Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Buckeye Fans

Jimbo and Robot Bobby

Is there a more ridiculous name for a grown human being other than Jimbo. Perhaps Scooter is worse but we're not talking politics here. By all accounts he is a terrific Offensive coordinator, and that has seemed to be what has been missing in past years, but that is a stupid fucking name. Before you start with your Urban comments that guy was a Pope. But there is also something that seems bizarre about a backwoods southern nickname and a Jewish last name. Like Bubba Lowenstein, or Skeeter Goldberg. I do honestly hope he does a good job there, because the days of epic Florida-Florida State battles seems like a distant memory now. I also think a good ACC keeps the SEC on it's toes. But if he does a good job there he could have that job when Bobby goes out to pasture, which I am convinced is going to be 2045. Robot Bobby will then become Athletic Director for another 1000 years.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

The Raw Sting of perpetual Defeat

I have a very difficult time with College Football on the PlayStation family of game consoles. I know more than the average bear when it comes to discussing the intricacies of the game, but I just can't seem to win even with the most absurd match ups. I'm not talking about him embarrassing my Gators at home most of the time, but really lopsided games. Like Nebraska vs Jackson State lopsided. Occasionally I can put together scoring drives but it all falls apart when I snatch defeat from the vicious jaws of victory. But a breakthrough occurred when I was finally able to beat him, not with Florida, or Ohio State. Not with Texas or USC but with a rag tag group of Hey Reb's from the University of Nevada at Las Vegas. The mascots had gigantic mustaches, and wide brimmed hats, but they rose to victory that day. Disney even plans to make a movie about this story. It'll go strait to DVD but they will put it in the vault after so many years and the collectables will have to get us by. My point being the way to go is the mascots. If you suck like me.

Felony Roundup

Corey Boyd is back like cooked crack. Maybe the confederate flag shouldn't be Spurrier's biggest concern. This still makes me laugh:


This one tehnically doesn't relate to a crime, beyond stupidity. Note to football players and athletes in general, stop fucking crazy drunk bitches. I know it's fun, but Christ.

Why do they insist on releasing details in these things? Did Duke not teach anyone anything? "Undisclosed team rules" works for drugs, why not rape allegations? Oh, and if it pans out, I hope a few hundred eyes are taken for an eye during a lengthy prison term. If not, again, stop fucking crazy drunk bitches.

Pretty shitty week (or so) for Joe Tiller.

Monday, April 16, 2007

A Gator To Hate

As I make my first contribution to this fine column of college football excitement, I believed a bit of disclosure was necessary. I am a member of quite an obnoxious lot. We wear abrasive colors and drink heavily. Mere mortals are canonized without even a short meeting with the Pope. More savage than a bunch of republicans force fed Dixie Chicks for two hours. Especially fond of reptiles. I am a Gator, and in the South it is a pastime like no other to hate the Gators. Even my close friends secretly hate me. But we have become the stuff of Urban legend and I wanted to clear up a few misconceptions about our lot.

We can be killed by a silver bullet, but only if it has been dipped in holy water. We do steal a child from a neighboring community of Bulldogs or Volunteers on Confederate History Day, but we won't kill it. We make it go on beer runs. Yet we are humble people. Our loud drunkenness is only one of many ways to watch College Football. Some in Mississippi like to come to games as if they were coming to church dressed in their Saturday best. In North Carolina they sit in the stands in amazement at how they got the ball all oblong. In Hawaii they play it next to lava. I don't really know if they do or not, but that's the way I'm going to imagine every box score from the Mountain West next season. Gainesville though is the center of the College Sports world, but that will not last forever. The good times will someday be over, as they are for Notre Dame, but I will live in the moment and hope not to be too obnoxious.

Top 8 Concluded

Check out 8-5 here.

4. YouDee the Blue Fucking Hen



BR: I like to think the girl in the front right is saying, "What a douche."
TRDoD: I'm just looking at their shirts. Isn't Blue Hen Fever what closes down Bangkok to visitors around Christmas?
BR: Blue Hen Fever is an epidemic sweeping Dover.
TRDoD: I think the girl behind him is throwing up.
BR: You can't stare too closely at a hen's ass without feeling some sense of nausea.
TRDoD: I think you would have to be doing coke to put up with the stress of such an assignment. I hope he gets some kind of band credit for this. And I hope the university is covering his habit. They owe it to him.
BR: They should offer a scholarship for such debasement.

Author's Note: Curt's e-mails became less frequent and coherent as we went along. I suspect alcohol, but I haven't ruled out heroin.

His Story: lol The blue hen! I had a girlfriend who went to Delaware. She was a good fuck. Oh, the history thing. Some guy brought a chicken to a game. It stuck.

3. Otto the...uh, Thing



BR: What is this thing, an orange who is a man? Because that's gay if true.
TRDoD: You know he's not actually an orange? He's just an animate orange ball of craziness of Syracuse athletics. Because if you've been to Syracuse during the winter there is actually no color at all. Syracuse is where Black and White was invented.
BR: Yet Jim Brown, an arbiter of coloredness, played there. Ironic.
TRDoD: He was extremlely black. He's no O.J. Simpson.
BR: I think the probelm is that nobody knows what "Orangemen" actually means. I mean, "Redmen" would lead to Indians. "Orangemen" makes you think of people with tanning cream. Which might be very popular in Syracuse, what with their blistery winters and lack of sun.
TRDoD: I think it's honestly a reference to the Order of the Orange in Ireland, who are the militant protestants that bomb Catholic militants. Proving that even without colored people white people will find some reason to kill each other.
BR: Don't tell the Klan that.

His Story: Otto? I don't know. That thing's fucking stupid. I need a sandwich.

2. Captain Cane the Ice Cream Cone



BR: Catholic Priests should try dressing as waffle cones.
TRDoD: His friends just call him Piss Storm.
BR: That kid seems to be thinking, "What the fuck dad? You put me next to this creepy dude? We're gonna have a talk later."
TRDoD: He grows up to be a dancer, or a greeter at WalMart with a latent dislike of sports and Disney's "On Ice" series of traveling shows
BR: I like the cape though. He's like a ridiculous super hero, a minor player in the DC universe. When the Golden Hurricane launches his piss storm only, um, yeah, I don't know any DC villains who could have withstood it. Wonder Woman was probably into it.
Seriously though, this image is fairly disturbing. He has the kid on his lap and a fist in his side. It's like he's saying, "Fair citizen, this boy is my toy from now on." Golden showers on children are never pretty. Teenagers, well, that's another story.
TRDoD: Doesn't look like there's a real rush to get to meet Mr. Piss Wind that day either.
BR: There are actually two other little kids in line, outside the shot who he's leering at. He has a menacing appearance. He's groping a boy. He looks fucking ridiculous. I really don't think there's anything else to do but arrest him.
TRDoD: And with that I say we move on. I'm getting to the bottom of the barrel, and that barrel was filled with piss.

His Story: Tulsa doesn't have a fucking college asshole.

1. The Stanford Tree



BR: I'm almost speechless here. It looks like an arboresque Mr. Potato Head.
TRDoD: Ok, first off I can understand the tree influence in northern California, but how do you get from tree to "The Stanford Cardinal". Not cardinals like the bird. Just Cardinal. Just one.
BR: Pretty fucking presumptuous.
TRDoD: Did Sid and Marty Kroft go to Stanford?
BR: I really can't get over the fact that it's a fucking tree. Let's take an inanimate object and animate the fuck out of it! I really want to kill it and all its sapliings.
TRDoD: And did the tree get coligen in the lips under pressure from the Hollywood crowd?
BR: You know what the pressures are like. That tree actually had a bout with anorexia a few years back.

His Story: i got a hore comign over you wat in?

And that's it, the worst mascots in college football. On a related note, I haven't heard from Curt since that whore was coming over, so if you hear anything let me know. He seemed like an alright dude. I'd hate for anything to happen to him.

Top 8

Welcome to Poll Position's inaugural Top 8. Today we'll be ranking the worst mascots. I guess that technically makes it a Bottom 8. Fuck you. It's our blog. You may be wondering, why eight instead of ten or twenty-five? Because we're lazy, and fuck you. It's our blog. As a special treat we've exchanged e-mails with mascot historian Curt Llewelin, author of Unsung Heroes: A History of Mascots Through the Ages. It's apparently out of print, but if you come across a used copy you can find out all you ever wanted to know about mascots, and probably a lot more than you wanted to know, for under a buck. That's enough of an intro I think.

8. Cocky the Gamecock



BR: Gamecock - A chicken that fights other chickens. That is the mascot of the state university of South Carolina.
TRDoD: What other mascots are based on something that is illegal in 49 states?
Middle Tennessee State's Fighting Meth Labs.
BR: The Portland State Fighting Assisted Suicides.
TRDoD: Oh, and Iowa State used to be known simply as Prostitution.
kind of like Heat, or Lightning, Just the Iowa State Prostitution.
BR: Prostitution is big in Ames though, so it's fitting.
TRDoD: Look at his hand. That's either hook 'em horns or he worships satan.
BR: Maybe he's just really into rocking out.
TRDoD: I was willing to accept that the chicken worships the dark lord of the underworld. Imagine if it was that that he wished for in return for his soul.
BR: As deals with the Devil go, that's pretty low. Even the guy in Oh God, You Devil did better. And he basically signed up to be Richard Marx.
TRDoD: He totally low balled himself when he could have become Rod Stewart or that guy in Roxette.
BR: Still, he got to deal with George Burns. I bet the Cock didn't get to do that.
TRDoD: Say goodnight Gracie.

His Story: Cock fighting is a deep-rooted tradition in South Carolina, dating back to colonial times. It is even rumored that the first Governor's race was settled by a cock fight. Between that tradition and the fact that cock fighting revenues paid for 60% of all construction at the University, it was an obvious choice.

7. Big Al the Elephant



BR: It's Santa Al, and he's back to molest the snow. This is a good introcution to the collective taste of Alabama fans.
TRDoD: The elephant is not a shocking mascot to choose. It's the pairing of it with their love of detergant and toilet paper.
BR: They are called the Crimson Tide, which isn't nearly as bad as Green Wave, because at least crimson is the color of blood, and a bloody tide washiing over you is scary. I assumed the elephant had something to do with their realignment with the GOP.
TRDoD: What the hell is going on in the gulf coast? Green waves, crimson tides. Does it get worse the closer you get to the Yucatan? Yellow riptide, fuscia foam.
How is he able to grasp the snowball with his elephant paw? If he was holding it like a waiter would a tray I could understand.
BR: I'm still trying to determine what he's doing with his trunk. Is he doing some snowblowing or snowsucking?
TRDoD: I think he's using it to contour the ear.
BR: Elephants are nature's artists.

His Story: Alabama chose the Elephant in honor of J.E.B. Stewart's famed crossing of the Ozarks with his elephant cavalry during the Civil War. This led directly to a lifting of the siege at Vicksburg, an act that prolonged the war and ensured that many more people would die.

6. Riptide the Pelican



BR: Nothing says Christmas like an angry pelican.
They're the Green Wave and they have a pelican. At least Miami had the good sense to choose an aquatic bird that nobody knows anything about to misrepresent their nickname. Also, Green Wave makes me think a river of slime has decided to crash on my shores. As team names go, River of Slime would have been a good choice for a college based in New Orleans.
TRDoD: He just seems too much like a mascot for a single A hockey team from Columbus, Georgia than an established college program. Or the spokesperson for a boating safety course.
BR: He's fighting mad about it too.
TRDoD: He looks more resentful and frustrated.
BR: "Fuck me! Tulane? Whatever."

His Story: In 1973 the Tulane Provost decided to get high and watch The Flintstones. A particularly witty quip from the pelican garbage can caused him to laugh until he threw up, and the next day he insisted the University adopt the animal as a mascot. The first incarnation, called Trashy, was more comical than angry.

5. Sycamore Sam the Fox



BR: It's like porn for people into furries.
TRDoD: The timeless art of seduction.
BR: With those bedroom eyes and that come hither smile, you know what he wants.
TRDoD: I thought a sycamore was a tree.
BR: The sycamore is indeed a tree. They chose a fox because foxes live in trees. Oddly, this is not the most bizarre tree to animal correlation.
There's so much blue in this picture it makes me question God.
TRDoD: Yet if you stare at him long enough you can see Jesus's eyes.
BR: And lo Jesus did say unto the masses, "Blessed are the foxes for they shall represent the trees."

His Story: In 1969, realizing that a tree would make a god awful mascot the athletic department pulled an all-nighter to come up with something. They were almost ready to choose an owl, because "Owls live in trees." when Foxy Lady came on the radio. Originally it was a sexy female fox called Mary Jane, but a 1971 lawsuit brought by "Concerned Christian Parents" forced a change to the less masturbation-worthy Sycamore Sam.

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion to the Top 8...

Friday, April 13, 2007

Once Upon a Time...

I decided to create a college football blog and invited my friend The Royal Dutch of Dukes (TRDoD) to contribute. That day was today, and this is that blog.

By way of introduction, we are two lads from Jacksonville. My family migrated here from that peachiest of states, Georgia, where my father developed an unhealthy love of the University of Georgia. TRDoD was born and raised here, the son of a second generation University of Florida grad. They say football is a religion in the south, and just like any good zealots our fathers indoctrinated us early. I even cried at the age of six after a Georgia loss in the '82 Sugar Bowl. Fuck Dan Marino. So we grew up to be adult fans of the two schools, TRDoD becoming a third generation graduate of the University of Florida, and I, eschewing class in favor of that wackiest of weeds (or anything else that seemed more interesting, like girls and sleep), failed to graduate from any of the schools I attended. This blog will serve the dual purpose of fulfilling our desire to write about something we love and hopefully entertain any readers we may attract. I hope you enjoy.

There are a few promises I would like to make to the readers:

We vow to mock any and all commentators as their inane, cliché spouting douchebaggery demands. This goes doubly for Brent Musburger.

We vow to talk about something other than Georgia and Florida. We may even on occasion stray outside the SEC to take a peek at lesser conferences.

We vow to never argue in favor of a playoff, because playoffs suck and college football should remain the uniquely beautiful snowflake it is.

We vow to remind everyone at least once a month that Nick Saban is an asshole.

We vow to post pictures of co-eds in various states of undress as often as possible.


We vow to make off the field antics a central theme during this boring off-season period.

We vow to talk only about college football unless we'd rather talk about something like the best energy/alcohol drink (It's still Sparks so far).

We vow to try to be funny most of the time. However, we won't be held accountable if we are not, because it's probably your fault for not getting the joke you humorless asshole.

Most imporantly, we vow to give 110% and do our part to help the team.