SWINDLE: Atlanta, watching Jacksonville State @ Georgia Tech live and NC State @ South Carolina via ESPN360.
HOLLY: Los Angeles, watching Troy @ Middle Tennessee State via GamePlan and NC State @ South Carolina on ESPN.*
Neither, regrettably, will be in Denver wooing Ana Marie Cox…although I’m closer, Swindle. Just saying.
Were we That Sort Of Blog, this is the point at which we’d call you some sort of collective brotherhoodish nickname (”Rampant and Unapologetic SEC Bias Nation, PUTCHA HANDS IN THE AAAYYYYR!!!1!!”) and offer to race you to the comments for the commencement of geographic roll-call, drink choices du soir, and unseemly insinuations about your relationships with your mothers. We remain, however, cool and aloof as jungle cats (and just as shiny), and will merely inform you, as any well-bred hostess would, that the open thread below is available for any and all of the above needs. Go on, now.
*Also on the agenda: Frequent and vehement cursing of Time Warner SoCal for appalling nonexistence of ESPN360 availability in LA, denying me the Return of El Perrilloux. Get bent, sirs.
Scene: an unnamed Latin American urban center. Raw sewage flows through the gutters. A hopelessly beautiful child is held at gunpoint by armed thugs who, in addition to being evil for holding up a little girl with an AK-47, are ugly and wearing ugly clothes.
Bandito: And now, amigos, we’ll see if the girl gives up the candy!
Girl: Chinga te, cabron!
The girl kicks the bandito in the balls. He crumples. She runs, and turns down a dark alley. The gang scrambles after her. The alley runs into a dead end. The girl stops, her face lit dramatically from above.
Bandito, limping in: And now, chica, I will teech you sohm reeespect!
A wiry, handsome form comes into the frame behind the bandito. It is BROCK CARDINAL, ex-Navy SEAL, Congressman, and former car thief and chemist. (more…)
Reader Jason sends us further evidence of the robots coming for us any day now: Bo Merlot, coming to your tailgate whether you like it or not. (Click for larger image.)
The ads for Howard Schnellenberger’s Fortifying Rum for Gentlemen will be simpler: just a scorch mark on on the ground and a hole where a chump used to be. You’ll know it’s a Schnellenberger’s Fortifying Rum for Gentlemen ad from one sign: the smell of sex and Old Spice in the air.
Blogtoberfest: we don’t dream about anyone…except ourselves…
USC earns “Most Superficial” in Radar’s survey of bad education in America. Whatever, ugly poor virgin writer guy. Conquest Chronicles wants to know where this Bikini Hill is.
Clay, philistine that he is, fails to understand the intellectual underpinnings of the Save the Daves movement. Many things in life can be good, but so few are charming: that’s the point. Asking for both is going against the evidence life has offered us thus far.
Tennessee’s new facilities have carpet that looks like kit-kats bars arranged in opposing patterns. COINCIDENCE?
The giant bolted ‘T’ looks like something from Portal or 2001.
Phil: Open the cookie bay door, General Neyland. GN: i can’t do that, phil….
This week in Hayes versus Hall: Commenters love it!
Minnesota’s ACT scores are the worst in the Big Ten. What’s the ACT? Wharr’s mah banjo and whompin’ stick?
ESPN 360, you complete me. If you have it, its powers could be wondrous this season.
Sometimes physiology makes the decisions for you. For instance, we realized early on in life that, being born with the physique of a jaundiced infant who stumbled into the liquor cabinet early and often, we were never going to make it in professional sports, or college, or really even perform well in any form of athletic endeavor. Our body made the decision for us, and the mind kicked in a few extra decision points by acquiring a fondness for liquor, video games, and long hours spent searching Youtube for football clips. Sometimes things just flow in magical congress like that. Thanks, human body!
Physiology and its unique quirks also helped Mike Bellotti simplify his quarterbacks decision: Nate Costa’s body vetoed any competition for the starting job by not only developing a pesky torn meniscus in his left knee, but by throwing in a tear of the anterior cruciate ligament for free. Surgeons and mechanics know the same tricks, except that when doctors find “something else while they were under the hood,” you lose another season-your second in a row-to a knee injury.*
Justin Roper, the “less athletic” of the two quarterbacks (i.e. not a runner) will start against Washington. Ty Willingham has no comment.
*Or they tell you you have inoperable cancer. Either way it sucks.
Nebraska made this year’s Fulmer Cup in steady but unspectacular fashion, showing enough of the old barroom spite to make us pick them in the In The Bleachers podcast as a wacky but not insane Big 12 North candidate.
Nebraska remains subtly frightening in many ways. This is only one.
As with all predictions, we reserve the right to change it, deny it, outright lie in the face of its future shame, or to claim it despite never having made it. (more…)
Current status check, brain weather: Spongebob Raining Blood Manic.
Percy Harvin, Barbaro of the North Florida Piedmont. Percy Harvin will be out for Hawaii, possibly Tennessee, and possibly even the Ole Miss game according to the Orlando Sentinel, and may have to be humanely disposed of to end his suffering. This really should not surprise anyone who’s a.) familiar with Harvin’s history of injury and b.) who has been reading the attentive and consistent updates on his condition from any of eight sources in the Florida media. He’s been a dodgy proposition since offseason surgery, and the feature spot allotted Chris Rainey in the spring game happened for good reason: he’s the insurance policy, and has been from the moment Harvin went under the knife.
Not to diminish Harvin’s terror factor-substantial and nasty even at 80 percent-but he’s tightly wound and injury-prone, and putting him out there early risks the kind of compensatory injury that, in your case, leads to painful golf swing or a tinge in the shoulder when you reach for the tape dispenser. When Harvin compensates, muscles fly in whole pieces from his leg.
Chris Rainey, Quotehorse. By the time he leaves Florida, he will be known as the Secretariat of awesome quote. Our suggestion for a current nickname is “The Americaback,” since like America, Chris Rainey not only loves white women, but also would like more porno in his sex ed, please.
USF charges $6.75 for a cold beverage. The Wiz led us to the sad tale of USF’s concession apparent concession gouge, an inconvenience countered by the inexpensive ten buck tickets one can get at RayJay for Bulls games. Also, as with fluoride in most cities, Tampa adds Geritol and Rum Runner Mix to the drinking water to satisfy the needs of its two largest residential demographics, old people and drunks. So you really do get your $6.75 out of it.
Artrell Woods cannot be broken by your puny weights. Walking, talking, and playing football is more awesomely improbable for some than others. Viva la defying odds!
Ron Franklin, now calling Aussie Rules Football. Awful Announcing has the full roster up: only calling Dingo League Maimball could get the stentorian voice of SEC football, Ron Franklin, further away from his proper niche in this universe than his call tonight: Oregon State at Stanford, where he’ll be vibrating the pipes with Ed Cunningham and “LESTAKEITDOWNTOMYMAAAAN” Jack Arute. South Carolina/NC State gets the Depeche Mode Crew of Fowler, Palmer, and Andrews, while Pam Ward will continue her love affair with brunchy Big Ten games with Syracuse at Northwestern THAT SOUND YOU HEAR IS VOMIT HITTING THE FLOOR.
Our first game of the year, Hawaii at the People Boil that is Florida Field, will have the three Daves on Raycom, which beats two pair any day.
December 7th, 2008. 3:40 a.m. at The Cheetah Club, Atlanta.
[Omar Hunter, Florida freshman tackle, walks into the club. He has just finished an SEC title game with seven tackles, two sacks, and two passes batted at the line of scrimmage. His back feels springy, lithe, and free of any injury. He sits at a table with fellow Florida defenders Major Wright, Jacques Rickerson, and Joe Haden.]
Hunter: They didn’t even check my ID, man. Isn’t this place supposed to be closed now?
Rickerson: You don’t need an ID at the Cheetah, baby. All you need is an SEC Championship. And you have one of those. UNDEFEATED!!!!
Wright et al: YEAAAAH!!! [They raise drinks.]
Hunter: Where’d you get that champagne, Maj?
Major: They’re just giving it to us. They don’t even want us to pay! The strippers really like us, too! I know they always say that, but this time they really mean it!
Strippers, in chorus: WE DO! WE REALLY, REALLY LIKE YOU!
Haden: Man, it’s amazing how we suddenly took the step into being real, live All-SEC corners in just our second years as starters! (more…)
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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.
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