For the especially addled and time-blessed, click here for full roundup of tons of spring practice updates, including the inevitable “maybe Joe Paterno will win more than five games this year” post for Nittany Lions fans.

Fox posts a reheated version of their SEC preview here, with a few tweaks and a few errors (Demetris Summers, for example, will likely not be the starter for SC this fall, given the whole “pot-smoking and getting-kicked-off-the-team thing.”)We’re still in the throes of a man-crush on Pete Fiutak, though, so we’ll forgive them for anything so long as they keep posting more shit than any other site on the web.

Jerry Glanville, the mighty midget of the Grits Blitz, has withdrawn his candidacy for the D-II coaching gig he was considering. South Dakotans breathe a sigh of relief, bring the Tauntauns in for the night, and wonder if Luke and Han will survive the night out there…

Please, please let this be true.

Beavers love gay rams. Oh, it feels so good to type that…

Auburn Tigers: crazy about Cox. (Give us a chance to make a penis joke, and we will take it.) Prentice Gautt dies at the age of 67. Spurrier wants fun back at SC, mentions that fun does not usually require crowbar, gloves, and bail money. Assembled players stunned. Chan Gailey back at practice two days after heart attack. Bobby Bowden uses word “daggum” in interview for forty zillionth time, promises more sluggish offense, galling nepotism, and bad haberdashery from the Seminoles this year. Texas lawmaker seeks end to “sexual cheerleading.” Strangely, Edwards is a Democrat, who we thought were all about sexual cheerleading. Urban Meyer unhappy with second day of practice, forces team to pit fight with pack of wolves to win back his love.

Bobby Bowden and son Jeff who, coincidentally, is the best possible person for the job of offensive coordinator at FSU in the whole universe. Really. Especially because he wears Oakleys.

Myles Brand flashes his Selig School of Accounting license here.
First we’re told that the BCS system makes more money than an hypothetical bowl system, then we’re told that only ten football programs make money in the NCAA. And I get fifty thousand hits a day…

Dramatic headline, sure. But the guy’s got problems at his new gig.

(Note: sometime around ten years ago, the word “problem” became predjudicial, nasty, and avoided. Problems became “issues”, which were presumably better, resolvable things, unlike problems, which weren’t. Fuck that-we at EDSBS have problems, and arent’t afraid to say so. Henceforth “issues” will refer to magazines and notions.)

Here’s the latest felonious cock, putting himself into somewhere where he shouldn’t have been in the first place. And no, we can’t help ourselves.

In this ESPN article, LSU tailback refers to new coach Les Miles first as “friendly.” Just what a coach wants to be known as…

We’re shocked to read about Jerry Glanville’s evidently strong interest in coaching at Northern State University in Aberdeen, South Dakota. Glanville is one of four finalists for the job, and was talking in the interview as if he were already the head coach of the team.(He very well might think that.)

Troubling stuff, for sure, for a number of reasons. First, we weren’t aware that being around Boomer Esisason and Dan Marino’s little man-spats was so unbearable that you’d consider taking a job at a D-II school in South Dakota. Time to start the healing, men! Or you’ll lose Jerry Glanville and his black jackets and cowboy boots! And don’t forget his incisive commentary!

Another troubling thing is finding out that not only do they have football in South Dakota-color us surprised-but that one could walk around outside in November and December there without the icy winds stripping the flesh from your bones.

The final troubling thing in all this is Glanville’s website, a tribute to either his short attention span or his fondness for black jeans. You can peruse his bio, look at more pictures of him wearing black jeans than you can shake a stick at, or just buy a Glanville Motorsports t-shirt, which comes in-yep-black.
Oh, and Glanville lives in Cumming, GA. Heh-heh. Cumming.

(P.S. Check out videogamecritic.net for a hilarious discovery under the Sega Genesis games F-L. Jerry Glanville had his own Sega Genesis football game! And according to this, it really sucked, kind of a Mutant Football League knockoff without the “kill the ref” play or body counts. Included below is a screenshot. Savor its large pixels…)

Dennis Dodd’s take on stinking rich Rick Neuheisel.

Pac-10 institutes replay now, which still won’t keep the average over/unders on West Coast games below 55. Vegas breathes a sigh of relief.

Geniuses don’t resign, at least according to Gary Barnett. Further proof that the man isn’t dumb, just shameless.

Genius alert in Knoxville: despite whipping the ass of a pretty good A&M defense in the Cotton Bowl, Rick Clausen is going to start his senior season on the bench for the Vols in 2005. Has Fulmer caught the genius bug? We used to think of Fulmer as a conventional kind of dude who tucks his undershirts into his boxers and defines “thinking outside the box” as “trying the spicy sauce they put on the side of the Blooming Onion” every now and then. Are we seeing the blossoming of a wacky, Gary Barnett-esque decision here, followed up with months of second-guessing, forum-stretching complaints from fans, and talk-radio conjecture about Fulmer’s coaching?

As a shit-starter, we can only say this: we really, really hope so.

18-of-27 for 222 yards with three touchdowns in the bowl game. Have a seat, Rick.

Our local sports talk station, the estimable 790 the Zone, brought Lynn Westmoreland, Republican rep from Newnan, to talk about the necessity for steroid hearings and the role he was going to play in them. We thought it might be something special when Lynn started talking about the danger to Babe Ruth’s record as point of national significance, especially since we’re sitting in Atlanta fucking Georgia, the home of Hank Aaron. But oh, it would get sooo much better, and in a very, very short span of time.

Not many people can convince you of their total stupidity in a matter of seven minutes. Lynn, pat yourself on the back. You called a sports talk radio station and referred to Pete Rose, “Johnny Hustle” in your parlance, as the “greatest baseball player of all time,” and somehow suggested that gambling and steroids were both un-American and dangerous to our nation’s youth.

With all due respect, Representative, we can think of nothing more American than gambling and steroids, especially in combination. The World’s Strongest Man and the World Series of Poker are two of the most popular shows on ESPN. I think you know where I’m going here…

The World’s Strongest Poker Players face off in a test of guile, brute strength, and their ability to control their raging, artificially manipulated hormonal levels in an unregulated contest unfolding somwhere off the coast of East Africa! Thrill to the sight of Gunnar Van Ilhoffen losing on a straight draw to Imo Killbiten, only to overtake him on the anchor toss five minutes later! Marvel as Scottish strongman McCrae Campbell plays five straight winning hands just minutes after rupturing his abdominal sac towing a jetliner with his teeth! See Fijian Kao Mahaleaiaiaiaaha rip the arms of former champ Sigmar Ramheart off is a fit of blind rage after losing to the veteran in the Volkswagen carry! Only on ESPN 5! Sponsored by EAS Performance Supplements and the Tourist Council of Mauritius: “Because what happens in Mauritius, stays in Mauritius.”

Phil Hellmuth, Texas Hold ‘Em master, wants to play poker and take steroids at the same time. Why won’t you let him?

We’ve been a bit distracted by this odd indoor game lately, a most curious thing that occurs in group settings during the months not involving football. There’s a hoop…a ball…and some other stuff, and though I don’t quite get the whole concept behind it, they do have one thing I find superior to college football.

You see, at the end of each season, tho’ they’ve played all their games, they feel the need to crown one team a champion. Deciding that voting on such a thing would be silly and unscientific, they allow a slew of teams-some quite small and atrocious, but nevertheless eligible-to compete on a national stage with the titans of the scene. They pair off teams, rewarding those with good records by pairing them against lesser “seeds”, and let them decide who the best team really is by-gadzooks!-playing the game.

Oddly enough, no one complains about the lack of say, quirky traditionalism in the system. No one seems to miss, say, geriatric boosters in oddly colored jackets dillying about the place, or festive parades celebrating the event. In fact, the whole thing is so businesslike that scads of money can be made in just the short span of three weeks! Shovels full, I tell you! And with a real champion crowned at the end!

What folly! Oh, I shall miss the deformed giants with their squeaky shoes when their mad party ends. Pity they play a game without the merits of the bowl system. Wheresoever shall they get their gift bags and commemorative baseball caps? And the festive parades…oh, and what of the greeters? Who’ll feed the unemployed greeters if we adopted such a mad system?

Myles Brand loves the BCS, and so should you, you fucking ingrate.