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This ad's been running for most of the season, and the Big East's web site hosts an online version of it (for us to poop on.) Why mention another mediocre conference ad that looks straight from the production shop of the local a/v club?

Quick answer: because this one has the Big East coaches reading dialogue, guys whose worst performances are usually reserved for their basest local endorsement deals. (Tommy Tuberville's Kroger ads are supposedly the ne plus ultra of the genre, but we'd happily nominate Urban Meyer's work in a jewelry shop ad in Gainesville. Robert Deniro towards the end of Awakenings wasn't shakier. The first person to admit this is Meyer, who has called his endorsement skills "terrible." )

Watch the ad, and then see if these implications aren't totally bullseye material:

--Bobby Petrino just don't give a fuck. About you, about the Big East, about your momma, life, the universe, or the Louisville Cardinals, for that matter. Some people acquire the skill of being a smartass to cloak their inner romantic or to fit in with a particularly sarcastic group of co-workers. They may act like they don't care, but deep down they're ready to have an awkward group support hug the instant life shakes the rafters a bit.

Petrino, however, is pitch black smartass to the core--he reads the lines like a hostage reading a ludicrous confession beaten out of him over the course of three days. Sure, he's saying he's a Zionist spy for the CIA, but the smirk and the "as soon as I get out of this room I'm carpet-bombing all of you" look gives his inner wiseass away. Makes you wonder what his recruiting pitch is: "We're Louisville. We score lots of points. We'll pay for your school. You'll get lots of ass 'cause you're a football player. Leadership and integrity and some shit like that's real important around here. Jesus fucking Christ, I got thirty more calls to make today, so keep it short, junior. Go, Cardinals, I mean. Bye."

--Jim Leavitt, the guy with the Richard Mulligan from Empty Nest mug and the poofy mid-80s spike, won't be the next coach of Kansas State simply based on the way he says "USF Bulls" in the commercial. He prounounces it with the pride you only hear in certain other choice announcements like "Yes, it really is ten inches long," and "I once drank an entire case of Coors in the parking lot with Ol' Dirty Bastard." Based on that alone, Leavitt really is living the dream.

--Rich Rodriguez, while a fine coach doing a great job, has a positively ginormous head. We'd suspected as much from watching Mountaineers games, but video evidence has confirmed the spectacular dimensions of his cabeza--so big the directors back the camera off of him to show it in proportion to his body. Otherwise, his face would fill the television screen like O'Brien's in 1984 and send small children screaming from the room in fear.

He makes things worse by accentuating the size of his noggin by sticking to the hairstyle of choice in the Big East, the gel-helmet do, with serves the same purpose for the skull as a Wonderbra does for a woman with big tits: dramatic magnification of already spectacular size. We're just surprised that clipboards, headseats, pens, and the first down markers don't fly hurtle through the air towards it, drawn by the massive gravitational pull of his skull.

--Greg Robinson has that blissed-out Prozac look about him, which could make him the next Pete Carroll or just mean he's really on Prozac and looking for heavier meds. If we had his offense this year, we'd bump that shit up to Haldol stat.

--The Wannstache in motion loses none of its grandeur in the video. Truly college football's finest lip-cozy.

Big East football: suitable for Mustache Wednesday.