Unless you’ve been living in a spacious alcove without wifi for the past year, you’ve probably been as jacked up about Fuller House as I have been. It had been far too long since the Tanner family has taught me new life lessons. Thanks to the brilliant folks at Netflix, we are once again wondering “whatever happened to predictability…”
It's that wonderful time of the year when footballs are in the air, Oktoberfests are in the hand, and deli meats are in the other hand. Normally I try to inject some humor to these posts, but this is going to be of the slow burn variety. In other words, check back in December when all my predictions look ridiculous.
Am I Doing This To Jinx the SEC?
9-4 with losses to Ohio State, Michigan State, Northwestern, and San Diego State
Gator Bowl win over Arkansas
Am I Predicting This To Reverse-Jinx Us Into a Better Record?
Overrated teams (besides the entire SEC)
Baylor will have 3 or more regular season losses
Stanford will finish 7-5
As will Wisconsin
ESPN falls over itself talking up a 2-loss SEC West team.
The Pac 12 South will be a better division than the SEC West, but no one will hear anyone say it on tv.
Tennessee gets its 38th verbal before October 1st
Brian Kelly continues to get away with murdering a kid.
Cody Kessler throws for 400 yards on Tom Bradley’s defense.
It’s truly sad when you play a team that is so lousy, so irrelevant, that you can’t even muster hatred. That’s right, the Temple Owls have single-handedly sapped me of all my usual opening game enthusiasm. There is one thing that is worse than HATE, and that’s APATHY.
As a kid, the calendar flipping to August meant: “Oh no! Summer vacation is almost over!” As a college student, the calendar flipping to August meant: “Sweet! I get to go back to school soon!” As a working adult, the calendar flipping to August initially meant: “Damn! I wish I was going back to school soon!” Now, it means one thing: football dreams.
Since I only dusted off the ol Doghouse a few weeks ago, I’ve already missed a few football dreams. Last night’s was zany enough to prompt me to post start posting them.
Main characters: Me, my dad, @JSchnauzer, @psuBarton
Setting: Baton Rouge, LA
I am thrust into a situation where I have to get my picks in to a tv host who is at the LSU-BYU game in Tiger Stadium. Complicating matters is the knowledge that the Penn State game is on shortly. My father and I pull up to LSU’s campus and it’s a ghost town. We follow “Football traffic” signs to a patch of land overlooking an enormous natural amphitheater. Immediately, I see the guy I need to submit my picks to, but he is very far away. As we get to the edge of the bluff, we pay $1 each to rent inflatable alligators to slide down the hillside. At the bottom, the tv host runs over to me. “Great news! They’re showing the Penn State game inside the stadium. Here are your tickets; you’re all set.”
Just as my father and I get inside Tiger Stadium, I get a text from @Jschnauzer. It says: “You have got to see The Chocolate Room here. It’s incredible.” We weaved through the people as though we knew exactly where to go. As we stood underneath an arch, @Jschnauzer and @psuBarton waved us over to where they were standing. “Look at that!” @psuBarton exclaimed. They pointed to their right. Behind a glass wall, there were several people making various forms of chocolate. The one they pointed out was feeding ingredients into a massive hand cranked device. The device itself was shaped like a football lineman in a 3-point stance. It was wearing a Florida Gators uniform. As the guy turned the crank, nonpareils emerged from the ass of the UF lineman. They had purple and gold sprinkles on them. The next guy on the assembly line put a handful into a box which was then labeled, “Everyone has a little Tiger in them.”
Then I woke up.
After a little hiatus, the All-Runco Team finally makes its triumphant return. As a reminder, the All-Runco honor is bestowed upon those individuals who have been in college forever. It is without a note of pomp and circumstance that I congratulate the following players whose true talent lies not in evading defenders on the gridiron, but sheepskin on the stage.
While the blog sat silent for nearly two years, we’ve amassed a tremendous amount of hatred. It’s really not healthy to let that fester in one’s system, so we thought it would be a good idea to finally let it out.
This only represents the teams that we hate the most in college football. Think of it as a handy guide for the upcoming season. Perhaps the noon slate of games looks like a dud one particular Saturday. No worries. Just pull up this poll and hop aboard our bandwagon of hate. Soon you’ll be old and bitter just like us!
1. Notre Dame
Always and forever
You counted right. (No one hates Vanderbilt)
15. Ohio State
Combine the arrogance of Michigan and the scruples of an SEC team and you have the Buckeyes
Put it this way, if something makes Jim Delany happy, we hate it
Get off our damn schedule!!!
18. Florida State
Aside from beating Florida, there is no reason to like this band of gangsters
19. Miami (FL)
Dennis Erickscum and his band of undisciplined thugs cost us a national championship with their piss-poor conditioning in the 1995 Orange Bowl
A mainstay in this poll as long as that miserable puke Tim Beckman is still their coach
Those annual Iowa State losses really help the B1G’s perception…
22. Syracuse, West Virginia, Pitt, Boston College, Virginia (tie)
As long as these boring teams exist, our out-of-conference schedule will continue to be pathetic
Still shaking our heads over Christian Wilkins
They’re to thank for the wave of hideous uniforms sullying this once tradition-friendly sport.
Pick up the damn phone and offer us a 3-for-1 so we can travel to the Kibbie Dome!!!
If you’re in the mood to get sick to your stomach, I recommend googling other teams’ upcoming non-conference schedules.
Much like instant replay, soccer, and Pirates first basemen, the topic of non-conference scheduling really riles me up. In the words of Dennis Miller, “I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but…”
Jim Delany sparked a lot of internet chatter at the B1G Media Days with his announcement of a mandatory out-of-conference scheduling pattern for every team to follow. Once the 9-game league schedule kicks in next year, teams will be required to play at least one Power 5 opponent and zero FCS opponents in their non-conference slate. Although I dislike the scheduling difficulties that accompany 9 conference games, I applaud the commissioner for the P5 requirement. However, I do not applaud those who wish to squander our annual opportunity for fun.
It was a disaster of a weekend for the Big Ten. Ohio State lost at home to Virginia Tech, Michigan State left Oregon with an embarrassing scoreline, and Michigan had their first shutout loss since Billy Ocean's "Caribbean Queen" topped the charts. Purdue and Northwestern lost to their MAC-rifices, while Iowa, Illinois, and Nebraska eked out wins of dubious quality. There has been a lot of collective hand-wringing and worry that the Big Ten is a step behind the rest of the conferences, and that it may not have a representative in the season-ending Big Ten Playoff.
The emerging “pro-conference” boosterism is puzzling. On a personal level I have always been reluctant to get into the collective support of fellow members of the conference. I delight in watching teams like Michigan and Ohio State falter on the brightest stages. It may be different in the SEC, but my rival is my rival 365 days a year in the Big Ten.
The narrative that “we need our conference to be strong so our strength-of-schedule looks awesome!” is weak. For one, the days of computer polls are over. Secondly, if you are undefeated in a Power Conference you will go the postseason playoff. End of discussion. You only need to look at Florida State for years in the ACC to know this is true. If you are 11-1 and leaning on opposing strength of schedule to get you into a big game, you are looking for technicalities when your team should have taken care of business out on the field.
Another reason for this delight in collective misery runs deeper than rivalry. Big Ten schools, as a conference of equals, have done nothing to assist or promote Penn State in its efforts to emerge from the disasters of 2012.