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The Alphabetical: College Football, Week 9
from
The Sporting Blog
Each Sunday during college football season, Spencer Hall offers a letter-by-letter analysis of Saturday’s college football games.
A is for Aporetic. The Greek word for “tending to doubt,” and exactly what some college football writers may not be when evaluating their rankings of Penn State and their relative worth in the BCS.
Penn State did score more than ten points against Ohio State at Ohio Stadium for the first time; even more helpful, that was enough to win against Ohio State and keep the Nittany Lions undefeated.
Under no circumstances, though, does this constitute a demonstration of Penn State’s worth as a national title contender. Their adjusted strength of schedule (82nd) currently not only lags behind Alabama (53rd) and Texas (12th), but also behind Boise State (59th) and even Texas Tech (81st.)
The misty-eyed and sentimental would put JoePa’s team in the BCS title game because of the past: for 1994’s undefeated team, for JoePa’s legacy, for the story itself. None of these reflect what has happened
this season, though. Penn State has played very well against a weak schedule, and will not have to play a championship game to win their conference.
If they miss the title game due to their strength of schedule or lack thereof, it will kill a lovely storyline. It will also be the logical and fair thing to do on the part of the voters, who are there to reward the best teams with the most convincing resumes, not to set up misguided tribute games.
B is for Block Party. Florida blocked the first two punts attempted by Kentucky, and then blocked a field goal just for kicks. (
TURBOPUNS!) Getting the ball inside the five on your first two drives helps you hit the ground sprinting with rocket-skates, no matter what team you’re facing.
C is for Crowdsurfing. Jim Knox, FSN. He’s slaving away on FSN, but don’t tell Jim Knox that it’s not primetime. Knox began the pregame intro from Oklahoma’s matchup with Kansas State in Manhattan by crowdsurfing the student section, an adventurous choice given his prior experiences doing jaunty intros:
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Way to get back on that horse, cowboy. Live without fear, Jim Knox.
D is for Delivery. It’s one thing to make a promise to do something outrageous if your team scores 50 points-plus in Death Valley, but another thing entirely to man up and do it. With Darryl Gamble’s second interception of LSU QB Jarrett Lee and the subsequent touchdown, Georgia broke the 50-point plane and forced Georgia blogger Doug Gillett to live up to his promise to run down Highland Avenue in Birmingham wearing only a Georgia flag.
Because he is a man of his word,
he did it. (SFW, but just barely.) College football fans care. Too much. All the time. Sometimes while running almost naked down public streets. Wearing flags.
E is for Excelsior. On a related topic, let us now praise the arm of Matthew Stafford. Under the laws of physics, it is impossible to throw a ball in a perfectly straight line, but we dropped physics in college to watch
Days of Our Lives. Therefore, we feel secure in saying that Stafford can actually throw a ball in a straight line off his back foot with a defender hanging off his neck.
His arm strength defies belief. Against LSU, he threw what appeared to be a blind heave to find an open tight end tiptoeing along the sideline. A full throw across the body and across the field still whistling into his receiver’s hands with audible force -- the best arm in college football on sick display in Death Valley.
F is for Fruitful. Florida scored 63 on Kentucky. Missouri scored 58 on Colorado. Oklahoma scored 58 on Kansas State, 55 before the half. Texas Tech scored 63 on Kansas. Georgia scored 52 on LSU. A fecund day offensively all around in college football saw teams scoring absurd amounts of points in every direction, often in huge gluts. Oklahoma scored four touchdowns in the first
and second quarters alone.
G is for Gonzo. The sluggish counterpoint to a day of feverish offense: the twin nightcaps of Penn State at OSU and USC at Arizona. Defense is nice, but the Lions/Buckeyes game was unbearable to watch after a day of 40-yard sprints to paydirt. Ohio State's offense in particular was frustration incarnate. Beanie Wells was held to 55 yards on 22 carries, and never appeared to be in rhythm as a runner.
USC/’Zona was a bit better, but only because of frenzied blitzing by USC’s defense, not because anyone actually did much on offense. Why anyone goes from under center against the Trojans defense mystifies me. Nothing makes Pete Carroll happier than the sight of two blue-chip assassins bobbing over each shoulder of the opposing center, ready to leap spring-loaded over the line onto the ballcarrier. They did this to heightened effect in the second half against Mike Stoops’ team, compensating for a 17-point effort by the offense by crippling almost all Wildcat scoring efforts.
H is for Hurt. The nation’s biggest turnaround continues at Minnesota, who using the rule that there is only so much pain in the universe and that it must be redistributed annually, took their 2007 anguish and poured it into Purdue in a 17-6 win over the Boilermakers at their final homecoming under Joe Tiller.
Minnesota, now 7-1, reserved special malice for Curtis Painter, seen here both gripping his shoulder and serving as a visual metaphor for a Purdue team’s soul, following a 109-yard passing day and a loss to last year’s Big Ten doormat:
This hurts in so many ways.
I is for Incompetence of a Staggering Degree. Big Ten officials have an innovative approach to rules in tight spots: they simply make them up. Officials awarded Michigan a touchdown when Brandon Minor caught a ball clearly out of bounds,
but touched the pylon on the way down and pinned it under his foot on the landing.
Rule 4.2:
Player Out of Bounds
ARTICLE 1. a. A player or an airborne player is out of bounds when any part of his person touches anything, other than another player or game official, on or outside a boundary line (A.R. 4-2-1-I and II). A player or an airborne player who touches a pylon is out of bounds.
And the ruling on the field --
after replay got a hold of it, mind you:
At least in the SEC, the officials
merely assault their own players, not logic itself. Infuriatingly incompetent as the call was, it didn’t matter, as the Michigan Payback Tour continued, and the Spartans won 35-21. (But haha, Spartans!
You had to take a cold shower afterwards! Take that, “little brother!”)
J is for Juxtapose. Mike Teel, pre-Pitt: Boo-magnet QB with three TDs the whole year, whose primary achievement came via headslapping a teammate on the sidelines. Mike Teel, post-Pitt: A suddenly potent QB with nine touchdowns after throwing six against the Panthers in a 54-34 victory over the Wannstache. Mike Teel isn’t a bad quarterback, he just prefers to score his touchdowns six at a time, or hardly at all. It’s a style preference, really.
Also, thus continues Pitt’s mischievous trend of blowing games they should win, those rapscallions.
K is for Kragthorpe. With Pitt kindly giving ground, let us praise another oft-critiqued coach -- Steve Kragthorpe of Louisville. The Cards beat South Florida at Papa John’s Stadium, using the power of fresh toppings and heart-stopping garlic butter to give USF their second loss on the season, and keep Louisville alive in the Big East. Kudos go here as well.
L is for Ludicrous. Colt McCoy actually
raised his already absurd completion percentage in the Longhorns’ 28-24 victory over Oklahoma State, completing 38 of 45 for 2 TDs, 1 INT, and an 84.4 percent completion rate on the day. The bionic quarterback strolls on to the Big 12 Championship Game and beyond,
bloody knuckles and all.
M is for Mankind. The weird spreads from the top at Texas Tech, from Mike Leach down to
the exquisitely painted war-mask of lineman Brandon “Mankind” Carter. As Kansas will tell you, though, they will happily drop lethally-executed madness in 50-point batches on your head if you’re not careful.
Go ahead and take the over for the Texas Tech/Texas game, and don’t hesitate to put money on Texas Tech to cover, because in Lubbock odd, odd things happen at night. (We just checked: no full moon, so Texas has that going for them.)
N is for Neanderthal Beatdown. Navy did not attempt a pass in their 34-7 beatdown of SMU, the first team to go without the super-fancy forward pass since Ohio did it in 1997. I would wager that the first word to describe SMU’s defense this morning is
sore.
O is for Off the Mat. Bill Stewart was writhing on the mat, seemingly beaten, but as Tommy Tuberville got up to taunt the crowd, Stewart grabbed a folding chair and brained him before locking him in a figure four and putting him down Ric Flair-style.
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Down 17-3 at the half, the oft-critiqued West Virginia coach put the ball in the hands of Noel Devine, had his defense step up, and let it rip. Thirty-one unanswered points and 207 Devine rushing yards later, the coach on the hot seat was Tuberville, and the Mountaineer was running out of gunpowder for his musket. Coach Gomer, coonskin caps off to you for a masterful job on the national stage.
P is for Pressure. Penn State to Iowa, Texas to Texas Tech, and Florida meeting Georgia in Jacksonville -- the season’s overheated Hibachi explodes in a tailgate inferno next weekend. In case you forgot how ridiculously fun this all was, congratulations. November is here to remind you of just that. Bring flame-retardant underwear for the festivities ahead.
Q is for Quaking. As in the entire ACC at your bipolar neighborhood bully, UVA. After a mopey, disgraceful start to the season, UVA has switched into full manic mode, beating four in a row including three conference games against UNC, Maryland and Georgia Tech. If they stay on their meds, they’re trouble in the ACC, where anyone with the proper chemistry can claim a conference title no one seems to want.
As it stands right now, the team that lost 31-3 to Duke stands atop the Coastal division, and that is all you need to know about the Nerf Gun Shootout that is the ACC, where a loss is just a starting point for negotiations, and humiliation is heaped in equal parts among member teams.
R is for Rebound. As in off the ground, where LaGarrette Brown used a helpful Arizona State defender as a love seat before getting back up undowned for a 26-yard TD in a 54-20 blowout of the Sun Devils.
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S is for Savvy Editorial Policies. The
Knoxville News has a brave, brave feature with the Vols Vent line, an open hotline for Tennessee fans to vent their frustrations after football games. The Alabama edition isn’t up yet, presumably because they’re editing the profanities out of it, but when it does go up, it’s sure to be colorful listening. A sign that the people who run this are brilliant? The line is open from 5:00 p.m. to 12:00 a.m. only, and closes when the real late-night booze rage kicks in fierce-like.
T is for Tutorial. Jeff Demps, Florida RB, is figuring it out like a superhero who just discovered his powers. Watching him turn a short crossing route from Tebow into a long TD, because defenders really didn’t understand how fast Demps truly is, calls to mind the scene where Tony Stark blasts around his laboratory in
Iron Man. “Okay...so I can fly.”
U is for Unfortunate. Your screencap of the night is brought to you by the hairstylings of Alabama fans morose for all of three seconds prior to scoring on a 4th and goal in the Tennessee game.
No further comment needed besides the obvious prediction of future regret and pain based on that haircut.
V is for Void. The SEC is Alabama, Georgia, Florida, and then mediocrity down the stacks, a fact reinforced by Vandy’s loss to Duke, Auburn’s loss to West Virginia, and Mississippi State’s loss to Georgia Tech earlier this season. Add in Tennessee’s loss to UCLA, and even devalue Georgia’s victory over an overrated (at the time) Arizona State team, and as a whole the conference is down in terms of any measures of objective quality wins to justify the “ESS--EEE--SEE” chants of rabid fans.
Aside from the Big Three, the conference’s teams are either rebuilding, retreading or regressing (see Tennessee.) There may be a time for hootenanny SEC chest-thumping, but to speak in the vernacular: this year ain’t it.
W stands for Wispy. As in the Aggie and Cyclone defenses, who
combined to give the combined offenses 22 of 30 first downs on the day.
X is for Xenon. The noble gas, that like all noble gases, does not interact in chemical reactions, or a pretty good description of LSU’s tackling against Georgia. LSU not only missed tackles frequently, but also refused to become a factor in the second half, allowing 28 points when a stop would have gotten the Tigers back into the game. A noble performance only in the chemical sense of the word.
Y is for Yes, Brent. ABC’s been saddled with two difficult games to call in a row and a couple of serious, ratings-killing blowouts, and it’s starting to show on ol’ buddy Brent Musburger. Brent was laughing ruefully on air as Ohio State and Penn State ground to a 3-3 tie at the half, presumably coping with the thought of thousands of viewers flipping over to the World Series (which, fortunately for ABC, did not start until after 10 p.m. EDT.)
Z is for Zygote. Terrelle Pryor’s stage in his development as a QB. He is obviously fiendishly talented, but his youth showed with a crucial late fumble that Penn State converted into game-winning points. He will improve and grow, though watching him in Ohio State’s tight-pantsed offense will annoy the living daylights out of me for the next two years at least. On a 3rd and 2, we all knew the zone read was coming, and we all knew it was going to be stuffed because there were nine Penn State defenders in the box. Watching it happen was as fun as chewing aluminum foil as a gameday snack.
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