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Every Day Should Be Saturday

Updated: 2017-04-25T14:40:50-04:00




THIS DIDN’T HAPPEN, WE DENY EVERYTHING URBAN MEYER IS UNIVERSALLY ATTRACTIVE, ACCEPT IT Urban Meyer is a.) just universally handsome on every level, and you’re going to have to live with that, and b.) the most confident-looking child you’ve ever seen. Look at him. That child took three tanks and one RPG into Tripoli in 1944 and came out with three German timepieces and the deed to the city. You’ll hate him when it’s over, but by god you’ll respect him for getting you through it. THE SENATOR’S FAMILY, IN QUADBOX FORM When he is not in DC serving his constituents, Senator Herbstreit (R-TN) lives in Franklin with his daughter Davina and her two sons, Cooper and Archie. CAN’T WAIT TO GET TO CALIFORNY Old Mike Gundy is definitely inside the barn at the end of Grapes of Wrath, sleeping off a hard day of shoeing horses. DAVID POLLACK’S CHEEKBONES, Y’ALL David Pollack, look at you, with your flawless cheekbone-ass face. Disney character-ass lookin’ self. Kindly retired Malibu part-time personal trainer and pastor who also surfs old man-looking self. OLD ED IS JUST CURRENT ED I once backed over that woman’s mailbox leaving a party. SHE WAS NOT PLEASED AND NO SHE DID NOT FORGET ABOUT IT, EVER. THAT’S JUST GOOD FUNDAMENTALS You have to like how old they had to make old Desmond look to even come close to looking “old.” Also old Desmond is a pilot, a week shy of retirement, who will land a 737 with ease in a crosswind during a hailstorm. He wants you to know it’s been a pleasure flying with you, and hopes you choose Delta again. [/light patter of applause in the cabin] THIS IS A FAULKNER FAMILY IF FAULKNER WROTE ABOUT THE YEAR 2004 WE’RE SORRY FOR THE THINGS WE’VE DONE IN LIFE LIKE MAKING THIS PHOTO WITH A FREE APP WE’LL PAY FOR IT WE PROMISE WE ALL DO WHAT DID THEY DO TO OLD KEV’S HAIR Science is never wrong, so it must be true: when Kevin Sumlin ages he will at one point be given old televangelist hair. Lady Sumlin is the mom we were desperately in love with growing up. Having said that we will now avoid Texas A&M football until he is fired or retires or leaves for another position. THIS IS TOO REAL, FACEAPP. GENES WITH AN ENTHUSIASM UNKNOWN TO MAN This is a photo app where you can’t blend faces but it is also realistic—because if you look at the Harbaugh family, you realize Jack Harbaugh has the strongest genes of anyone on the face of the planet. HE’S ADORABLE Y’all hate but Ryan’s going to be a devastatingly handsome older man. [...]



NO ONE ESCAPES THE FIGURE FORTY LEG LOCK, NO ONE Because of other work we didn’t get this shitpost up on Friday. However, it is Monday, and we are still behind so enjoy leftovers. Some are original and some are not, simply because some people simply have natural complements in the world of wrestling, and some are so close to being wrestlers already that they require their own signature moves, like oh we don’t know let’s pick one at random say...Mike Gundy. Nick Saban: The Medical Redshirt (You get thrown out of the ring, and into North Alabama’s starting lineup) Bill Snyder: The Windbreaker/Thrill Snyder/Hun Bundler/Triple Jump Prunesault Dana Holgorsen: The Slams Casino/Sharpshooter/Hair Raid Gary Patterson: The Three Star Frog Splash, because five stars are for lesser programs that can’t develop talent Dabo Swinney: The Howard’s Rock Bottom/Diamonds Cutter Mike Leach: Arr-KO, Peg Leg Drop Urban Meyer: Urb Stomp, Five Star Press Charlie Strong: The Bull Nelson Bronco Mendenhall: Bronco Mendenhall Jim Harbaugh: Satellite Camp Stunner (Appear suddenly in opponent’s own trailer; toast with milk, kick to balls, stunner, celebration with more milk) Bobby Petrino: The Last Ride Jim McElwain: Swampton Bomb/‘Villeswitch DJ Durkin: Sister Crabagail Hugh Freeze: LOIn Tamer Kirk Ferentz: Million Dollar Dream, obvs PJ Fleck: The Row-Dog Kirby Smart: [will share name of finisher with public when given permission by UGA press office] Ed Orgeron: Death Valley Driver/Crawfish Clutch (just the Camel Clutch, but then Ed and staff join around your beaten form for a delicious lunch of local crustaceans while watching film thoughtfully and attentively on an iPad propped on your back) Kliff Kingsbury: The People’s Elbow (because like Texas Tech there’s no defense) Justin Fuente/Bud Foster: The Lunchpail (tag team, Bud goes Stone Cold with the beers afterwards) Tom Herman: F-512, DDPee, You’re a Peein’ Uppercut (Tom Herman thinks about pee a lot is what we’re saying) James Franklin: Franklinsteiner, Four Star Press, Cesaro Swing (he just seems like he’d be a Cesaro Swing dude) Dan Mullen: Maroonsault, Cesaro Swing Bret Bielema: Scorpion Death Hock/Atomic Keg Drop (must wrestle under name “Ham Ham Bigelow” #wps) Gus Malzahn: Crossface Single Wing Mike Gundy: Reverse Pokeslam/Okie from Muskogee (flying elbow drop from top rope, mullet flying like the flag of freedom itself)/Figure FORTY Leg Lock Jimbo Fisher: The Deer Stand/The Yeti Cooler/The Seminole Wind (multiple offense featuring multiple finishing moves, Jimbo must leave in hunter camo trim truck) [...]



NICK SABAN AND LANE KIFFIN COEXISTED FOR THREE YEARS, ALL PEACE AND RECONCILIATION IS POSSIBLE Renee Zellweger and Kenny Chesney were once married. Bing Crosby and David Bowie sang a Christmas song together. Andre Agassi and Barbra Streisand dated; once, the city of New Orleans, already noted for lax management and a leisurely approach to administration, was ruled by the Spanish. Senegal and Gambia were one country for about seven years once, and buddy if you don’t know how weird that was YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT THE GAMBIA, BUDDY. Some of those things persist into the present, so much so that they are in danger of achieving normal status. Selena Gomez is dating The Weeknd. West Virginia, for some reason, is in a long term relationship with the Big 12, while Florida State is in the same conference as Syracuse. Phil Simms has been in a parasitic relationship with the sports television industry for decades now. For reasons unclear to humanity, there are combination Taco Bell/KFCs still in existence. People go to them, unblinking and thoughtlessly working around the absurdity of this mongrel lardbox’s existence. So for a moment—just one, fleeting contemplative moment of your busy day—consider the oddity of Lane Kiffin and Nick Saban sharing the same office roof for not one, not two, but three seasons. "No, that's not really how I do it. Greg (McElroy) knows about those," Kiffin said. "Those things come up, and everybody has different ways of dealing with them. It's just not really how I do it. I'm not really big on humiliating assistant coaches in front of everybody. I write down notes. In the staff meeting, I explain what we want to get done." This comes after the joyous radio interview excerpt where former Bama defensive tackle Jonathan Allen confessed that the best part of practice was blowing up offensive plays and triggering Nick Saban into tirades against Kiffin. One day, when Nick Saban is Governor of Alabama and Lane Kiffin is the tight ends coach at UTEP, we’ll look back and wonder how any of this happened, or how Lane Kiffin wasn’t given a permanent medical redshirt by Nick Saban and thrown bodily from the lip of Bryant-Denny Stadium. Another reminder: Lane Kiffin was fired, and then replaced with Steve Sarkisian, who then coached one game, acquired a perfect 0-1 record as Alabama offensive coordinator, disagreed with Saban about how the offense would be run, and then left for the Atlanta Falcons. If the Falcons lose the Super Bowl again this year, Steve Sarkisian will unlock the saddest achievement in this video game we call college football: Losing two championship games as a coach at two different levels in consecutive years. It’s weird to hope for this out of random malice, and no, you’re the one sort of hoping this happens, you terrible human, you, you who is definitely not also experiencing an insane but still real twinge of regret that an asteroid didn’t come closer to earth this week. That’d be wrong, and bad, and scary, and not at all morbidly entertaining.* *peers up at asteroid and yells YOU AIN’T SHIT I CAN’T EVEN FEEL THE HAIR ON MY HEAD MOVING RIGHT NOW, YOU SCARED COME DANCE A LITTLE CLOSER, EILEEN [...]





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The Fullcast was gone for a little while, and now it isn't. Naturally, it's time for some meaty football talk about topics like:

  • Richard Spencer, and how dumb it is to appeal to racists in the South by telling them football is bad
  • Alex Jones and the neurology of chili consumption
  • The path to a Rutgers spot (or two) in the College Football Playoff
  • Florida Atlantic's new recruiting hashtag #BLOWEDUP18
  • Kentucky's TaxSlayer Bowl Attendee rings
  • American Gladiators and Disney (not related, missed opportunity by us)
  • Mark Davis. Just a banner episode for dumb white guys!



It’s the offseason around these parts, and one of the essential things we do every offseason is revisit our diet and exercise. Healthy living and careful planning in April helps us balance out those fall Saturdays, where we often wake up covered in Taki crumbs and high-ABV craft beer cans at 3am, having fallen asleep during an Oregon State late game. One of my biggest problems in the morning is eating a quick, healthy breakfast that doesn’t leave me starving and raiding the candy jar by 10am. The solution might be a familiar one: inexpensive, easy-to-prepare, protein-packed eggs! I decided to commit to eating them every single morning for a week, forgoing my usual oatmeal, smoothie, or gas station burrito. Here’s what happened! MONDAY Over the weekend, I picked up some farm-fresh eggs from the stand at the local market. Sure, they’re a little more expensive than the grocery store, but the bright yellow yolks have a richer, delicious flavor, and it’s nice to know they’re sustainably raised. I started simple, and cooked them over-medium, with just a sprinkling of black pepper and minced chives, serving it over sprouted bread with half an avocado. Outside, the dog barked skyward. By the time lunchtime rolled around, my normal mid-morning hunger pangs hadn’t materialized, and my energy level was great. This week is off to a good start. TUESDAY I was running short on time today, so I took a quick shortcut - breaking the eggs directly into the pan, giving a quick scramble with a fork, and dumping them right into a coffee mug to eat on the go as I rushed out for my 8:00am planning meeting. Locusts covered the branches of every tree. The simple life-hack saved me from derailing my healthy week early - I could’ve ended up on the fast-food path quickly if I hadn’t committed myself to this challenge, and it really didn’t take any more time than the drive-through would have. As I crossed the river, the water seemed choppier than usual. WEDNESDAY Hump Day! Why not spice up midweek, I figure, so I carefully laid poached eggs over a black bean salsa with a dollop of fat-free sour cream, for a quick south-of-the-border jaunt! We heard the coasts were lost before the television signal cut for good. The fear in the announcers’ faces was human, but unbecoming of professionals, I thought. The skies had been a foreboding gray since daybreak, but the streaks of red that criss-crossed them now gave the impression of an oil painting. An oil painting of a bloodied hand dragged across a chalkboard. I took a picture. The local weatherman loves viewer-submitted photos of interesting clouds, I chuckled to myself. The weatherman is dead. Turmeric can add a lovely bright color to your eggs, and is a natural anti-inflammatory. THURSDAY I had hard-boiled some eggs the previous evening, so I chopped those up and mixed them with diced celery and low-fat greek yogurt for a healthy spin on egg salad. I was out of pepper, but egg salad just doesn’t taste right without. Perhaps the neighbors have some. Their rear door was open, and croaked lazily on its hinges, swayed by the dusty wind that whipped through the bare trees. I found the neighbors in the kitchen. Who could blame them for having taken the easy way out? In time, perhaps I would come to envy their resolve. A dash of Tabasco’s lighter green-chile sauce brightened the salad’s cool crunch. FRIDAY We would need our strength if we were to make it to the Gulf before winter. Luckily, eggs are packed with Omega-3s, selenium and B12. I cracked them with one hand, directly into my mouth, one by one. A trickle of egg white ran down my chin. I saw no reason to wipe it away. They would be here soon, and appearances would not matter. SATURDAY We stayed off the highways. The visibility was too high, the roads too fast. You could be swept up at a moment’s notice - there would not even be time to react before they took you. The old freight rail tracks led south alo[...]



“GATOR FANS. MORONS” Big Trouble is a faintly remembered cinematic scud, a tossed-off never-was that disappeared quietly in spring 2002 after losing over $30 million at the box office. That makes sense in hindsight, even if there were times in American history when the sentence “Box office draw Tim Allen” made something like sense. This is mostly because it was savaged in reviews for being manic but unfunny, and underwent heavy revisions due to its plot Its plot involved a nuclear weapon being smuggled onto an airplane, and its original release date was on September 21, 2001. You see the major issue, but there was also this. Jason Lee is cast as a vagrant who lives in a tree and devours Fritos in a shameless bout of product plugging. That part seems pretty chill. Despite its failure, we should remember Big Trouble for its best moment and contribution to college football cinema: the running gag involving a Miami sports talk host calling out for any Florida fan to call in after a loss, and one lonely fan doing it, yet saying nothing whatsoever besides “well I’m here.” src="" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" style="top: 0px; left: 0px; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;"> There is so much deep accuracy here. There’s a Northeasterner who calls college football fans “morons” in this scene, doing so unironically even though they are in all likelihood a Jets or a Mets fan, and thus committed to a form of stupidity transcending even that of college football. There’s the conversation, which if you logged enough time listening to local sports talk radio you have actually heard in real life. Not only is this one of the oldest and most obviously baited hooks in the history of sports talk radio, but it is also one of the most effective. It’s also geographically accurate— Miami football fans and hosts catering to them love to taunt Florida about things, usually just before or after the Canes lose to UVA or someone like that.* *It’s hard to rebut! Their last win over Florida was a victory over Will Muschamp, and who achieved that besides Georgia Southern and a Mizzou team with seven first downs and 119 yards offense. There’s Dennis Farina. That’s it, but it’s enough, because that’s Dennis Farina. There is one inaccuracy: This shows Florida fans on a plane, “traveling to a game in numbers.” We don’t do that, both because a court order is a court order, and also because lately we’ve been able to drive to all our bowl games from home. [...]





Girls was raw. Girls was refreshing. Girls was realistic. It was also recalcitrant, rakish, restless, rude, repugnant, and ridiculous. Some of those are words I took from the Wikipedia page for Girls; others are from a Google search for “adjectives that start with r.”

When Girls first premiered, it made people feel things. This is what art does - it alters the viewer’s status quo, forcing a reaction at a chemical level. Art changes you, in ways you may not have anticipated or even wanted, but not in ways you find yourself able to ignore. Unrelatedly, this is also what a fire ant bite does.

I think that was enough verbal stalling and now I can admit that I have never seen an episode of Girls. This was not the product of some bold or meaningful choice on my part. It just wasn’t a show I watched, much like The Shield or Homeland or House of Cards or Bones. Girls might have been really good, or really bad, or both. Couldn’t say.

Anyways, here’s Sally Field.

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WHAT DID YOU GET ME [SCENE: the practice facilities of Minnesota Golden Gophers football] DEFENSIVE END: Nice day today. TACKLE: Beautiful. Hey, how’s your mom doing? [a speck appears in the sky above them, and slowly grows larger] DEFENSIVE END: She’s good, thanks for aski- VOICE: [faintly at first, but then growing in volume] wooooooOOOOOOOO TACKLE: You hear that? DEFENSIVE END: [nodding] Yeah, hey, look, let’s step aside for a second. [a refrigerator-sized metal capsule crashes into the middle of the field, leaving a large, smoking crater] [a moment of stunned silence, then a man bursts out, clapping] P.J. FLECK: WOOOOOOOOO How about that landing, gentlemen?! MAGNIFICENT. You remember when Red Bull had that guy parachute from space? I’ve got some terrific friends at Red Bull, ELITE ACQUAINTANCES, and I told them: hey - I LOVE SPACE. It’s terrific. All my favorite movies are set there. Star Trek. Star Wars. STARSHIP TROOPERS. [slapping ground with an oar] GRAVITY, STARRING THE TRANSCENDENT AMERICAN ACTRESS SANDRA BULLOCK. Space is terrific. I wanted to jump from space, too. But I don’t believe in parachutes. Slows you down. It’s like negativity. I want to hit the ground running. JUST LIKE WE’RE GOING TO HIT THE GROUND RUNNING IN OUR CHAMPIONSHIP SEASON. So I had them design this capsule. Just like Superman’s. His planet blew up, but he made lemonade from that lemon, gentlemen, and he harnessed the power of our awesome YELLOW SUN, just like we will [he’s been doing burpees for the last 30 seconds of this, by the way] WEEK ONE AGAINST THE SUNY-BUFFALO BULLS. WIDE RECEIVER: That’s... that’s great, coach. CENTER: Really great. FLECK: Now, I know you think the season’s a long way off. It’s only spring. That’s negative thinking, gentlemen, and the only negatives I want to hear about are my own test results from the radioactive spider that bit me last week! DEFENSIVE END: did he just say- FLECK: Spring isn’t downtime! We’ve got something special. Something ELITE planned to get you gentlemen motivated this time of year. TEAM CAPTAIN: That’s right, coach, the annual Spring Game is this Saturday, and- FLECK: I HAVE ALREADY SIMULATED THAT GAME EIGHTEEN TIMES IN MY BACKYARD HOLODECK. WE WON SIXTEEN OF THEM. No, it’s something even better, something fantastic. Gentlemen, I was at Home Depot the other day. Fantastic place. Raw materials. Potential. [hitting ground with oar again] I CARVED THIS OAR MYSELF WITHOUT THE USE OF TOOLS. I was working a double-shift there last night, I do it for fun, they pay me in nails, and they’ve got this great thing. Spring Black Friday! I love Black Friday. It’s shopping, but there are winners! Marvelous. Well, we can apply that same logic here. The Wisconsin game is seven months away. Their time will come. [hitting baseballs into bleachers with the oar] NO MAN CAN KNOW THAT DAY OR HOUR. In the meantime, we’re going to develop some healthy SPRING RIVALRIES. CENTER: That’s great, coach, so you want, like, offense vs. defense? Seniors vs. juniors? How should we split up? FLECK: GENTLEMEN WE WILL NEVER SPLIT UP. We are one, living, breathing, indivisible organism, with lines of communication unseen to the human eye, just like how trees in a forest communicate through microscopic fungal root systems I READ A THING ON IT ONCE. [turns to assistant coach] I did your taxes just now. Saved you thousands. NO, we will remain one unit. Our rival... is spring itself. QUARTERBACK: Wait, what? FLECK: I want you to look at that tree over there. See it flowering? It’s an immense display of hubris. It’s trying to show you up. That tree is your enemy. All trees are now. With their magnificent trunks. Soaring branches. THEY WERE INSTRUMENTAL TO THE SUCCESS OF OUR HEROES IN THE LORD OF THE RINGS. QUARTERBACK: So, hold on... FLECK, rattled: Let’s try something different.[...]