Actual tattoo of local musician/comedian Robby Roadsteamer. Check out his site.
I was a weird kid. I was reading the newspaper cover-to-cover at age 2. I ate nothing but Spaghetti-O's until the age of 4. I would to map out the exact sequence of famous wrestling matches against my teddy bears or pillows. I used to spend recess poring over the previous night's box scores rather than playing with my classmates. I was six feet tall in fifth grade. I broke four vertebrae in my back trying to recreate the X-Games on my bicycle at the age of 12.
But the weirdest thing about my childhood may be that my first love was not a girl, or a superhero, or a type of food, but rather a man in his mid-50s who wore a golf visor to work and lived 1,300 miles away.
Yes, somewhere in my childhood, I fell in kid-love (as opposed to gay man-love) with the Ol' Ball Coach himself, Steve Spurrier. I wasn't pushed towards my Spurrier love by any friends or family members (no one I knew had ever gone to UF), but this lack of connection made Spurrier and his Gators my team, and no one else's. Everything about Spurrier's teams appealed to me - they scored lots of points (teaching me to multiply by 7), they were cocky, they were athletic, and they played at this breakneck speed that was downright enthralling to a six-year-old with no attention span. Hell, even their uniforms were cool. And in classic wrestling heel fashion, Spurrier would say things like "Free Shoes University" or "you can't spell Citrus without UT," or call UGA coach Ray Goff "Ray Goof." Then he'd go out and beat the shit out of these teams on a regular basis.
Pretty soon, all my clothes came in some shade of orange or blue, I began taping any and all Gator games on TV, and my devotion to the OBC grew even more and more. I remember November 20, 1993, holding my 11th birthday at Bonkers in Peabody. While the rest of the assembled crowd had gathered around the TV to watch David Gordon's kick to lift BC over Notre Dame, I remember begging NBC to flash the Florida/Vanderbilt score (Gators won 52-0 btw and went on to win the Sugar Bowl that year). Some kids worshipped G.I. Joe or the New Kids on the Block or Superman, but my hero was Spurrier. When he delivered a national championship on January 2, 1996 (while I watched in my Danny Wuerffel jersey, to this day my favorite Christmas present EVER), it was the happiest moment of my childhood.
Sadly, Spurrier died in 2002. You won't find his obituary, and you may have heard of some erroneous reports involving a tenure coaching the Redskins or another coaching South Carolina, but take it from a huge Spurrier fan: the Ol' Ball Coach shuffled this mortal coil directly after leaving Gainesville in 2002. The horrible Spurrier impostor that has been posing as him since then has only been out to sully his name and ruin his legacy, like a bizarro version of that movie Dave, where Kevin Kline plays a presidential impersonator who actually becomes the president. If you wait ten minutes, that movie will be playing once again on TBS.
On Saturday, that Spurrier impersonator further embarrassed the great OBC legacy once again in a 56-6 loss to the Gators. His offense couldn't move the ball, his defense allowed Percy Harvin to run pretty much at will, and he constantly substituted quarterbacks with names like "Smelley." Simply put, I refuse to believe that the man standing on the South Carolina sidelines was my beloved Spurrier, despite their striking resemblance. The Steve Spurrier I knew would have put up a fight. This one didn't.
Onto the awards:
Hooters Real Fucking Deal Award - While most of you would expect me to mention Florida's blowout win this week, I'll instead take note of the Fightin' Utes of Utah, who beat Marshall Faulk's alma mater San Diego State 63-14. The Utes are now 11-0, and are winning their games by an average of 19.3 points per game. They're the best of the three remaining undefeated mid-majors, and will play a 10-1 BYU team this Saturday, with a possible BCS bowl bid at stake. By the way, if Florida/Georgia is The World's Biggest Outdoor Cocktail Party, is Utah/BYU the World's Biggest Outdoor Milk Party? Maybe some coeds will flash some ankle if their team wins.
Weylu's Epic Fail of the Week - It was a relatively upset-free week, but one of those few upsets warmed the collective cockles of many of the Mass Hysteria editors and readers: BC's 27-17 defeat of Florida State. HZMLS already touched upon this game from the BC perspective, but I'd just like to reitereate, from the point of view of someone who hates Florida State more than al Qaeda, that the Seminoles, despite their vast criminal records and inability to read, shit the bed against a Chris Crane-led squad. FSU "quarterback" Christian Ponder threw three picks, harkening back to the Drew Weatherford epoch. Former SuperTopMegaFiveStar Recruit Antone Smith ran for 19 yards on 10 carries, summarizing his entire collegiate career with one performance. I am absolutely giddy for this year's Florida/FSU game in two weeks. It'll put Schillinger's rape of Beecher on Oz to absolute shame.
Trader Joe's "What the Fuck Are They Doing Here?" Award - I know this award used to be named after Wild Oats, but I was even more surprised to see a Trader Joe's on Route 1, as Trader Joe's may be even more hipster-centric than Wild Oats. By the way, the Thai Chili Lime Cashews from Trader Joe's are downright fantastic. Aaaanyways, this award goes to Cincinnati, who has quietly crept its way to an 8-2 record and the driver's seat in the Big East. I had thought Cincy was fucked when Ben Mauk wasn't granted a Brian Toal Memorial 10th year of eligibility, but the Bearcats have beat South Florida and West Virginia in recent weeks, and a win over Pitt this weekend would almost ensure them a BCS bowl slot.
By the way, my favorite Cincinnati stat ever: Bob Huggins' graduation percentage while head basketball coach at Cincy: 0%. ZERO PERCENT. Not one of his players, be they superstars or the random white kid at the end of the bench, graduated on time. Oh Huggy Bear, we love you so.
Cabaret Lap Dance "Actually Pretty Boring When It Comes Down to It" Award - This award, named in honor of the surprising lack of joy that comes from a Peabody High dropout ramming you in the balls with her hips and knees to some shitty Marilyn Manson song goes to pretty much every Top-10 game this week. Texas blew out Kansas. Penn State handled Illinois. USC laid a whuppin on Stanford. There was nary an exciting game involving a top-level team in the bunch, and I'll even throw in the Florida/South Carolina game that still gave me about eight separate boners. Luckily, this week brings Texas Tech/Oklahoma, which should be more fun than a tape of Rocco Siffreddi's most degrading moments. Mike Leach and Bob Stoops, a nation turns its lonely eyes to you.
Frank Giuffrida Exalted Human Being Awards - This week's Awards go to Florida's Percy Harvin (I know, you're shocked) and Iowa's Shonn Greene. Harvin ran for 167 yards and two TDs on EIGHT carries, an average of 20.9 yards per carry. He's also faster than a Lynn Classical prom date. Greene, meanwhile, was more of the grind-it-out type, gaining his 211 yards on 30 carries. Greene leads the nation in rushing right now, and has topped 100 yards in every game. These two speedsters have earned the BBQ Turkey Tips, lean enough to maintain a low body fat percentage, served with grilled peppers and onions, along with two sides of their choosing.