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Holly, 7:11: This is your liveblog, and it's eleven minutes late because Fearless Leader Swindle is stuck in traffic trying to buy beer. Hand to God. Anyway, NOW IS COME THE SEASON OF GARCIA. Hit it.

Holly, 7:13: And an NC State fumble that looks suspiciously like something out of Sakerlina's playbook on a ram up the middle makes it 7-0, Gamecocks.

Holly, 7:15: And while we’re on commercial…are we alone in shaking in rage at the Chesney song that was somehow, someway, Even Fucking Worse than we all thought it could be? To thrust the absolute nadir of human existence so close to the beginning of glorious foobawseason is an act of human cruelty worthy of a visit to the Hague, WWL.

Holly, 7:20: Davis rolled over so fast after that hit it looked like he might be twitching from spinal damage. Happily not the case, merely a fine display of ACC ground speed (because he's on the ground. UP TOP).

Holly, 7:23: I can't believe this game isn't taking place in Columbia with the volume of weird shit we've been treated to so far. A half-ass blocked 'Pack punt results in Sakerlina ball, and fuck it, Garcia's going downfield. Touchdown....and it's coming back.Offensive pass interference, somehow NOT flagged by the sideline official five yards away.

Holly, 7:26: ...which is how we get treated to an attempted Garcia scramble, counted as an unqualified success because he gets any positive yardage At All.

Orson, 7:28: Hey! Beamerball reference! Sean McDonough in the wild lives off low-hanging fruit. Apologies for the lateness: beer doesn't fetch itself.

Orson, 7:35: That pass was Philip Rivers FlOOOOOOOOOOAAAT-worthy. NC State and South Carolina are living up to being the opening band that breaks a string every song and shocks the bassist to death with an improperly grounded amp.

Orson, 7:40: Shhhhh. That's Spurrier working exclusively out of the shotgun, the thing I would like to shoot Kenny Chesney in the face with.

Orson, 7:44: Garcia hasn't looked awful here. TFMM is giving the good advice tonight.

Orson, 7:49: I don't want the Bowden grill. I want the Jeff Bowden grill, the one that sets everyone who touches it on fire. Also, the only beautiful football play of the night is destroyed by a penalty, the equivalent of touching the Jeff Bowden grill.

Holly, 7:55: Trying to explain Garcia love to Papa Shark. Invoking McConaugheyey. Daddy: "Who's he play for?"

Orson, 7:57: Double comments of the night. First, Jerkwheat from the comment thread re: Craig James remark about getting a hamburger at midnight: "'burger at midnight' is some kind of sex code, right?" Then, Holly's friend Fowler: "if that was a mark mangino grill, you could cook a whole pig on it"

Orson, 8:05: There you are, Spurrier-era South Carolina team! Terrible jumpy third down sack from Garcia, and a botched field goal to squander good field position? With a bouquet of frenzied panic and fizzly disappointment? We give it a 91, available for immediate drinking.

Holly, 8:12: "Mark May and Lou Holtz will join me..." That's not a plug. It's a warning.

Holly, 8:14: Nice of O'Brien to break out the milk-colored coaching shirts, just to remind us who we're dealing with.

Orson, 8:14: Please note professionals at work as Craig James and Jesse Palmer both assume there is no chance Tom O'Brien isn't playing for a field goal here.

Orson, 8:17: Time flies when you're sucking so bad several spectators have disappeared into the vortex of mediocrity created by this game. We're at the half. Hey, Erin Andrews! Haven't seen her this offseason.

Orson, 8:20: Halftime break. Entertain yourself in the comments as Rece Davis gets his drama class on.

Orson: 8:22: Okay, one last thing: Dr. Lou jumping to hit the Promise made us giggle unnecessarily. Approve.