A Letter to Pete Carroll

Dear Pete (I hope it's okay if I call you Pete),

I just wanted to let you know that I thoroughly enjoyed watching your over-ranked, overrated, spoiled brat Trojans get beat by the unranked UCLA Bruins this evening. Although it does not take much at this point to distract me from studying for Secured Transactions, I consciously disregarded my academic duties in order to watch you lose. It gave vastly more pleasure than would a workable knowledge of Article 9.

Pete, you have to admit it's been coming for a long time. The commentators have been whispering about it for some time. After so many near misses (despite a very poor strength of schedule), it was inevitable.

The fact that your team is vastly overrated is not the only reason that I hate y'all. You and your team have consistently shown not only a massive sense of entitlement, but also a shocking lack of class. Annoyingly overrated Matt Leinart, who is, notably, currently whiling away his days as a mediocre pro QB for the Arizona Cardinals, refused to give kudos to Vince Young after the Longhorns topped the Trojans in the National Championship last year. Even worse, he went so far as to suggest that he was the one deserving accolades.

Fast forward to today, Petey. In the last few minutes of the game, when it was clear you were going to lose, one of your players started hitting the UCLA ball carrier in a desperate and shameful move that should have been clearly called a personal foul. And after your stunning loss to UCLA, Coach Dorrell had to come all the way over to your sideline to shake your hand. He appeared gracious and humble. You looked disgruntled. Way to be good sportsmen.

Come play in the SEC, ACC or any other conference that doesn't have a bunch of pussies in it, and your team might actually be revealed for what it is. Until then, I hope you wake up tomorrow with the taste of defeat still in your mouth.

Lots of love,

LST

I Halfway Retract My Previous Statements

So yesterday, my heretofore shitty, unranked football team upset the number 5 team in the nation in a rivalry game everyone expected us to lose. Our highly-touted but slightly disappointing freshman QB came out of the woodwork and threw no interceptions (compared to 8 in the previous 3 games) and completed 14 of 20 passes.

My only question is, Where the hell have y'all been all season?

In some ways it makes me more angry about our dismal season. It would be one thing to say that the team didn't have the talent, which places a natural ceiling on our ability to win. But they clearly have the talent; they showed that yesterday. Which means that in the ridiculous losses we've suffered, they have lacked the dedication, drive and focus necessary to bring home the win. And that is what disappoints me most.

My Football Team (Still) Sucks

%*#(@#(@(#!!!!

We lost. Again. That makes us 3-4 in our conference. Granted, it's a tough conference, but last year we finished the regular season with two losses and proceeded to steamroll over our opponents in the conference championship to secure a BCS bowl game.

At least my undergrad alma mater won today, beating the mighty Dartmouth Big Green, 28-25. Despite the fact that watching them play football is what I would envision Special Olympics football to be.

We are unlikely to secure any bowl game this year, and if by some miracle we do, it will be some crap ass bowl like the Cereal Bowl or the Toilet Bowl.

And the value of my degree will plummet forthwith. Because everyone knows that in the South, your football team's success factors proportionately into your law school's USNWR ranking. Obvs.

Weekend Woes

So it's Friday, classes are done for the week and I'm left with the weekly dilemma of what to do with myself for the next two and a half days.

Our football team is in the shitter having lost the last two games, so I'm not even sure I'll make the trip to the stadium to view another humiliating performance tomorrow. For the first time in five years we are unranked in the BCS and our in-state rivals are actually ranked this year. I'm not sure how this works. The school harps about having increased its "academic rigor," whatever that means, but still spends tons of money supporting idiot scholarship athletes who can barely construct a sentence (I'm guessing they bring down the average SAT score of the undergraduate population by about 157 points) in hopes that we'll be competitive in our conference.

We don't ask a whole lot of these kids. Learn to tie your shoe during your four six years here. Try to master remedial college math. And for fuck's sake, win some damn football games. Granted, we are in what is arguably the most competitive conference in the NCAA, but there is no excuse for the "best defense in the nation" giving up 51 points for a loss at home one week and then losing to a 14-point underdog on Homecoming the next. I propose threatening to make the football players pick real majors if they don't start winning. Maybe that will motivate them.

I should also probably start outlining my classes this weekend. It makes me feel so productive, and before I know it, finals will be here. But then there's that little voice in my head that keeps saying, "You're a 3L. Why the hell would you even consider outlining before the end of classes?" Because I'm a Type-A control freak is why. And outlining might prove to be more satisfying than watching another train wreck football game.

Having ignored my side project for a good week now, that deserves some attention, too. I haven't so much as touched it recently, which is not good with my commercial debut looming on November 9th. I haven't named my company nor have I launched my website yet. And my inventory is not where it needs to be. Which is less than awesome.

While I would love to get out of town and away from drunk fratties for a weekend, I think I will just have to stick it out here this weekend and be productive. I do get to look forward to dicking around all next weekend though, which will keep me going.

Please Go Away, Terrell Owens.

The buzz in the news today is that our favorite NFL player attention whore tried -- and failed -- to overdose on pain killers. Perhaps he felt he couldn't garner enough press looking pathetic and riding his bike on the sidelines during practice. Maybe he thought that if Parcells refused to play him for missing practice -- how dare a coach refuse to play someone who misses practice!? -- then he'd just show him. I can't dumb myself down enough to get into Terrell Owens' vacuous skull and figure out what is (not) going on in there.

I am just sad that Terrell Owens wasn't more successful. Hopefully this little incident killed his sperm so he can't procreate and produce more insipid, egomaniacal asshats. Just go away, Terrell.

It's Almost That Time of Year Again

It's officially almost football season. Yes, my beloved team kicks off against some crappy, non-conference opponent who they are certain to whip soundly a mere THREE WEEKS from today. I'm so excited, I can already smell the barbeque and Brunswick Stew!

To commemorate, a Southern Baptism:


I mean, could anything be cuter? The Terrorists, of course, would beg to differ:


They are certainly little attention whores.