I’ve been a part of the Foxsports.com blogging community for about two years now. In that time, I’ve made some good friends. Lisa, Marty, Pete_Nice, KSP, Hoit, Tophatal and Bluegrass have all befriended me and stimulated some good conversation, not only about sports and about life in general.
Despite discussions and best laid plans, rarely do we get the chance to actually meet our blog-rades in person.
Well, my friends, that’s about to change this weekend as everyone’s favorite New Orleans native, GambitXXX, rolls into town.
Extra large bottle of Jack Daniels? Check.
Flu shot? Check.
Les Miles voodoo doll complete with pins? Check.
I confirmed with Gambit today that he’ll be rolling into town on his trolley car Friday just in time for happy hour. In much the same way that LSU defensive tackle Ricky Jean-Francois vowed to take Tim Tebow out of the game, Gambit has assured me the whiskey-infused weekend would start immediately upon his arrival and continue New Orleans style through Sunday. Both Timmy T and I will assuredly use these threats (promises) as inspirational bulletin board material.
When I asked Gambit if he wanted to get inside Florida Field to see the game, he quickly responded in his Cajun tone “Duuude, I been to the Swamp. Just find me a bar to watch the game.” A man after my own heart. Unbeknownst to him, I have just the place in mind: the dive bar formerly known as the Purple Porpoise, somewhat appropriate as I’m sure Gambino will be wearing his finest purple and gold. Someone alert the co-eds.
So, blogosphere, stay tuned as I’m sure you’ll be hearing about the hazy, smoke-filled, alcohol-drenched weekend that was… as soon as Gambit and I have recovered enough to put it down on paper. Well, at least you’ll hear the PG-13 rated version. And yes, jail cells will be avoided at all costs.
The following article will be published in the November issue of Campus Talk, a magazine distributed in Tampa, Orlando, Gainesville and Tallahassee. If you're a local, pick one up and increase their circulation. They also have lots of pictures of pretty girls for extra motivation.
I was sitting at a local Campus Talk-approved watering hole when the gentleman beside me started going on and on about his fantasy football team. Like I had nothing else better to do than listen to him discuss how he drafted the Redskins defense in the 7th round.
For those of you still unfamiliar with Fantasy Football… welcome to planet earth. Sports fans, mostly men who think they are capable of running a professional sports franchise, gather once a year to draft football players at each position and field their own team. Normally wings, beer and bad jokes are served, while guys who are too short, too slow and too uncoordinated to play the game, draft players they think will garner them enough yards, receptions and touchdowns to crown them Fantasy Football king.
Now, if this guy annoyed me, a football fan, after only a few brief minutes of hearing him talk about his third string wide receiver, it got me thinking how the wives, women and girlfriends of millions of men around the country cope with these very same conversations.
So, for those girlfriends out there who have had enough of their man’s childhood fixation with running his own rotisserie team, we’ve come up with some valuable advice to help you make it through the season with a smile.
Go Shopping: If your man zones out on Sundays, take his credit card and run to the mall for your own fantasy spree. If he’s in a league where he gets paid out for success, tell him you were so confident in his ability to draft a winning team, that you were just celebrating his impending victory by buying yourself something nice.
Curb the Talk: The last thing your man wants to hear is who was on Oprah this week. Similarly, the last thing you want to hear is how many points Adrian Peterson earned him in Week Five. Make sure he understands there’s a time and a place for such talk, and that’s away from you and with his friends.
Host Your Own Fantasy Party: When your man gathers with his friends to argue whether Peyton or Eli Manning brings greater value, get your girls together for a sex toy or lingerie party. Remind him that he’s not invited. It’ll distract him from his football by wondering what you and your twelve hottest friends could possibly be doing with lace, lotion and a handful of batteries. Now tell me which fantasy he’d rather be involved in.
The Player Cuteness Factor: Careful with this technique for it could send your man into a jealous frenzy. If he drafted Tom Brady or Reggie Bush, sit there with him as he’s checking their stats and tell him how cute the players look in their tight uniforms. Again, this might warrant anger or even worse a hidden man-crush, so use this method only if you’re prepared for the consequences.
Walk Around Naked: If this tried and true technique doesn’t distract your man away his fantasy team, then it’s time to find a new man for his priorities are clearly out of whack. Yes, ladies, football is important to us, but remind your man to keep things in perspective. If skimpy lingerie isn’t more titillating than a Brett Favre six touchdown game, then it might be time to check your man into fantasy football rehab.
If You Can’t Beat ‘Em, Join ‘Em: Plenty of women have now joined fantasy football leagues. However, if you’re not a football fan, grab some friends and create a fantasy league of your own. Base it on Dancing with the Stars, Desperate Housewives or Sex and the City reruns. Host a draft party and invite your friends over for wine and cheese. Be sure to belch repeatedly for effect if your man happens to be in attendance. You can allot league points for how many times the Housewives bag either a lawn boy, neighbor or someone else’s husband. Or better yet, join his fantasy league and beat the tar out of him and his friends. Then talk smack about how little he knows about sports.
I got a call yesterday from an old friend who was in a bind. He currently lives out west, but used to work with me here in Gainesville back in the day. He called to tell me that he recently tried to renew his drivers license, but was flagged for failure to pay child support, even though he hasn’t legally been required to pay it for years. His kid’s all grown up. Glitch in the system.
Anyway, as he’s in Irvine, California, home of the Anteaters, and I’m in Gainesville, home of the one-loss Florida Gators, he needed someone to run to a local Department of Motor Vehicles - everybody’s favorite place to visit - and pay a $47.50 fine for him so that he could reinstate his license. Clearly a pain in the rear, but as I had nothing to do this afternoon but pretend the Florida-Ole Miss game never happened, I figured what the heck. A friend in need is a friend DMV’ed.
So I’m at the DMV, waiting the obligatory forty-five minutes to an hour before my number is called, when suddenly a great looking, blonde-haired, blue-eyed college girl walks into the place to renew her license. Keep in mind, this is Gainesville, Florida; such sights are not uncommon. Contrary to popular belief, girls DO in fact grow on trees here. Or at least they arrive by the boatload every semester.
Upon viewing said college girl, the middle-aged gentleman behind the counter, who had taken his good old time coming back from his break, acted as if he had never seen a female before, or if he had, it had been a very long time. His trainee, maybe in his mid-twenties and not totally un-presentable, stood there staring, tongue hanging well out of his mouth. I kept wanting to tell the guy to blink and snap out of it. The senior employee, in all likelihood older than this girl’s father, looked a lot like J.K. Simmons, best known for his role of J Jonah Jameson in the Spiderman movies. Trust me, this girl was out of Tobey Maguire’s league, so there was no way Jonah was getting a piece. The only way, shape or form a girl of this stature would ever even entertain the idea of talking to a guy like this would be… if he worked at the DMV and she needed to renew her license. I mean, it’s not like he’s Houston Nutt who can apparently do anything he wants to in Gainesville these days.
Jonah soon started to pour on the DMV charm sickeningly thick, as if to say to his trainee, “Look, bra, I got this,” all the while wearing his wedding ring. He commented on her smile as he took her drivers license photo and continued to drop other borderline inappropriate comments in a what I thought was supposed to be a professional setting. Guess not. It wasn’t an Isiah Thomas sexual harassment suit, but it wasn’t far from it. I was partially intrigued to hear what bile he could muster up next, much like being unable to turn my head from a train wreck or an 86-yard Shay Hodge pass play that got away. He continued on, keeping her at his counter as long as he could without starting a riot inside the DMV. Ah…. the DMV, a constant source of entertainment, although probably not what Terrell Owens meant when he told us to get our popcorn ready.
When my number was finally called an eternity later, I got up to the counter and you’ll never guess what happened... the woman behind the counter started flirting with ME!! I thought to myself, what is this… the most undersexed group of civil servants ever assembled? Imagine the house parties these guys must have. Are they not getting enough at home? Should I have brought lotions? I half expected them to dim the lights, throw on a strobe and start spinning some Barry White. I didn’t realize condoms were now a requirement for the random DMV visit.
Look, I’m no hater, unless of course we’re talking about the decision to give the ball to your QB seven yards behind the line of scrimmage when you only need one. Come on to whomever you want to as long as I don’t have to be subjected to it for hours. Watching this guy in action was more painful than watching another missed Gator extra point. I understand that the benefits of working at the DMV are few and far between. It’s not like they get free points on their licenses for being faithful employees. I don’t fault the guy for being flirtatious with a young college girl, but not if it’s going to come at the expense of everyone else sitting there waiting to take care of their business. Keep it professional. After all, any impending sexual harassment charge just means one less person at the counter and longer lines at the DMV.
The following article will be published in the September issue of Campus Talk, a magazine distributed in Tampa, Orlando, Gainesville and Tallahassee. If you're a local, pick one up and increase their circulation. They also have lots of pictures of pretty girls for extra motivation.
October means pennant races are in full swing. With playoff positions now set, we at Campus Talk thought we’d celebrate some of baseball’s more memorable post-season moments.
1932 – While many view the modern athlete as arrogant, Babe Ruth may have actually invented athletic braggadocio. Baseball had never seen anything like Ruth. He shattered nearly every record the game had ever known. In the third game of the ’32 Series, Ruth allegedly ‘called his shot’ by pointing to the centerfield bleachers. The very next pitch he slugged clean over the centerfield fence.
1951 – Back when the Giants played in New York and the Dodgers were still in Brooklyn, Bobby Thomson hit a Ralph Branca pitch over the Polo Grounds fences to give the Giants the National League pennant. Referred to as ‘The Shot Hit Round The World,’ Thomson’s home run propelled the Giants into the ’51 Series, which they would lose to Yankees.
1954 –With men on first and second, a deep Vic Wertz fly ball looked to give the Indians the lead. That was until Willie Mays’ jaw-dropping, over-the-shoulder catch quelled the run, giving the Giants the momentum they would need to sweep the Indians and cement Mays’ place in history.
1956 - In 1956, Don Larsen established a feat that has yet to be duplicated. In Game Five against the Brooklyn Dodgers, Larsen pitched a perfect game, retiring all 27 Dodgers on less than 100 pitches. The Yankees won that Series in seven.
1960 - In 1960, Pittsburgh Pirate Bill Mazeroski hit what remains to this day, the only Game Seven, walk-off home run in World Series history. Although an outstanding defensive infielder, it is this one hit for which he is most famous.
1975 – In the 12th inning of Game Six, Carlton Fisk hit one of the most memorable home runs in post-season history. Fisk’s left-field blast off Reds reliever Pat Darcy bounced off the foul pole, thanks to a little body English from Fisk, to force a Game Seven, which the Sox would eventually lose.
1977 – To the echoes of over 50,000 rabid Yankee fans, Reggie Jackson earned his nickname Mr. October by hammering three home runs in a single Game Six to give the Yankees another World Series victory and a candy bar aptly named after the man himself.
1986 – As if Red Sox fans hadn’t suffered enough, Bill Buckner’s gaffe is another image ingrained in baseball history. With a two out, two run, one game lead, Boston seemed poised to remove the Curse of the Bambino, until Mookie Wilson’s grounder dribbled between Buckner’s legs, giving the Mets the victory and chance to play Game Seven which they ultimately won.
1988 - In a late-game pinch-hit situation, Tommy Lasorda inserted a gimpy Kirk Gibson into the lineup to face the untouchable Dennis Eckersley. With two outs in the ninth, Gibson took a 3-2 slider over the right field fence. As announcer Jack Buck shouted “I don’t believe what I just saw,” Gibson limped around the bases, pumping his fists. The Dodgers won that Series in five games.
1991 – In ’91, the Atlanta Braves and Minnesota Twins played one of the most competitive World Series ever. Five of the seven games were decided by only one run. In a series where Kirby Puckett etched his name into Minnesota sports lore, it was Jack Morris who pitched a Game Seven, ten-inning shutout to defeat Atlanta and end a series for the ages.
1994 – Perhaps the greatest sports trivia question is who won the 1994 World Series? The answer? No one. In 1994, Commissioner Bud Selig cancelled the World Series as a result of the player strike. In a year when Tony Gwynn flirted with batting .400, Matt Williams challenged the home run record and the Montreal Expos were the best team in baseball, the World Series was canceled in what is still considered a major black eye for the sport.
1993 – In Game Six, Joe Carter took a Mitch Williams pitch deep to left-field to give the Toronto Blue Jays their second consecutive World Series. After giving up that pitch, Williams, one of baseball’s most dominant relievers, would never be the same.
2004 – In 2004, after eighty years of suffering, Red Sox fans finally got their just due. Often considered the greatest choke in sports history, the Yankees coughed up a three games to none lead give the Red Sox the American League pennant. Boston then swept the Cardinals to win their first World Series title since 1918.
The Daytona Beach Kennel Club and Poker Room recently built a brand new structure just down the road from the old one. Gone is the old school track and seedy poker room. The new and improved complex now sits at the intersection of I-95 and I-4 and features more tables, a cleaner card room, a much nicer dog track, more simulcast screens and a considerably nicer bar and dining area.
On a recent trip to Daytona, I had some time to kill so I figured I’d pay the new poker room a visit, check out the surroundings and hopefully take down a big pot or two in the process. I’ve been having significantly better results at cash games than tournaments lately, so I opted for the $1-$2 no limit table. Besides, the only sit-n-go they offered at the time was a $120 buy-in, six person tournament with prize money for first place only. Not exactly the odds I was looking for.
I sat down at Table 3 where eight other players had already gathered with the largest stack to my immediate right. After watching a couple of hands, no player seemed über-aggressive, although it was still way too early to get a definitive read on anybody.
About six hands in, I became the small blind. Five players ahead of me called. Since the person to my left hadn’t made a move since I took my seat, I guessed he likely wouldn’t raise from the big blind. For an extra dollar, I saw the flop with a J-5 off suit, a hand I obviously wouldn’t play otherwise.
Now here comes the tricky part.
The flop came J-8-5 with two of the cards being clubs. As I was in the small blind and first to act, I fired away with what I felt was a reasonable value bet: six dollars. I didn’t necessarily want to take down the pot right there, I just wanted to know what I was up against. Someone sitting on two clubs was likely to chase the flush, but probably not re-raise. And although two pair was a nice flop in that situation, it was still vulnerable to several hands, including an AJ, KJ, or Q-J if any one of those higher cards hit on fourth street or the river. Two players behind me called with neither raising. With this information, I put one of my opponents on top pair (or possibly a straight draw since I had one of the Jacks) and assumed the other one was waiting out the flush.
The next card was a three of clubs, so whoever was waiting on that club flush had my two pair dominated. To see which of them had made their flush, I put out another, minimal six dollar bet. The next bettor re-raised to fifteen dollars. The third player folded, leaving only me in the hand to call the nine dollar raise. It was a minimal raise so I figured the bettor had either made his flush, but a small one, or was bluffing to see if I had it.
I absolutely live for these hands, particularly when they’re misplayed by my opponent. For another nine dollars, I had one more cheap opportunity to pair either one of my two cards and sink him with a full house. Needless to say, I called.
The river brought another Jack, giving me my boat. I did my best to keep a stoic poker face. I had him crushed. Having only recently sat down at the table, I unfortunately hadn’t seen enough of this player to know how much of a bet he’d call. Was his raise a bluff? Had he made his flush? If so, how powerful a flush was it? I had sat down at the table only minutes earlier with $100 and had about seventy of that left. He had a touch more than that. For some reason I felt had I gone all in, he might not have called and I wanted to extract as many chips as possible. With his minimal raise on fourth street, I put him on a flush but not necessarily the nut flush, meaning he didn’t have the ace of clubs, more likely the king or queen. Otherwise he would have pushed harder with his initial raise. So how much would he call?
I fired $30 at the pot, obviously hoping for a re-raise. My opponent thought long and hard, taking his time. He made a mini-move to muck his hand perhaps looking to get some information out of me, then ended up calling, having a feeling he was beat, which he was. I showed my hand, he mucked his. He looked at me, wondering how I could play a J-5, but probably more upset with himself for not betting harder on the turn to shake me off the hand. He actually got up and left the table.
In retrospect, did I play this hand correctly? I think so. Given the limited information I had, I honestly think a stronger river bet would have scared him off, minimizing my gain. Keep in mind, the objective is not just to win the hand but to get as many chips out of your opponents as possible, as shrewdly as possible. After the flop, there was no telling I would have made my full house and I got to see the rest of the hand pretty cheap. When his flush hit on fourth street, with four outs to make my boat, I was a definitive underdog. My intention throughout the hand was to stay in long enough to see the last two cards as cheaply as possible, then punish my opponent if I hit on the turn or the river. After my second six dollar bet, had my opponent come back with an all-in bet or with a raise significantly larger than nine dollars, I would have had to think twice about calling. My decision would have depended on my stack, what I knew about my opponent and how I felt about the hand. In that particular hand, I was feeling frisky and liked my chances at pairing the board, so I probably would have called a larger raise in that situation, but perhaps not an all-in. Fortunately, his re-raise was minimal, pot odds clearly warranted a call and he ended up paying for it.
There are several correct (and incorrect) ways to play two pair on the flop, particularly with two suited cards or a straight draw on the board. I’ve found mid-sized wagers often prevent opponents from coming over the top and are a good way to see an extra card cheaply. If you’re faced with a heavy raise after your initial bet, you can then make your decision based on the facts in front of you. But a full house can be a huge money maker when it runs into a made flush, since they’re difficult to spot. Remember, the objective is to use the information you know about your opponents, their hand and their betting style and then figure out how much you’re willing to risk hitting that boat on the river for a monster payout.
In my current quest to work as little as possible while also attending premier sporting events throughout Florida, I decided to withdraw a small portion of my dwindling bank account and scalp a ticket to the Monday night Red Sox-Rays game. Despite having lived in Tampa, I had never been to Tropicana Field. But let’s be honest, prior to this season, there was never really a good reason to go. Since their inception, the Rays have never finished in anything other than last place in their division.
This year, however, the Rays have flipped the script. For a good part of the season, they held the best record in baseball, an even more significant feat if you consider they’re doing so in the American League East. Even Red Sox fans are impressed with the Rays’ mettle. No matter how often Beantown would make an attempt to narrow the gap, the Rays consistently maintained a comfortable lead.
That was until last night.
In front of nearly 30,000 fans (most of them cheering for the Sox), the Rays soiled the proverbial bed. The Sox had not won in Tampa Bay all season long. It’s safe to say they saved the best for last with a 13-5 romp of the Rays.
I was fortunate enough to scalp primo seats, twenty rows up along the first base line, not too far above the Rays dugout. I even showed up on time, or so I thought, entering the stadium in the bottom half of the first inning. Much to my dismay, as I was in line to purchase my first of several beverages, the person behind me (a Sox fan from Connecticut… imagine that) informed me that I had already missed a David Ortiz three-run homer and Mike Lowell solo shot. It reminded me of the time my buddies and I showed up late to a Bucs-Lions game back in the day. At the start of the second quarter, we walked in to see Barry Sanders running rampant all over the old orange and leading by a score of 21-0. An early bird, I’ve never been.
Fortunately, the rest of the game didn’t lack for offense. At one point, the Sox had five home runs on only six hits as the Boston lineup treated Rays’ ace Scott Kazmir like their own personal ragdoll. Nine runs, all earned, in three innings pitched. Not exactly the momentum the Rays were looking for heading into October.
With home runs by Ortiz, Lowell, then Bay, Varitek and Ellsbury, the Sox bloodied the Rays and the two teams now stand atop the division tied. The Rays now have fourteen games remaining: two against Boston, then four each against Minnesota, Baltimore and Detroit. The Sox have twelve games left: the two more against Tampa, then Toronto, Cleveland and New York. It’s highly likely that both the Sox and the Rays will make the playoffs. The question is who will win the division, and thus home field advantage, and who will be the wild card.
But the purpose of this post is not to provide the reader with an American League East breakdown or to predict the upcoming pennant races. Rather, I saw something intriguing and quite disturbing at the ballgame last night. One fan’s out-of-line behavior that raises an interesting question.
The word ‘fan’ is short for fanatical. Its meaning is self-evident. Many franchises are closely aligned with their fans. They take on a persona. For years, long-suffering Red Sox fans had accepted their role as the almost ran’s. But with their recent success, winning World Series in both 2004 and 2007, there’s a new breed of confident Red Sox fan gloating around.
But as you might think, this is not a story of an obnoxious Sox fan, but rather an ornery and absolutely inexcusable Rays fan.
Read on…. I promise you will not believe this.
Around the fourth inning, a woman was carrying her newborn up the steps, most likely to use the restroom or perhaps change a diaper. The child could not have been any more than 18 months and was dressed in cute, little Sox gear. About three rows down from me, to the right and across the aisle, an elderly Rays fan who couldn’t have been any older than sixty-five, sat with his wife. As the woman toting the baby climbed the steps, she eventually passed by his row. As she did so, the man stood up, took off his Rays cap, turned it logo-side and shouted to the baby “Get A Real Hat!” Okay, now… re-read that last paragraph.
A Rays fan... heckled... a baby! As if the eighteen-month old contemplated which color hat would better match his Huggies before leaving the crib. I’m pretty sure the kid couldn’t even say hat, never mind put one on by himself. As the mother continued climbing the stairs, seemingly unaware or perhaps totally in shock that this man had just accosted her baby, I asked her in disbelief, “Did that man just heckle your baby?” She replied half-amazed “Yeah, he did!” It was definitely something out of the Twilight Zone of sports. And I thought Partykiller trying to pick a fight with a guy in a wheelchair at a Florida-Kentucky game was bad.
Then of course, the always classy, random Red Sox fan had to get his two cents in by shouting back at the guy “Talk when you get a ring,” as if the polish still isn’t wet on his own hardware.
Clearly this man’s behavior was inexcusable, if not therapy-requiring. However, his wife sat by his side, silent, and didn’t so much as give him a second look. No tug on his shirt, no “Is this really the man I married?” glance, no promises to withhold sex for a month for his actions.
Yes, fans get out of hand. In no way was this man violent or threatening but there’s a fine line between fanaticism and stupidity. And this man crossed it. Look, I’ve been known to tip back a few and throw things at the television screen when my team isn’t living up to expectations. I’m as big a sports fan as the next guy. But regardless of whether the team I root for wins or loses, I pride myself on being a good sport, shaking the hand of a competitor after the contest and saying “Good game.” After all, isn’t that what we were taught in little league? Perhaps this man forgot that lesson. In my opinion, his partner is equally to blame. Control your husband, lady.
Remember guys, when your woman gives you a tug when you’re out of line, don’t just blow it off. She probably has your best interest at stake. Here’s hoping she does. I’m pretty sure had I heckled a baby, my date, had I had one, would have been up in my grill. And sex would have been unquestionably denied. After all, what’s so attractive about a baby heckler anyway?
Since I’m Tampa for the weekend, dog-sitting for my folks, I decided it would be in my best interest to attend Friday night’s USF-Kansas game at the New Sombrero. While my friends wanted to go to Sunday’s Bucs-Falcons contest, for some reason I had a feeling the Friday night college game would be a little more exciting of an atmosphere. If you had the good fortune of watching this game, it’s safe to say I was right on the money.
As I plan to watch the Ohio State-USC game this weekend with two rabid Buckeye fans (is there any other kind), to support their cause, I thought I’d re-up my currently inactive (due to lack of funds) sports book account. It’s not necessarily that I think the Beanie-less Buckeyes can, or will, win. It’s just not that often that you see a +360 moneyline for the number 5 team in the nation. I figure, if the Buckeyes lose, at least I can somewhat pretend to commiserate with my peeps. And if they win, I’ll be able to buy them a scarlet cocktail or two to celebrate.
Although I didn’t have any money in my account, the gentleman on the phone told me, that based on my recent activity, I had qualified for a $50 free play. Since I was going to the USF-Kansas game anyway, and since I thought that line was off kilter, I decided to lay the fifty beans on Kansas and take the 4. Are you kidding me? A 12-1 Big 12 team, a four-point underdog to a team that lost three straight conference games last year and doesn’t even play in its own stadium? I’ll take the points. Far be it from me to question the mathematician, sports-genius freaks that set these Vegas lines. I just thought Kansas was the better team.
Raymond James was rockin’ to a crowd of nearly 59,000 rambunctious and frequently tipsy, green-clad fans. For a second, I thought I was in Eugene, Oregon for a Ducks game.
Not too long after the game began, though, the place became quiet. After the first quarter, Kansas was up 10-0 and would eventually lead 20-3. The game was in hand, as was my bet. Kansas QB Todd Reesing looked in total control as he led KU scoring drives on four of the first five possessions. On the flipside, USF only scored on one of its first five. Considering I had four points to spare and KU had added a 17-point cushion, I was feeling pretty comfortable about my wager. The bourbon I had snuck into the stadium was flowing freely.
That was until KU coach Mark Mangino appeared to eat his playbook, along with a pizza, a double cheeseburger or two, a healthy dose of potato salad and a milk shake to wash it all down. I mean seriously, can this guy get any more rotund?
USF suddenly began to take control of the ballgame. After a Matt Grothe rushing touchdown minutes before heading into the locker room, USF soon looked Kansas-like, scoring on their first four possessions of the second half, three of which were touchdowns. Their newly inspired defense forced four straight Kansas three-and-outs. Chants of “U-S-F” filled the venue.
Suddenly, my four points didn’t seem all that safe, if good at all. Kansas had squandered a 20-3 lead and allowed USF to score 31 unanswered. I left my seat, taking solace in the fact that it was a free play anyway. With ten minutes to play and USF leading 34-20, the wager was a river of darkness. I headed toward the door. It wasn’t that I didn’t want USF to win. I just wanted them to win by three or less.
Then Mangino must’ve seen a Hot Doughnuts Now sign at the end of the tunnel because all of the sudden, he started calling some plays. On consecutive possessions, Reesing returned to his Heisman-contending form and led Kansas down the field for consecutive touchdowns. Are you kidding me? Only minutes ago this game was over, done with, kaput. Kansas was getting called for useless personal foul calls and too-many-men-on-the-field penalties. It didn’t look as if they had conceded. They were just being beaten… soundly.
But a big play or two later and Kansas had miraculously tied the game at 34. The contest was back on, as was my wager.
At times during this game, both offenses were flawless, making timely big plays. Reesing passed for 373 yards on 34-of-51 attempts. Not to be outdone, USF QB Matt Grothe was 32-of-45 for 338. That’s over 700 yards of passing, folks. Kansas had TWO receivers, Jonathan Wilson and Kerry Meier, each with over 100 yards. Someone call Steve Spurrier and remind him what his offense used to look like.
But in a game characterized by its offense, ultimately it was the defense that turned the tide. Kansas had the ball back in its own territory and was driving with less than a minute left in the game. After getting two first downs and needing not all that much more yardage to get into field goal range, Reesing let fly an ill-advised pass that was intercepted by safety Nate Allen.
Now keep in mind, I had no allegiance to either team and was there just to witness some good football and soak up the atmosphere. Little did I know what I was in for. With my four-point cushion, I had seen one roller coaster of a contest. It was like betting heavy on every single dealt hand of poker, only to call re-raises with nothing in your hand. Sometimes you’ll hit that flop, but more often than not, you’ll be watching your chip stack dwindle or raise in uncomfortable waves. Within minutes, I had gone from feeling totally confident about my wager, to writing it off as a loss, to realizing it was back on again.
Remember, as Allen ran down the right sidelines after catching that interception, a touchdown would have cost me the game. As tens of thousands of fans screamed in excitement, I kept shouting “GET OUT OF BOUNDS!!! GET OUT OF BOUNDS!!!”
Well, he did. USF ran one more play and allowed freshman kicker Maikon Bonani, who had missed from similar distance earlier in the game, to line up for a 41-yard field goal. Needless to say, I was now USF’s biggest fan. I didn’t want overtime. With those two gun-slinging quarterbacks behind center, anything was bound to happen. My blood pressure was higher than Mangino’s, which sounds like a great Italian restaurant around the corner.
Bonani ended up making the field goal, which tailed right before curving back in between the uprights. I defy you to watch that field goal again and tell yourself that ball, after it left his foot, would give USF the victory. Well, it did. And the miniature Bonani was carried off the field on the shoulders of his teammates.
Of course, my minimal wager paled in comparison to the range of emotions felt within that locker room and among USF’s student body that had just seen its school best a legitimate Big 12 opponent. BUT, the wager did make the game significantly more enjoyable to watch. Replay it in your head, thinking you had Kansas and 4 and try to contain yourself.
So congrats to Jim Leavitt and his program for a huge non-conference victory. Congrats to the guy who told me I had fifty free dollars to play with. Congrats to the odds makers who pretty much nailed that line right on the money. And congrats to all those who dyed their hair green for the game. And remember, folks, if you do choose to wager, please do so responsibly. It might just be a worthwhile investment.
As Week Three of the college football season approaches, athletic directors nationwide have blessed us with a delectable amount of non-conference football match-ups which give the keen observer an indication as to which conference boasts the best overall talent. Non-conference play will reach it climax this Saturday night as Ohio State limps in to USC. One of these two programs has played in five of the last six national championship games. The vest against the best. And although Beanie Wells isn’t (allegedly) 100%, could we really ask for anything more?
Not to be outdone is the less heralded, non-conference match-up this Friday night that pits two, top-tier major conference teams against one another: # 13 Kansas vs #19 South Florida.
When it comes to forming opinions about the conferences and their strengths, here’s what we’ve learned so far….
USC, the best team in the Pac-10, if not the nation, went on the road to Virginia, a bottom tier ACC team, and clobbered them 52-7.
Illinois, an up-and-coming Big Ten team, played Missouri, a top-tier Big-12 team, and lost 52-42 at a neutral site in a game that wasn’t as close as the final score indicates.
Alabama, an underrated SEC team, played Clemson on a neutral site and manhandled what was largely expected to be the best team in the ACC.
MWC front-runner, Utah, went on the road to Ann Arbor and beat a mid-tier Big Ten team in Michigan.
East Carolina, a surprisingly good Conference USA team, upset traditional ACC powerhouse, Virginia Tech, then beat the highest ranked Big East team, West Virginia, the following week.
UCLA, a possible Pac-10 contender, knocked off a middle-tier SEC team, Tennessee, who traveled cross-country in their opener only to lose a heartbreaker in overtime.
Another middle tier SEC team, South Carolina, hosted a poor ACC team in NC State in the season’s opener and shut them out, 34-0.
Kentucky, a mid- to bottom-tier SEC team went on the road and beat a Brian Brohm-less Louisville team, 27-2.
Fresno State, likely the best team in the WAC, flew to New Jersey to beat up on Greg Schiano and the Ray Rice-less Rutgers Scarlet Knights, however, after last night’s home loss to UNC, which gave Butch Davis his first road victory, that Fresno State victory seems a touch less impressive. We’ll know more about Fresno State - the best college football team in the nation whose initials are FSU - this weekend when they host Wisconsin. Is there anyone who doesn’t think Schiano should have taken that Miami job when he had the chance?
We’ve seen Florida, a top-tier SEC team take care of a mid-range ACC team in Miami… at least in the fourth quarter.
And Ole Miss, a bottom-tier SEC team lost on the road to possibly the best team in the ACC in Wake Forest…. barely.
So what have we learned?
We’ve learned that PAC-10 fans still think their conference is on a par, if not better than, the SEC.
We’ve learned that the Florida-Georgia game will once again mean something.
We’ve learned that the “Big House” should no longer be called that until Michigan can win a home opener.
We’ve learned that the best teams in the ACC and the Big East are simply not that good.
We’ve learned that if Ohio State gets run off the field by USC, the Big Ten will continue to be criticized as a conference.
We’ve learned that after consecutive losses in national championship games, going into Saturday’s match-up against USC, we’ve seen a new, concerned Buckeye fan… one that harkens back to the John Cooper days prior to a big Michigan game. (Where’s the confidence, guys??)
We’ve also learned that the outcome of the OSU-USC game will likely mean that one BCS champion will come out of the conference whose team wins that game. The other will likely be the SEC Champion once again. Unless the Big 12 features an undefeated team. Then one major conference will once again be slighted.
Prepare yourself for another wild weekend, college football fans. One in which the college football landscape will simultaneously become more clear, yet more muddied.
Miami. The U. The orange and green. That silly pelican.
These images extract a nauseating reaction from Florida fans. Although currently in rebuilding mode, Miami’s place in history as one of the most successful college football programs is undeniable. Five national championships. Countless impact players that have gone on to successful, if not Hall of Fame careers in the NFL: Jim Kelly, Steve Walsh, Michael Irvin, Warren Sapp, Bernie Kosar, Vinny Testaverde, Ray Lewis, Santana Moss, Reggie Wayne, Clinton Portis and of course, Frank Gore.
Gator fans have a particularly ill relationship with ‘Canes fans… for perennially, we’ve been on the receiving end of the whoopin’.
Years ago, Miami and Florida played each other annually, as UF does now with its other in-state rival, Florida State. The game traditionally took place at the beginning of the season. But when Florida got tired of starting each year with a loss, it adjusted its schedule and removed Miami from the slate entirely. As a result, Florida hasn’t beaten Miami since 1985. Kerwin Bell was still their quarterback.
In 2002-03, the schools decided to once again reunite for a home and away. The Gators were clobbered in that first contest in the Swamp by a score of 41-16. Ken Dorsey passed for four touchdowns and Willis McGahee rushed for over 200 yards. But the following year, the Gators were in perfect position to exorcise their demons and beat Miami, in the Orange Bowl no less.
I remember it like it was yesterday. The Don Calvino and I were watching the game at the Bellagio sportsbook in Las Vegas. With the Gators up by three scores, the game was well in hand. A young Chris Leak looked like he was the second coming, the quarterback who would finally push us over the edge and ensure that a generation of long-suffering Gator fans would no longer have to listen to the relentless taunts of the ‘Canes. Miami in turn had Brock Berlin under center. The same Brock Berlin who had been recruited by Steve Spurrier. The same Brock Berlin who later transferred because he couldn’t fit the scheme. The same Brock Berlin who reportedly scored the lowest of all NFL draftees on the Wonderlic test. And yes, the same Brock Berlin who led the Miami Hurricanes from down 33-10 in the third quarter to defeat the Gators, 38-33. Berlin played the game of his life that night, passing for 340 yards and having the last laugh. It also helped that he had Frank Gore rush for 127 yards on 25 carries. Not even the Bellagio’s finest bourbon could get that taste out of my mouth.
This weekend, the Florida Gators once again face their most hated, in-state rival. No offense to Seminole fans, but in the past four years, that game has somewhat lost its luster. While Gator Nation should never look past the Seminoles, we’ve at least beaten them. I came to Gainesville in 1987. We haven’t beaten Miami that entire time. We’ve beaten Tennessee, Auburn, LSU, Florida State, Ohio State, Alabama, teams that have all won national championships in that time span. We have yet to beat the ‘Canes. It has been a LONG time comin’.
I say this not to jinx the higher-ranked Florida Gators going into this weekend’s match-up, but rather to remind Gator fans how important this non-conference game really is. Although Miami is unranked and Florida is a national title contender, Miami for decades has had our number in both the regular and post-season. I am here to say turnabout is fair play.
A victory against a less talented Miami club will do more than just add another win to Urban Meyer’s already impressive record. It will officially establish the University of Florida as the state’s premier program. It will remind the talented high school kids in South Florida that there’s a new sheriff in town. And his name is Urban Meyer. Until that victory, despite our recent success, we will remain in the shadow of the Hurricanes.
The Gators are three touchdown favorites against Miami on Saturday. I will once again be watching this highly anticipated football contest with the Don Calvino, but this time in the friendly confines of the Swamp. Bourbon will again be the beverage of choice.
We expect Florida to make us proud and continue their quest for a conference, and perhaps national title. Florida has the speed, talent and mystique Miami once had. We are the new state powerhouse. We just have to prove it on the field, once and for all.
On a day when Ohio State was leading its home opener 13-0 early and LSU led last year’s giant-killer Appalachian St by 31 points at halftime, it appeared at least early on that Hawaii would give the Florida Gators a fight. Florida won the coin toss and deferred to give Hawaii the football to start the game. The Rainbow Warriors then proceeded to drive down the field and take what seemed like a lot longer than three minutes off the clock before having to punt. The Gators were unable to score on their first possession.
Florida's first quarter woes continued as they were once again unable to stop the Rainbow Warriors on their next possession. That was until Ahmad Black ended a promising Hawaii drive with an interception in the end zone. Twelve minutes into their season, the Gators had already committed five penalties and looked like they had plenty of kinks to work out on both sides of the ball. Hawaii had controlled the ball for 8:46 of the first quarter, running 17 plays.
A thirty-four yard Tate Casey reception later and the Gators finally looked like the offense of yesteryear. Gator fans then got their first look at track star Jeffrey Demps, who scrambled for a ten yard reception. Shortly thereafter, Tim Tebow reminded the 88,000+ eager fans in the Swamp why he’s last year’s Heisman winner. From the nine yard line, Tebow scrambled right, then left, on a busted option play to score what appeared to be a touchdown. Instant replay revealed he had stepped out-of-bounds on the one yard line. One play later and eighteen minutes into their season, Tebow handed off to Brandon James who scored the first of assuredly many Gator touchdowns this season.
Less than one minute later, Florida delivered a Major Wright cross to Hawaii’s hopes as he stepped in front of Greg Alexander pass and ran it back for pay dirt for a 14-0 lead.
A flustered Hawaii soon seemed incapable of moving the football as the new-and-improved Gator defense settled in comfortably, forcing another punt. With five minutes left in the half, Brandon James reminded fans why he is one of the nation’s most exciting special teams players by returning a Hawaii punt 74 yards for a touchdown. In the very first half of their season, Florida had already scored one offensive, one defensive and one special teams touchdown.
The wheels continued to come off for Hawaii as another turnover, resulting from a play which new head coach Greg McMackin chose not to review, resulted in a touchdown from one of what promises to be Florida’s most exciting playmakers on the very next possession. A thirty-three yard touchdown run from Chris Rainey, with some outstanding blocking by Riley Cooper, allowed him to waltz into then end zone untouched. Hawaii could not get into the locker room quickly enough to grab the concessionary, white towel.
At halftime, the Gators led 28-0 with Heisman hopeful Tim Tebow accounting for none of the Gator scores.
Coming out of the locker room, the Gator offense once again stalled, as they were forced to punt on fourth and fifteen from their own 25. That was until Coach Meyer called Chas Henry’s number for a fake punt, who ran seventeen yards for the first down to keep the floodgates lodged wid
