Neuheisel May Abandon One Piece of Offensive Roadkill to Nurture Another

The brilliant gambling offensive mind that is Rick Neuheisel may be once again returning to the velvety throne of Pac-10 head coaching.

Wait, isn't he currently directing the offensive juggernaut that is the Bodymore Ravens? Shiiiyt, maybe UCLA athletic director Dan Guerrero thinks he is interviewing applicants for head soccer coach.

We do think, however, Neuheisel to the Bruins would make the Pac-10 the deepest it has been in quite some time. What we don't understand here is why UCLA alumni would want to bring in a guy who sucks all the hope and livelihood from March Madness pools every year. Neuheisel is so good he ought to pull a Rose and wager a few dimes on himself to win the damn things.

To play it a little safer this time though, Rick should probably stick with the acceptable currency in collegiate sports, that of course being the players. We admit we definitely would tune into a televised rendition of Neuheisel vs. Carroll blue-chip blackjack or recruiting roulette.

Just don't let Erickson creep into the casino. That ol' devil driver would have his pistol out and the game upgraded to the Russian version at the flick of a chip.

How 'Bout I Punchisize Your Face? For Free

Pay for a bag of chips? You fucking kidding me?

You think I came to a major football institution near a fucking swamp to pay for a gotdamn bag of chips?

Urban didn't say shit about paying for no fuckin' sea salt 'n vinegar, motha trucka.

What's that? Just a dollar? Yeah well I've got six and a half fucking sacks, boy. I'm third on the team with 62 tackles including 11 and a half for loss, son.

How 'bout you keep strokin' that Chia pet behind your fucking counter and be glad I'm eating my grinder in your gotdamn shop.

As soon as I get that seventh sack believe me, I'm out of this shit sauna. Mawfuckin' Jared has got a seven-up policy over there.

You want me to leave now? How 'bout I give you a fucking pastrami mustache. BAM. More? Here are some fuckin' styrofoam denchers you gotdamn toothless bogmongrel.

Go fuck a lillypad in the Everglades.

Shit, bro. Cops! Let's bolt back to the dorms.

Florida starter Cunningham arrested for food fight [Sports Illustrated]

Les Miles' Wolverine Press Conference Nov. 24, 2008

We need two particles to positively charge here in order to erect this Big Ten boner of a presser in '08: Miles to Michigan, which may already be in motion. And Miles to continue to be a moral victory master.

"This team has not lost a game not against Ohio State. I know it does not mean much to you guys (media). The point is, in a non-Buckeye game, we play as competitive as we can be. There is not a team in the Big Ten that we have played that has bested us besides the red sweater vest.

If you had to look at the length and width of the game, that is how it is measured. That is also how you determine whether it's a choad versus a dode.

Then you go to our rivalry game here against Ohio State, and I think our rivalry system is just as flawed as any other rivalry system. It's just the way it is and it is probably correct. You have to decide it then where it takes the ability to pound Northwestern and Minnesota out of it. It is imperfect, but a darn good system. You tell me if there are other teams in this country that can say that. If you just give us a tie against the Buckeyes, like in my wet dream system, we are undefeated with a tie. Maybe that adds up as a win over them."

Maybe coach. But until then, please don't ever change.

Les Miles: Really, When You Think About It, Aren't We ALL Winners? [Deadspin]
Michigan gets permission to talk to LSU's Miles [ESPN]

An Afternoon of Glorified Pop Warner

Evin "The Locomotive" Murphy finds time to belt out taint-tingling prose for LBMS from his real estate office in Santa Cruz, CA. Ed. Note: Loco is a recovering golden domeaholic.













"I looked the man in the eye… I was able to get a sense of his soul” -Bush on Putin

To test my thesis that James Clausen is the most overrated celeb since pop revolutionary Che “motorcycle diaries” Guevara, I traveled to Palo Alto to take in the Stanford V Notre Dame game Saturday.

Pretty simple back story on this clash of the kittens; both teams are awful, un-athletic and unable to recruit consistently because smart kids don’t play football, or football players aren’t smart…

I slept for twenty percent of the game, watched five percent and perved the stadium for ass during the remaining seventy-five.

Despite my best efforts to ignore anything happening on the field I had to notice Clausen making his QB decisions like a power-drunk fourteen year old in a backyard two-hand-touch melee grudge match. It looked like his brain had been outsourced to India, his synapses weren’t firing. Probably he was doped up on valium, vodka-grapefruit, and taquitos in proper OC style.

Decision-making highlights included: running out of bounds for a nine-yard loss instead of throwing the ball away, and throwing an interception to a defensive lineman while being wrapped up by a blitzing linebacker.

James ended the game by taking a knee, pretending like he was going to throw the ball into the air, then sprinting away from his team to dance, arms akimbo, towards the NBC cameras and some hand-slappin' fun with the 3-8 opposition. Candy-Ass Clausen has begun his reign of dumbness so take heed all ye who dare declare your golden domer loyalty. The eyes of this weird dumbo are filled with bleak narcissism. Grief will surely rest on those who him show favor.

Canton Calling

Saturday's "football game" at the Rose Bowl featured the best all-around quarterbacking performance to touch grass since Garo Yepremian's Super Bowl VII wizardry.

Kempt, Leaf, Roper, Olson, and Rasshan lit up the secondary to the tune of 15 for 56 passing, 169 yards, 0 touchdowns, 5 interceptions and 10 sacks.

Calling that aerial assault the Speed II: Cruise Control of gunslingage would be an insult to KeanO*.

Dennis Dixon would have accounted for more points playing in a casket, buried under the turf.

At least for the fans' retinas sake, the Ducks weren't wearing their crossing guard vests.

*Oh wow that's right, even Johnny Utah was too good for that naughty nautical narrative.

The Jimmy Clausen Story

Evin "The Locomotive" Murphy finds time to belt out taint-tingling prose for LBMS from his real estate office in Santa Cruz, CA. In this edition, The Loco chainsaws through the curtains of JC's future, and the results unveiled... sound about right.

College washout turned “Surreal Life” cast member, Jimmy “James” Clausen expounds on his oft-questioned, shifting moral philosophy and world view. Sporting heavy, black eye liner, a shaved head, a Scott Spezio-style goatee and some gothic arm tats, young James begins:

“I never wanted to play football anyway. Yeah *tear*. I did it because I thought it would make my dad love me.

I’ll never play again. James Clausen is a grown-ass man and he does as he pleases. So motherfuckers better start to recognize and respect that.

You know, everyone always told me how I was supposed to act. I was the All-American QB with the girls, the cars, the frosty tips. It wasn’t me, nah man. I’m hard. I’m hard as nails. Like Marilyn fucking Manson. That cat digs it. He gets the times man, modern times. Billy Corgan? Another of my idols. Melancholy man, that’s real. That’s feelings.

Yeah, you know, I just don’t care about the pigskin anymore. I’m more into transcendental meditation. I pray to the moon. Touchdown Jesus? Not for me dog, not for me. I don’t believe any man is holier than the next.

Now the moon, the moon controls the tides, the calendar, the nature cycles, all that shit. *shuffles in seat* And you know what? The moon doesn’t have a bitch. Nah, that’s why I gave up women. Does the moon have a lover? No, that’s because the moon loves itself. Self love, that’s what keeps it spinning man, like me. I just want to keep spinning, watching the world turn, dancing with the sun, sleeping with the stars. You know. I’m a star and, like, mad women want to sleep with me but I just say ‘nah, bounce that’ I got bigger things to connect with than a loosey goosey slouteger. Feel that! I’m telling you. Music… my shakra, that’s how I keep that shit regulated. Manson… outside, at night, under the moon, by myself… that’s when I really feel it, you know? The James Clausen vibe, life’s equilibrium.

No more frosted tips for me. Nah, that was Jimmy, this is James. Some people, they think I’ve lost it. They say 'James, what the fuck is wrong with you? You had it all: the arm, the girls, the scholarship, the frosty tips! Why did you throw it all away, man, to listen to some fag with titites? What the fuck is wrong with you?' But, they just don’t get it man. They don’t get young James Clausen.

I saw this Navajo sage… up at the Pikoni Casino. He told me he saw into my heart… saw my identity, the “young ghost dog.” You know and maybe one day I’ll be, like, an older ghost dog, or like the fucking Moon dog, you know? ‘Cause that’s what I really want to be. The Fucking Moon Dog! BOW WOW WOW mother fuckers! But you know, until then I’ll just be spreading my message. Spreading the truth. That’s right America, truth is about to be coming into your living room. Gear up soldiers. Gear up.”

The End

Ebert & Roeper Give It 'Two Sausage Thumbs Up'

FROM THE PRODUCERS THAT BROUGHT YOU SCREAMING AT HIGH SCHOOL REFS AND SPITTING AT HOT DOGS COMES A FILM INSPIRED BY RECE DAVIS' "THE VELVET FOG" MANGINO REFERENCE

An island off the Kansas City streets is the setting for this salty yarn of ghosts, lepers, pigskin, vengeance, and maple bar angst. A fog-enshrouded schooner (Mark Mangino) from 1956 returns from the bottom of Youngstown State to wreak vengeance on the buffet tables of the Big-12, and it's up to Missouri QB Chase Daniel (Selma Blair), her charter-boat-captain lover, Gary Pinkel (Tom Welling, from TV's SMALLVILLE), and his wayward girlfriend, Quinn Snyder (Maggie Grace, from TV's LOST), to slay the unbeaten. All three are related to the town's founding fathers, with whom the Jayhawk ghosts have an ancient score to settle. What that score is no one seems to know, but they need to find out, fast.

Tony Temple (TAILBACK) provides cutback relief as Chase's lusty first mate, but the real scene stealer here is the fog itself, which is much more robust than in the 1980 John Carpenter original. Thanks to some nice Cheese Steak work, it slithers in, around, and under everything. Though gussied up with BCS implications and corn-fed young players, THE FOG is, at heart, a good old fashioned football game, replete with uniforms and intra-conference romance. Commissioner Kevin Weiberg (BIG TWELVE) is good at capturing little details like the eerie tinkling of ranch dressing dripping to the floorboards, the textures of moisture-beaded gullet, and the perfectly toned mustache of lead actor Mangino as he wanders around in his velour tracksuit. On Nov. 24, THE FOG oozes into Arrowhead.

(Film synopsis edited from Rotten Tomatoes)

Astronomists Advise to Drink Moonshine to Tolerate Moon's Shine

Remember when Phil Knight, Nike co-founder/Oregon megabooster, wasted money on this in 2001? Well now that his alma mater actually has a legit Heisman candidate in Dennis Dixon, we're told that the publicity paid for by the billionaire is set to reach a luna-crous new level.

That's right, Knight is putting the Dix on the moon motherfuckers. For the next two months we will be circumgyrated by a 6'4'', 200 lb spread-option hurler. Those bitches Selene and Luna have been bounced, and the Dix is your new orbiting overlord. Your new night light? A neon number 10. Your old hopes and dreams? Shattered. All you will think of now is the Dix walking down that blue-velvet aisle in the Downtown Athletic Club, claiming what's rightfully his. Tebow for Heisman you say? We don't see him in the sky, singing children sweet dreams fairytales and slinging pigskin at teenagers on Lookout Point.

We are entering a new era. Our thoughts have been implanted. Our natural satellite now has steel tread shoulderpads. Our eyes are burning worse than when the Kenny Rogers' Roasters sign was shining. Quaaaaack.

Lateralus

Holy balls! Not much we can say to lead into this one. Just another hot potato trick with some D-III magic-dust sprinkling. You're gonna need to take off your shoes to be able to count the times the ball changes hands.
Thanks to Unsilent Majority at deadspin for pointing out this gem.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Charlie Weis!

You thought Charlie Weis' pep rally speech before the USC game was laced with sarcasm? That it was Nick Cannon-hilaaaarious? No, Charlie is just a very honest man. Paraphrased:

"We're 1-6 and USC has only one loss. We can't score any points on offense. Our defense is okay, our special teams is okay...I told the team at our hotel last night to take a vote to see if we should even show up Saturday."

Well... next time coach, make sure to count the votes. Recount. Then if it comes out in favor of your boyz taking the field: vote again, this time making it anonymous. That should keep your "squad" from having to go out and embarrass the echo-wakening university.

Really though, you don't need to care. You're signed through eternity. And today, you did have a legitimate excuse for losing. When your team dresses in mustard-stained pants, naturally you're thinking hot dogs down the gullet, not passing down the field.

If you do decide to recondsider this whole head coaching thing, we're sure your career as a stand-up comedian would be man-titillating. You've already proven with your above mentioned pep rally performance that you have the dry observational-humor skills of a Jerry Seinfeld after finding out his Porsche parking garage has burned down.

"Thank you, thank you very much for coming. It was a long flight out here, boy are my arms tired...from eating all that fried chicken on the plane. Say, what's the deal with all those dead people in Darfur?"

What is this, Amateur Hour?!

Vacuous musings from Saturday's (and Friday's) NCAA football action around the country.













♠ Nice work Cal. Way to goatfuck the chance to be on top of a fly-dropping Top 10. It's tough to get too upset at young Kevin Riley for sabotaging the game though*. He probably heard beavers and point shaving and assumed he was in for a more pleasurable night. Better head to Tightwad Hill Kev, maybe Tedford's got a freshly packed bowl on a 6-footer for you to hit.

♠ We may be a little Pac-10 biased over here but wow, the SEC just does not relent. Another masterpiece of a game out there in Lexington as the Wildcats took out top-ranked LSU. Our minds aren't boggled that Lester decided to run the ball four straight times in that third OT. They're boggled that Hammerin' Hester didn't tote it on fourth down. Congrats UK, hopefully Kige Ramsey didn't impregnate any nice Kentucky girls in a celebratory stupor. "I believe I will name the boy Kige Woodson. My name is Kige and Woodson is the last name of my favorite UK player. I don't believe that abortion is right. This is Kige Ramsey for YouTube Moral Issues."

♠ 2006 Heisman hopeful Colt Brennan proved to be a real communist in Hawaii's overtime comeback win over woeful San Jose State Friday night. The shielded slinger threw as many touchdowns to rainbow warriors as he did interceptions to Spartacus. We're not advocating a BCS bowl for the islanders per se, but if this fucking bullshit keeps up...uhh, well they may be taking on Montana in the big easy come January.

*Riley was actually very impressive for 59:40+ minutes of the game.

"I drove my car into a fucking lake!"

Another doozy of a college football Saturday which saw the No. 2 Prophylactics get torn by a thick gob of Stanford tree sap; an SEC poontastic battle in Lewsyanna; and coach Mike Gundy picking up a weekday gig.

First off, a truly jawesome job of preparation by coach Michael Scott and his Dunder-Mifflin Trojans against Harbaugh and the Red Forest:

Monday's (Oct. 1) team meeting: "Men, [Stanford's] starting a quarterback with 3 career pass attempts. And they've been pearl necklaced by everyone they've faced this year. Go ahead and spend the week with your heads in the sand and just try to show up Saturday sober enough to at least wobbel out of the tunnel. But I mean the game is on that hockey channel so it's certainly not imperative for appearance's sake. Ya know I'll tell you what, just try to lay off the moonshine pregame. Ok thanks I need to go meet Will Ferrell to practice our synchroswim routine. See you at the Rose Bowl, lol oops I mean the Coliseum!"

As for the real game on Saturday night, three words were the difference in the LSU win: Jacob Fucking Hester. If you need 50 inches on 4th down against an 11-man front, he'll move the chains. If there is a jailbreak to the backfield and he is arm-wrapped at the waist and the legs, he'll break through and move the chains. If a linebacker has a hole plugged, he'll split their helmet in pieces and move the chains. If you need a tool to demolish a large building in a matter of minutes, he'll gladly be at your service. And then he will once more move the chains.

A Fairytale of a Swap

What if Heisman voting worked the same way the AP polls did? You beat us, you leapfrog us*. If so, then the long-lost eighth dwarve, after his superb night at the helm against Kentucky, would now be at the top of the list in the race for that highly coveted stiff-arming piece of brass.

Indeed, 'Cock freshman QB Chris Smelley outperformed Heisman front-runner Andre' Woodson of the Wildcats in the USC victory Thursday. And hey, since Disney has a hyper-vested interest in college football, maybe the megalomediamachine that is espin will get their hyping gears in motion for a Smelley 4 Heisman campaign! They can even parlay it into a movie!!

Think of all the cash Disney would rake in for a Snow White and the Eight Dwarves! Walt's Co. could even score extra cool points for adding one to the number of the original title. This particular concept is always a gonad-smashing success in Hollywood. Ocean's 12, Ocean's 13, uhh... 3 Fast 3 Furious!

Seriously though, Woodson is now out of the Heisman race right? Aren't duds on national TV supposed to be daggers? Or is it ok since everyone was watching the baseball game instead? Granted, the ol' ball coach's defensive coordinator Tyrone Nix had a hell of a game plan, but did you see Woodson miss that wide open receiver by 10 yards early on? Heisman voters saw that right? Barring absolute skull-fucking performances against LSU and Florida, Woody will just be a flamboyant suit-wearing, fake-smiling, clapper at the Downtown Athletic Club this year to be sure.

But UK fans, it's ok. We GAIR AND TEE Woodson will have a better NFL career than Tim Couch. Moral Vs baby, moral Vs.

*Unless it's App. State

A 96-Hour Boner

The most exciting NL pennant races in recent memory. The best football game ever played on a Friday^. A blitzkriegingly beautiful Saturday matchup featuring two top 10* teams. Hockey pops its head back out, in England. NFL SUNDAY!! And then a delectable tiramisu on MNF. Wow, a truly blissful weekend of sporting activity on the horizon.

Actually not on the horizon. It's here! It began when Daffy Holtz gave us and the Bulls our weekly pep talk. Where we not only learned about bumblebee aeronautics, but also that sex and violence on our VCR makes us hypocrites! In case you need extra incentive to watch this ballgame, check out the speedy little bugger, Noel DIVINE's, high-light reel (extra impressive considering his high-school home field doubled as a dirt parking lot). Oh yeah, and he's just a back-up.

As Deadspin pointed out, the Rockies do need a fight song as they continue to suck the mile-high air from their opponents' soul cavities. As for the porn-mustachioed-led Mets? Lawl. Try removing track 14 from your clubhouse boombox, bro.

Enjoy the festivities everyone. If for whatever reason you start to lose wood Monday afternoon before the Pats-Bengals offensive shitshow ...well... better to keep it sporting-related. Contact your doctor if erection lasts past the two-minute warning of the MNF game.

^At LBMS, we of course measure the quality of game by the turnover total (double digits baby!!)
*Fuck off, Ruckgers