Such theatrical genius is a thing of the past, at least in an Auburn hat, that is. Tommy Tuberville has been fired as coach, setting off flirtations with Mike Leach and whomever else you care to mention in association with the job, including Bobby Petrino, Nick Saban, Chuck Bass, Charlie Weis (HA WE KEED), Gerg Robinson, Terry Bowden, Al Borges, Donald Rumsfeld, Phil Fulmer, Tommy Bowden, Rich Kotite, a particularly charismatic overhead projector, a sinister puppet that puts players through macabre torture scenarios, Sylvester Croom, Steve Spurrier, Senator Richard Shelby, Bela Karolyi, Lou Holth, Paul Giamatti (he’s in everything,) Jon Voight reading his lines from Varsity Blues over and over again, the techno-glam band Goldfrapp, and most likely, you.
(But definitely not Charlie Strong. No reason cited. Nope.)
How’s that ACC championship game shaping up, huh? Ticket sales? Booming? Everyone double booking it with Busch Gardens and a night doing ice block shots out in Ybor? OF COURSE THEY ARE. Don’t lick that shit, because you’ll catch shit off the ice you couldn’t get drinking the outflow pipe from a Russian medical waste facility. Trust us. We know from experience. Not that you’ll be there, because we’re sure the whole thing is completely sold out and you shouldn’t even think about going to a game the fire department will probably have to halt due to so many people being in the building.
If you don’t obsessively check Smart Football for new updates on at least a weekly basis, go hit yourself in the balls with the nearest heavy object. If you have no balls, i.e. you are female, then apply a heavy object to the balls of the man closest to you. When he grabs his jumblies and collapses to the ground asking “WHYYYYYYY?”, just nod at him and say, “You know why,” and then walk away. He’ll understand, even if he doesn’t and eventually bleeds out internally from the injuries.
Smart Football already had a brilliant piece on Saban’s defense; you may now add to it the companion piece on Urban Meyer’s offense, which Chris sums up beautifully:
If the old running offenses of yesteryear, in reflecting earlier times, were like punishing boxers who engaged in matches where the biggest and strongest won, then offenses like (Paul) Johnson’s and Meyer’s, in reflecting their times, are like martial arts: without sacrificing either strength or power, they punish you but also use speed, quickness, and cleverness to, hit you where you do not expect and probe to find your weak spots, and exploit them, witout mercy.
We can only hope Saturday unfurls in such techno-backed glory-the prospect of facing any Saban team out of year one terrifies us. Watch the safeties roll exactly where they’re supposed to roll, the linebackers hold contain, the corners play their assignments perfectly.
We could care less about the names on the depth chart: it’s the discipline you have to respect. They don’t go anywhere they’re not supposed to go on any play no matter the formation or scheme. Add talent, and you’re talking about a noose just waiting for someone to jump on in and test it out. (Saban: “Yep. Looks like that’s strangling you just fine.”)
Scene: A Manhattan brownstone at 245 East 73rd Street between Park and Madison. Sarah Jessica Parker Wilson sits on his bed, typing at his Mac and sneaking his sixth last cigarette of the night.
We hear his voice reading the words he is typing on screen.
SJPW: But what if, in the rush to find love, we have forgotten sex somewhere in all the rush? And is there enough sex in our love, and enough sex in our love? And where do both fit with the urge to have sex while you’re in love with someone else? And when facing a zone blitz, what the fuck do I do? And the sex? What of the sex?
Is Tommy Tuberville out? Do we believe what Dennis Dodd and WJOX in Alabama have to say? Tommy Tuberville, like a zombie, something we’ll believe is dead when we see the head rolling.
He sees things every day. Maybe some of you have heard this story before.
Excerpt From Coach Greg Robinson’s Last News Conference
The newest Dauphin may approach the bench. Chip Kelly has been named the latest “head coach-in-waiting” at Oregon, therefore thwarting the market for his formidable talents as an offensive coordinator. You have to wonder if there’s going to be a conference just for Jimbo Fisher, Will Muschamp, and Kelly in the off-season, much like the ones Arthur and the other sidekicks in The Tick used to have where they’d mope around, drink coffee, and complain about not getting the chance to be “full heroes” and their benefits package.
Yarr, methinks a real navy would do. Mike Leach interviewed at Washington, where he really could have his own pirate navy if he decides to take the head job as chief of the smouldering ruins of the Husky football program. Pat Hill and Steve Sarkisian also interviewed for the position, and Hill wore a tie and everything. (’Stache stayed strong, though, we assure you.)
You still have to get him a golf cart. Charlie Weis still wants that golf cart, because he’s getting another year most likely while boosters sell off organs and Siberian logging interests to prepare next year’s buyout in case the return to greatness suffers its 16th straight year of delay.
That guy? He does that. Spurrier did call out Lane Kiffin over a potentially improper recruiting call, you know, just to let him know who’s turning tricks on what corners here in the ESS-EEE-SEE. Spurrier also noticed your hedges are six inches too close to the boundary fence, which is a clear violation of the deed restrictions of this neighborhood, kid, and if you’re even thinking about putting up a Direct TV dish without consulting the local board, you’ve got hell coming your way in buckets.
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