In a move that has as much significance as the blogpoll, the master coaches have dropped USC to number #2 behind Texas in this week’s poll. The only explanation I have for this is that Gene Stallings must be an EDSBS fan.
Mike Bellotti, mustachioed coach of the Orgeron Oregon Ducks, has earned the nickname “Sledge” by destroying “something” with the Stanford logo on it during the halftime of their matchup a few weeks ago. (Something meaning anything from an alarm clock to a homeless guy with a Stanford shirt on?)
Ed Orgeron’s unique, potentially felonious methods of motivation are catching, but The Orge promises not to be outdone: at halftime of this weekend’s game against Kentucky, Ed has promised to eat a live bobcat to inspire his struggling squad, claws and all.
You say “bobcat,” The Orgeron says “snack.”
The House Rock Built, which is to Notre Dame blogs what we are to Florida football, has two fine posts this week on the upcoming Catholics vs. Mormons matchup with BYU. We have our own analysis of the game in a similar mode, basing ours on the pillars of civilization: ass, football, booze, caffeine, and sheer balls.
ASS
The Catholic Church’s fastest growing populations are in Africa. A-f-r-i-c-a. Ain’t no need in even asking, brah. Advantage: Catholics.
FOOTBALL
Lavell Edwards…or Knute Rockne? Advantage, Catholics.
BOOZE.
You got a problem with Dr. Booze, you got a problem with us. Utah: dry in more ways than one. Catholics: strong in Ireland and Spain. Advantage, Catholics.
Dean Martin concurs: on booze, advantage Catholics.
CAFFEINE. Colombia: Catholic. Provo: can’t buy a fucking Coke. Advantage, Catholics.
SHEER BALLS. Catholics: at one point actually charged patrons for admission into the afterlife. Mormons: had leader who told followers his mandate came on gold tablets he dug out of the ground…tablets that mysteriously disappeared because “God had retaken them.” But not before he wrote everything down, of course. Advantage: Mormons.
Admittedly, under our priorities, the Mormons never really had a chance here. (Really, if we moved there it might be the biggest mismatch in Provo since Jim McMahon stumbled around the campus.) But science never lies, friend.Overall advantage: Catholics.
Struggling Joe gives us a quality reference to Scott Frost’s surprisingly well-written Husker blog-surprising since Frost, who had to have suffered massive head trauma as a collegiate option qb, still seems to have access to his hard drive after all the hits. This time, Frost goes off on a truly despicable target not mentioned often enough with enough scorn: university town parking police. Frost’s take:
The parking cops at the University of Nebraska are the most ruthless, efficient, cruel, and pitiless band of enforcers since the Vikings dominated most of Northern Europe.
Well said. We knew people who let the University Police keep their vehicle rather than attempt to pay off their national debt-sized collegiate parking tabs. Our take: fuck the metermaids, fuck ‘em. That’s just how we feel, man. Points given for recognizing the obscure and embarrassingly dated musical reference.
Into every life, a little rain must fall. And on occasion, you get hit with your own personal Katrina, which is exactly what happened to Solon last week. Daddy needs a new pair of shoes; by Daddy we mean Solon, and by “shoes” we mean “rent for this month.” Solon’s undaunted though; his hands are shaking, his heart’s beating but HE’S STILL SHOOTING!!!! AND HE’S STILL GETTING HEADSHOTS! Enjoy.-ed.
Keep shooting, Solon.
The opening scene in the 2004 British movie I’ll Sleep when I’m Dead entails a man getting the absolute shit kicked out of him by three or four hard nuts in the middle of a wooded area. Just as the men decide he’s had enough (or, should I say, all but one of them decide that he has), one of the hard nuts walks up alongside the nearly-unconscious victim, pulls out his dick and pisses on him.
When I saw that, I said something like, “God Damn, that’s fucked up.” Said it out loud, right there in the theater. For me, that’s unprecedented, since I normally get pissed off when people talk during movies-but that’s how harsh the scene was.
Last weekend, I was reminded of that scene for the first time in nearly two years, because I was the nearly-unconscious victim, and instead of deciding I’d had enough, College Football whipped out its dick and pissed all over me.
Let me preface this by saying that in addition to making my weekly picks in this column, I’m also in a contest where I’m given certain games that I am mandated to select. I sit second in that contest, and I differed from the leader on four games last week, two of which were Minnesota -2.5 and Michigan St +7.5 (you’ll have to have seen these games, and believe in God, to understand the miracles that were involved in the losses of those selections-I don’t want to recount them here). I’ll admit that watching Glen Mason eat a fat one nearly made up for losing that pick, but there was absolutely no silver lining for the MSU debacle.
The twists of fate that led to those losses? That was the “getting the shit kicked out of me” part.
Life’s not fair. Neither’s college football.
The “getting pissed on” part? I’m sitting here Saturday afternoon, and realize through an inadvertent hit of the “guide” button on my remote that the UAB-Marshall game is on Channel 16 here in SF (UAB -3.5 was one of my picks). I generally don’t even go where this channel is-it’s in the middle of a bunch of Spanish stations, and I think C-Span’s around there too-but Saturday, for whatever reason, this channel was showing this game and I decided to watch a good bit of it, seeing as how I had a side.
So what does UAB do? They have two punts blocked, leading to TDs for Marshall on 18 and 34 yard drives. After this, the punt team shits its pants, and in the 4th quarter when the punter has to punt he shanks a 10-yard punt, leading to a 1-play, 40-yard drive for Marshall’s game-winning TD. At least the kicker (also the punter) had the decency to miss a 51-yard FG on the last play of the game to fuck his team as much as they had fucked me and my bet.
So, I am looking forward to the inevitable even-up that always happens over the course of the season. I’m 35-37, and there’s nowhere to go but up.
One final bit for you British film aficionados-this week, I’m sending Don Logan (from Sexy Beast) to visit the teams that I have selected, to ask them the following:
“Are you going to do the job? It’s not a difficult question, yes or no?”
If you’re familiar with the movie, you’ll know that should do the trick.
Here are this week’s picks:
Northwestern (+12.5) v. MICHIGAN STATE
I rate these teams as near equals. Both have ridiculous offenses, and below-average (if serviceable) defenses. (more…)
As we head into the weekend, just remember that sometimes it pays to plan your arrests:
Do you think he had a make up artist help him with this mug shot?
Lest you end up looking like this in your mugshot:
So have a great weekend and try to avoid the Po Po.
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.
Comments? Questions? Long strings of profanities directed at something we said? Please send your comments to harumphharumph -a- yahoo -dot- com. Please direct all tailgating photos and stories to edsbsfans -a- gmail -dot- com.
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