OH, SO YOU SAY YOU WANT THE SINGLE WING SET TO THE 1812 OVERTURE? Lucky day for you, then, since Chris is unearthing the roots of the spread over at Smart Football and catering to all your odd gridiron geek fetishes. Cannons. We has them.
He is disagreeing with Brian here, but hold off on Nerd Deathmatch until you read both and see that Chris is merely stating the obvious about any complex system: that Malzahn's offense, much like the spread in any of its variations, is a complex pastiche of of a lot of simple ideas married to a single framework. The genius of a good coach at the college level is not just in making these things cohere, but in putting them in a compact framework easily understood in limited practice hours by athletes who sometimes (note: sometimes) have other responsibilities besides football.
But if they do decide to tussle? ROBOT FOOTBALL ENGINEER FIGHT GO.
YOU SIZEIST BASTARD. In looking for "an edge" on Florida, Jimbo Fisher is resorting to making a friend of manorexia:
He quadrupled the weight-room staff and split players into three categories (fat, maintain and underweight), assigned each a diet and said he requires them to eat every meal in the cafeteria.
If any of them get too sassy despite being in the maintain category, he'll just start mentioning "those last five pounds you can't seem to lose." The same article also mentions James Coley's tweets without mentioning the phrase "broadcasting from a Vanagon while huffing a mysterious gas and wearing a shirt made of pringles glued together."
IN HIS PAST LIFE HE WAS BEATEN BY A SMALL WOMEN'S COLLEGE: Bill Snyder likes the idea of keeping five team divisions in the Big Twen, since it would allow even more room in the schedule for him to stuff K-State's resume with games that would shame even Florida's penchant for obliterating the Charleston Southerns of the world. Bill Snyder doesn't just like cupcakes: he puts them under an 80 foot wide magnifying glass he has in his backyard, focuses the rays of the sun on them, and then only dines on the red-hot ashes of what once was a cupcake.
NOT THAT HIS DIVISION MAY EVEN EXIST TEN MINUTES FROM NOW: Bob Stoops totally wanted to go to the Pac-10, and isn't even lying about it:
"What the Pac-10 brings is also such long tradition and history, great schools — great academic schools. I thought all of it was win-win in my eyes."
One stiff fart and the Big Twen crumbles, and there's little reason to think otherwise. Bob Stoops, btw, seems to have acquired a good chunk of Spurrier-esque aintgivafuck in his old age, and we like it.
YOU WILL MISS IT. Yeah, sure, you're getting a fancy new gym, but you will miss your old hole of a weight room, Georgia, because filthy, cromag weight rooms have a special hold on men that even the shiniest new Olympic lifting platform cannot shake. We still mourn the loss of Pete's Gym in Gainesville: fluorescent lights, dingy pictures of 70s bodybuilders on the walls, and odd pieces of homemade iron whose original use had been lost to the mists of time.
We once heard this exact conversation there between two men, who each represented the core demos of Pete's: a construction worker, and a drug dealer:
Construction: Yeah, gotta work out my boat muscles today.
Drug Dealer: Boat muscles?
Construction: Yeah, going to the lake. All the muscles you can see in the boat when you take your shirt off, man.
Drug Dealer: Fuck you.
Construction: Fuck you.
Pardon us, we're...we're just a little overcome by sentiment here.
STANDARD DEFECTIONS: Mike London loses five players at UVA in what seems like standard first year shuffling, especially when you consider Al Groh's habit of taking two star guys and coaching them into four star players. (Advantage: maximizing talent. Disadvantage: not having four star talent to begin with at UVA.)
NOT THAT TALENT IS EVERYTHING. Darrell Scott, 2008's OMGWUT recruit of choice, has ended up where all those without hope or further options end up: Tampa Bay. Scott will transfer to USF after plummeting down the Buffs' depth chart from 2nd string RB all the way to special teams, a byproduct of what is either Scott's lax work ethic or Dan Hawkins' madness. We would like to wager money on the latter, please. #intramurals