Welcome to our Factor Five Five Factor Preview of West Virginia at Colorado. If this seems loopier than usual, we blame the lack of oxygen up here. In Atlanta. At 1057 feet.
Ahhh, blackface: do you ever fail to amuse? GO BIFFS!
Category one: Nebulous Statistical Comparisons of Dubious Validity. For West Virginia, we will select the number 5380, or the number of feet above sea level that Folsom Field sits at give or take a few feet here or there depending on how the location of your seats and how much Boulder-standard zoink weed you’ve consumed prior to entry.
West Virginia fans are very, very, very concerned about this number:
Every time I write something about Bill Stewart’s reluctance to make a big deal out of the altitude problems playing in Colorado, the e-mailers come out of the woodwork. They relate personal stories of the difficulties they’ve faced adapting to altitude and begging someone - anyone, please - to convey the seriousness of the situation to West Virginia’s coach.
We would pay at least thirty dollars to read one of the more impassioned one of these e-mailers. (more…)
Rudy Carpenter lines up against Georgia this weekend, a matchup most people in Atlanta seem to think may result in Carpenter ending up as a thick reddish/yellow paste on the turf of Sun Devil Stadium. Consider, if you will, the concept we repeated in Hayes vs. Hall this week: that nothing can be done to Rudy Carpenter that has not happened to him already. He’s been benched, taunted by name by an entire defense, was sacked 57 times in the 2007 eason, has taken deathly shots from the Pac-10’s nastiest defenders, and was trampled by a herd of runaway moose as a child. All of this, and he still has 33 consecutive starts under his (hernia) belt.
If his history of playing through hasn’t impressed you yet…well, perhaps a helpful chart will.
(Illustration: Holly.)
We’re much better punctuated on al.com than we are in real life.
Let’s just put that to bed. Kill it. Shoot it in the head, forget it, just let it sit there and rot so we can all move past it and just say, yes, yes, USC’s vastly better than Ohio state, and that’s all there is to it, and my that’s quaint and interesting but there’s much more football to come. Scads, nay, a veritable surfeit of football to forget, to achieve, to win championships and erase the ghastly memories of…
Hi. Chill-sloth just saying hi. No reason. Keep reading.
“Easy” was one word defensive end Kyle Moore used after missing practice two days last week with back spasms before having the game of his life (eight tackles, a fumble recovery, two tackles for loss for 19 yards, including a sack for 15).
“You can tell they don’t practice full speed,” Moore said of the massive Buckeyes who made it “easy” to fly past them.
“They were still getting into their (first blocking) move, and we’d already be into our second move (on defense) and past them,” Moore said.
Okay. We’re done now. Really. Please, talented players of USC, stop giving quotable quote about how you whipped OSU’s ass so badly you may have changed the climate in Ohio, thus robbing them of their poisonous but semantically significant namesake. Stop saying them, and we’ll stop printing them. (HT: Ted Miller’s Pac-10 blog.)
Hate Week has been sluggish on these internets this week, mostly because the game itself looms like a possible blowout for Florida, Tennessee fans have been hedging bets and drinking corn liquor from boots quietly in their hovels to prepare, and Florida fans have focused their energies by bitching about Emmanuel Moody’s lack of playing time.
So we had to dig deep to remember just why we hate the whole state of Tennessee, and suddenly one startling, shit-flecked reason splattered up from the depths of our subconscious: Nashville, Tennessee, where country music is processed, compacted, and then released on the world with a great farting noise from the anus of the country music industry.
Johnny hated Nashville. So should you.
Oh, country music didn’t necessarily start this way. (more…)
