Nebraska (12:30, Versus), Lafayette at Holy Cross (1:00 ET, CSTV), Yale at Princeton (1:00 ET, YES)

LATE AFTERNOON: KEEP AN EYE ON THE COWS, MA

Main Course: AUBURN at GEORGIA (3:30 ET • CBS)
You may not realize it, but this is the oldest rivalry in the South, forging valiantly into a second century of tradition that would equally horrify both sides of the game’s segregationist founders. It’s one thing to let muscular negroes run the same ball as the white players, but foot-ball without the ceremonial mid-drive heifer rape? The Colonel won’t stand for it! Watch For: Knowshon Moreno, conquistador of homely co-eds campus-wide and the rest of the SEC’s worst nightmare for the next three-plus years.

On the Other Channel…
Your Mouse-Eared ESPN on ABC Overlords Bestow Upon an Unworthy and Grateful Public…
ILLINOIS at OHIO STATE / FLORIDA STATE at VIRGINIA TECH / TEXAS TECH at TEXAS / ARIZONA STATE at UCLA (3:30 ET • ABC/ESPN)

Look at this map and tell me: how did they decide on those precise boundaries in Idaho, Montana and Wyoming for who would get Ohio State-Illinois and who would get UCLA-Arizona State? “Remember, boys, Southeast Idaho, they love ‘em some Big Ten. They can’t get enough. But Montana? They better get the game in L.A. or there’ll be hell to pay, believe you me. And whatever you, do, don’t even think about trying to put on Ohio State in that one little diamond-shaped sliver in Western Wyoming. We all remember the Laramie Riots of ‘92. Yep, live and learn, boys. Live and learn.”
Watch For: The comical contrast of Jim Tressel’s icy resolve and Coach [Redacted]’s goofy pep, ending in a long closeup of one of them fighting back tears as the clock winds down on an afternoon of unambiguous punishment in the fourth quarter. I won’t tell you which one.

AIR FORCE at NOTRE DAME (2:30 ET • NBC)
The Irish are a slight (+2.5) underdog at home, to a physically overmatched service academy that runs the triple option, which makes complete sense to anyone who saw last week’s game. And Jimmy Clausen is back in the saddle for the game that could officially make these Irish the losingest team in school history? What kind of lottery did the rest of the country win? Watch For: Schadenfreude doesn’t die. It multiplies.

Provincialism: Colorado State at New Mexico (1:00 MT, Mtn.), Boise State at Utah State (1:00 MT, KJZZ/KTVB), Connecticut at Cincinnati (3:30 ET, ESPNU), Wyoming at Utah (1:30 MT, CSTV), Furman at Georgia Southern (3:30 ET, SportsSouth), Kent State at Northern Illinois (3:00 CT, Cox Sports-Chicago), New Mexico State at San Jose State (1:00 PT, Comcast/Aggie Vision), East Carolina at Marshall (4:30 ET, MASN, WITN)

HERE COMES THE NIGHT

Main course: Your Mouse-Eared ESPN on ABC Overlords Bestow Upon an Unworthy and Grateful Public…
BOSTON COLLEGE at MARYLAND / KANSAS at OKLAHOMA STATE / USC at CALIFORNIA (8:00 ET • ABC/ESPN)
Oh, read it and weep, folks:

It’s the Kansas-Oklahoma State game you’ve always dreamed of, consumer. No, no – thank us later. Watch For: Visually seeing the final molecules of air go out of Cal’s dream season. Jeff Tedford will try sustaining its last vestiges by holding his breath and puffing out his cheeks, until Pete Carroll claps his hands on either side of Tedford’s face to force out the rest.

On the Other Channel…
FLORIDA at SOUTH CAROLINA (7:45 ET • ESPN)
The Gamecocks have strategically timed their annual offensive revival to coincide with a defensive collapse of potentially staggering proportions, just in time for Tim Tebow, Percy Harvin, Gators brittle young secondary and your staggering windfall on the ‘over.’ Watch For: The tragic destruction of the “Cockaboose Railroad” when the lead cockaboose strikes an absentminded Tebow crossing the tracks prior to the game.

Can nothing stop Tebow’s trail of rail destruction?!

VIRGINIA at MIAMI (7:15 ET • ESPN2)
What’s worse: that the Cavs are in first place in the ACC Coastal with the nation’s 104th-ranked offense, or that Miami still has a chance to catch them with a win? Welcome to the new ACC, baby. Watch For: There is no acceptable reason to watch any game in the ACC, especially one featuring one offense quarterbacked by Kirby “1 of 14” Freeman and another coached by Al Groh. Holly helpfully suggested the following themes:

Sundresses versus hot pants.
Juleps versus 40s.
Maypoles vs. Luther Campbell.
Popped collars versus popped caps.

I don’t think they wear sundresses in Virginia, but whatever a ‘Maypole’ is, with apologies to Luther, I’m there.

FRESNO STATE at HAWAII (11:00 ET • ESPN2)
It’s a midnight tradition: Random West Coast game! Random West Coast game! Watch For: If you can’t drunkenly watch Colt Brennan hang 450 yards on a team you will not be able to identify in the morning before passing out, you are not American.

Provincialism: Stanford at Washington State (3:30 PT, Fox Spors Northwest/Bay Area/Pacific), Baylor at Oklahoma (5:30 CT, FSN), Central Florida at UAB (6:30 CT, CSTV), Washington at Oregon State (7:15 PT, FSN), San Diego State at UNLV (9:00 MT, CSTV)

It’s a smallish game between two no-name teams at some undefined competitive level of high school football. Yet the simple, Windows Movie Maker-crafted message of the video should call shake traumatic memories loose from your brain with amazing effciency of a horrid, pants-wetting terror felt when watching the nightmare unfold in front of your eyes: quarterback flushed, running, pursued by an unstoppable mob of faceless baby-skewerers, looking to throw, and then…

NO NO NO NO NO NO. Sometimes, when the pass is bad enough, we can actually yell in that low-pitch slo-mo voice you hear at the end of the video. Doug Johnson, you gave us that talent, and for that, we thank you. It’s handy for scaring the shit out of drive-through clerks late at night, or for phoning in those pesky but necessary ransom demands over an untapped public phone.

Hey you! You there with your hand on your spunk sprinkler! Pay some goddamn attention, because this is Jim Harbaugh talking right at you. I know about three things in life: kicking ass, getting ass, and solid public health practices. And since I’m sharing no secrets on passions one and two, I’m gonna have to share my talent in the third with you–my passion for public health education, fucknuts.

What’s my message? Wash your fucking hands. That’s my whole campaign here: wash your filthy, ass-scratching hands. We all know that filthy bastards like you do all kinds of things which are, in the parlance of public health officials, “completely dogass nasty.” Frankly, I and the rest of the medico-scientific community are amazed you have the strength to stand a urinal, have lived to whatever wretched age you currently are, don’t have a raging worm infestation. Which you might.

I also know two definite things about you. One, you probably don’t wash your legs. Men just don’t do that. It’s a long way down there, and what the hell do your legs do anyway that require any real kind of attention, anyway? Just let the runoff from your torso and ass do all the work, right?

Wrong! Dirty legs are as dangerous as a lit flamethrower in the hands of an angry chimpanzee. Yours are filthy, and I know it. Go ahead, squint at the fine print in the in poster. It reads “P.S. Your legs stink of disease! Love, Captain Comeback.” Because they do–I can smell them all the way up here, even beneath this plastic display shield.

The other thing I know about you? You scratch your ass with that hand. Which one? Oh, it really doesn’t matter now, does it, sailor? Because when the sharp, hellborne pain of a sudden ass itch strikes, you send the professionals on either side: the index finger. And sure, sometimes you just shift in your seat and hope friction takes care of it. But most of the time you dig right in, hoping the double layer of trouser and underpant insulates you like some kind of magical lightweight wool/poly germ armor, right?

Let me ask you this–the next time a doctor’s ready to cut open a family member of yours, how about if they just wear mittens made from an old pair of Dockers? Because that’s what you’re doing, jerkoff: operating in a hostile environment without the right protection. I won’t even talk about the times you actually creep the hand down the asscrack, between the cheeks, and into the musty, toxic tortellini of the asshole itself for a 360 degree scouring of your filthy tailpipe.

What’s left under your fingernails after doing that could have you classifed as a weapon of mass destruction, piggy. The Russian bioweapons program in the 1960s started with less raw material than that.

There’s a name for people like you: vectors. Remember the asshole in The Stand who drives out of the army base in the beginning and infects the whole planet with the deathflu? That’s you, fucker, unless you take your hands right now and wash them for a solid twenty count in hot water with soap and friction. That’s what we’re gonna need to see from you right now. Contagion never sleeps, and neither does Jim Harbaugh. Now go wash your fucking hands and enjoy the game. And after that, forget the dog: go get yourself dewormed before the wife finds you dragging your asshole across the carpet for relief, you filthy, filthy bastard.

Oh, and purchase Stanford season tickets immediately! We bow to no man or germ!

(Photo credit: Dave H.)

Losing to Syracuse is painful. When you do it as preseason top 10, possible Big East champion, it’s…it’s nauseating to anyone watching it happen, really, because Syracuse reeks. Stinks. Like rotting antelope carcass stuffed with pigeonshit thrown into a vat of five spice powder and then deep fried in a vat of oil skimmed off Drew Rosenhaus’ head and served with a side of assfries. We don’t even know what assfries are, but if they existed, they would be the proper side dish for Syracuse football.

The only proper reaction to the death of Louisville’s dreams is nausea. Apparently, this Swedish television personality was watching the third quarter off camera.

BORT BORT BARF!!! For a more complete verbal picture of how bad the end of the game was between these two armless men trying to headbutt each other to death, consult with the 5.0 Guy, a sick bastard who was left dry-heaving by the inept finale to the game. Keep in mind: the word vomit is used copiously here, and predates said Swedish rebooting footage. (more…)

(He comes to in dark room. Turns on the light. The clock reads 4:45 a.m. It’s Sunday, September 16th, 2007.)

Jesus, my mouth tastes terrible. Just awful. Like someone shaved a rat on it. You’d think a grown man would know better than to combine red wine, dollar jello shots, and jager bombs. But this grown man didn’t. Need…water. Need…

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

(A Michigan t-shirt sits on the floor. A pack of condoms sits on the nightstand. It has been opened.)

Oh, god. Oh, please, Lord. Not again. Not again. I thought this was the bottom. I know it’s been a bad two weeks. I know I’m bad and need help, serious, serious help. If you’re there, say I don’t have to look. Please say this didn’t happen.

(A groan comes from a bulky body on the bed next to him. The sheets stink of sin and the faint whiff of Bechamel sauce.)

Okay. Okay. It happened again. FUCK! Wait–I can accept that. Reality check. Courage. Like a Victor would.

I’m gonna look. One quick turn to the right and all. And you want to know the truth, right? It’s better to know the truth, right? Because you’ll feel better. Because you’ll feel better. And it can’t get worse than Appalachian State. It just…can’t.

One…two…three… (more…)

Lloyd sits in his garage, alone. A single light bulb burns above him. The floor is swept clean; he sits on a lawn chair in the dark. A bottle of scotch sits next to him; two buckets in front of him.

[SQUEEEEEEEE!!!! (Snap!) ]

Lloyd Carr: (sip.)

Laurie Carr: (from somewhere in the house.) Honey? You coming in for dinner?

Lloyd Carr: Hrrrmph. (more…)

Jane: Wow, Ted, there’s so much more to Alabama than I suspected.

Thad: I know. Our friends in Boston have no idea what they’re missing. Can you believe what we get for $2500 a month down here? And no rats, easy winters, and Red Sox games on pay-per-view.

Jane: It’s better than I could have imagined. They even have NPR!

Terry “Sexface” Gross

Thad: I know. I love Terry Gross.

Jane: Me, too. She’s so good.

Thad: She’s great.

Jane: She’s wonderful.

Thad: I would totally fuck her in the face.

Jane: Me, too!

Thad. (Pauses.) …and now we’re at our first southern football game!

Jane: I know! So glad we decided to do this instead of going to that abandoned cabin in the woods everyone says is cursed.

Thad: Or to that seemingly idyllic beach in Central America where six tourists disappeared.

Jane: Or investigated that glowing green light in the field next door to our house.

Thad: Oh, we’ll check that out later, honey.

Jane: Oh boy!

Thad: Honey, is that the stadium?

Jane: Yes! How colorful!

Thad: (with dread) Oh, god. What is that?

Jane: AIIIIIIIGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

(more…)

A quick run through the notebook prior to EDSBS LIVE!!!’s review show tonight.

The patient in blue is unresponsive and not breathing. Put a stethoscope to his chest, and you will hear…meowing? Yes, meowing.

College football’s Dien Bien Phu: it’s already happened.

Take it as a given that no one–Michigan fans, App State fans, and college football fans as a whole–properly understands the magnitude of the event that occurred in Ann Arbor yesterday. And phenomenologically speaking, “event” is the correct word: something exploded, flames, hot air, and bright light followed, and no one was quite sure what happened even after looking right at the damn thing. It’s football’s Tunguska Event. It’s the French losing Dien Bien Phu to the Vietnamese. It’s like finding a sex tape starring Rosario Dawson and Seth Rogen where she’s left winded and and destroyed on the mattress. Buster Douglas watched the game yesterday with approving nods, in between shoving entire cheeseburgers into his mouth.

In more prosaic terms, Michigan’s tackles didn’t protect Henne, All-American Jake Long included. App State’s ends wheeled around them with ease throughout the game. Henne didn’t need the additional pressure, since he seemed scattershot from the beginning, spraying awkward passes around like a freshly divorced 38 year old at a singles’ bar. Hennebriation was the rule of the day as he consistently over/underthrew receivers, pulled down passes in fidgety indecision, and failed to convert critical passes when Michigan desperately needed them.

Other longstanding Michigan bugaboos emerged, too: an inability to cope with the spread offense, an arrogance in telegraphing plays by formation and motion, and the sneaking suspicion from watching that Michigan is locked in 1983’s finest strategic nostrums and not budging, digging in the heels of their Pumas while rocking an REO Speedwagon t-shirt you’d kill to wear to the club on Saturday night.

These patients appear to have no problems, and are busy using syringes to shoot whiskey at each other, doctor. The State of Georgia flourished on the gridiron Saturday. Tech beats Notre Dame, and then UGA takes the Greatest Offense On Earth and reduces them to 14 points and squabbling on the sidelines during the game. We didn’t see minute one of this game, but can say that Georgia looked far more impressive against a ballyhooed Okie State team than our own mad #6 pick South Carolina did against the Ragin’ Cajuns of University of Louisiana-Lafayette, who only lost to the Gamecocks 28-14. Spurrier called the ‘Cocks “just a bunch of average stiffs” after the game, where the Cajuns limited opportunities for SC by running the daylights out of the ball with quarterback Michael “It’s not delivery, it’s” Desourneaux.

This patient has one troubling sign, sir. Specialists are required. Only two salient points emerged from Florida’s game with the Western Kentucky Hilltoppers.

1. Tim Tebow has a very, very large arm. Actually, he has two of them. One, he throws footballs a very long way with; the other administers justice to the wicked of the greater North Florida metropolitan area 24 hours a day, and sometimes takes special missions at the behest of the President of the United States.

2. Kyle Jackson is still the last man on the tackle pile and still takes bad angles on tackles. Against WKU, this is troubling. Against Tennessee, this is hemorrhaging.

This patient has multiple personality disorder; request sedation immediately. Notre Dame trotted out a Big Lots discount version of the spread option for a quarter and a half with Demetrius Jones against a Georgia Tech defense eventually happy with sacking ND’s qbs nine times on the game and limiting the Irish to three points. Evan Sharpley came in to stop the bleeding, but the incineration of Jimmy Clausen’s redshirt points to further schizophrenia for Notre Dame, who is not NOT rebuilding. No, not at all.

This patient has the dreadlocks of power, sir… Auburn snoozed through its opening matchup with K-State before doing what Auburn teams usually do: pulling out magical plays from deep in their ass, something they have a knack for doing on the defensive side of the ball. This year’s wearer of the magical defensive end braids of power remains Quentin Groves, who inherited them from Stanley McClover. After Brandon Cox woke up and threw a fourth quarter td to put Auburn up 16-13, Groves blew past two KSU blockers who laid nary a glove on him as he hit 398 pound quarterback Josh Freeman, causing him to fumble, weep, and renounce any false gods he might have been worshipping at the time. The fumble went for a td, and thus three quarters of solid work by K-State (and three somnambulent ones for Auburn) will go down in the books as a 23-13 win.

And in the auspicious debuts department… Tom O’Brien’s NC State team displays that flashy T.O.B. charisma by dropping a 25-23 matchup at home to UCF, who went up 25-3 in the first half before nearly frittering away the lead and the upset. O’Leary will later claim the win was a 65-3 blowout on his resume. Don’t trifle with the Golden Flashes, son: Iowa State drops their opener 23-14 against Kent State. Gene Chizik, welcome to Hell.

Not all n00bs fumbled day one: Randy Shannon had the ‘Canes looking muscular, if not offensively viable quite yet, against a decrepit Marshall team (every time we looked over, Marshall’s qb was being bent in half by some brute in orange. Good signs for Miami.) And Mark Dantonio, seeking a “win of respect”, hitched Michigan State to the enormous ass of the mighty Jehuu Caulcrick for a 55-18 win against UAB, who it must be mentioned was being coached in the first game of the Neal Calloway era, who spoils our “trend of two” by being a rookie coach getting shellacked in his first game.

Jake Locker is the new pirates, who are the new Chuck Norris. Syracuse continues to sink into the mire under Greg Robinson, but even with the entire team giving up on themselves in the second half, hybrid Tebow/Young type Jake Locker looked impressive in Washington’s 42-12 victory in the humorously unairconditioned Carrier Dome.

Screw Ohio State and Michigan. The Mountaineers should have gotten the title shot against Florida last season.

Rece Davis is cozying up with his invisible sun right now, looking like something that the cat brought in, trapped at gunpoint for what will be (as of posting) hour 20 of the ESPN 25 hour marathon preview of college football.

While we appreciate the WWL’s enthusiasm for the great game of college football, Rece Davis doesn’t deserve this. Even as Norby Williamson held Davis’ infant son off camera over a pit of live piranhas, Davis made this quip last night around 9:15 p.m.

Mark May: June Jones has coached at the highest levels of football.

Davis: He’s coached in the SEC?

See? It’s that kind of blatant cheekery, along with Davis’ barely concealed glee for the game, that makes Rece awesome. And now they’ve had him at bazooka point for the better part of an entire day, making him watch some things you were better off missing at 3:30 in the morning. Like what, you say?

1:45 a.m. EST Mark May drops pants and does the whirlybird in front of the camera while singing “The Pitt Victory Song.” Lou Holtz giggles, then pronounces the exercise as “disguthting.”

2:27 a.m. Bruce Feldman of ESPN Magazine benches 325 sixteen times in a row. The feat’s made more impressive by the 325 pounds being a sleeping Chris Berman stuffed to the gills with buffalo wings and Ovaltine he ate straight from the can in the ESPN cafeteria.

4:42 a.m. Davis weeps uncontrollably at the mention of Bear Bryant’s name. Can only be coaxed back on air by May speaking to Davis as the dead Alabama coach addressing him from heaven through his earpiece.

7:38 a.m. May is now doing entire show from offstage, talking to Davis as Bear Bryant from the production room. Occasionally gets Davis to drop and give him twenty during commercial breaks and run through pieces of scenery in “blocking drills.”

1:14 p.m. Davis conducts entire interview with Greg Schiano as Beaker from the Muppets. Questions included “MEE MEE MEEEE MEEE MEE, MEE ME MEE MEEE?” “Coach Bryant” insists through the earpiece that he get his ass in the game, to which Davis loudly says “Yassir!” to on air to no one in particular.

As of our last check, he looked to be in decent shape–a bit drawn, yes, but seemingly kept in line by “Coach Bryant.” No man deserves this, though. We implore ESPN to let Davis’ children out of the Death Machine and give the man some rest. With four months of football left, he’s gonna need “Coach Bryant” in his ear all year at this rate.