Dear SEC Officials,

On behalf of LSU football and all of our fans, we would like to thank you for the victory this past Saturday in Georgia.  The absurd, yet perfectly timed, unsportsmanlike conduct penalty assessed after Georgia scored a late, and possibly game-clinching touchdown, really helped us out.  For there was no chance that our ineffective offense would be able to move the ball more than 50 yards in less than a minute given the mediocrity of our passing game.

You first came to our overrated aid in the third quarter.  Georgia was systematically having their way with our soon-to-be-exposed defense and after firing their way into our red zone, you fine officials, in your infinite wisdom, decided to call a mystifying Unsportsmanlike Conduct penalty which immediately pushed the Bulldogs back out of the red zone.  Unfortunately, Georgia had already figured out our defense at this point and scored an easy touchdown only moments later.  But, as always, it was the thought that counts.

And of course, you made it up to us anyway!  For how could the SEC and the NCAA both not see what was on the horizon?  A 4-1 LSU team against the undefeated Gators?  This makes not for compelling football! But, a 5-0 LSU ball club?  At home?  Against the National Champions?  This is something we can all make a little extra scratch off of!

So I say to you, noble officials: do not bow your heads in deserved shame for the obvious transgression against our unfortunate opponent.  They were a worthy sacrifice to the national televisions gods as well as to their sponsors.  A lightning strike touchdown against a top-ranked defense or not, their celebration could certainly be deemed excessive, at least in our humble opinion.  And apparently in your enlightened opinion as well!  And so once again, allow us to offer our sincerest gratitude to you and your families.  And even though we have every intention of getting stomped next weekend by a superior football program, we still appreciate the opportunity.

Deux Deux,

Coach Miles

32 Things

As you may or may not have noticed, this blog is strongly biased toward two things in life: football and music.  We try to unify the two in print as well as we do in our own minds, but these things do not necessarily translate all that well when traveling between the abstract to the tangible.  But this new segment appears to be prepped for success and understanding.  It combines our favorite sport with one of our favorite songs and the two get along just fine, even if it is also combined with one of our least favorite things; NFL recap posts.  Regardless, it's 32 Things!

32 Things - moe.

1.  Cowboys - Did anyone even notice that Roy Williams wasn't on the field during that final ill-fated play?

2.  Chiefs - A good sign your coach is desperate: an onsides kick to begin the second half.

3.  Ravens - The refs didn't drop that ball.  Mark Clayton did.

Go on...

En Route: Brown Baggin'

So we've been over this already, but (the royal) we'll be in Los Angeles this weekend, listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers, eating donuts, breathing smog, considering implants so long as daddy sends money from Minnesota, drinking OE out of a paper bag, and generally not being a sports fan.

When in Rome...

Anywhere here is Major Colvin's take on the brown paper bag (subtitled for our Hispanic readership):



Amazing.

And here's our take on all things non-FSD:

• Power rankings told exclusively through the lens of the quarterback situation across the league. 
• Why tennis actually might be better than hockey, and therefore, better than your favorite sport. 
• Soooo, Deshawn Stevenson isn't completely insane?  Just kidding, that's obviously the case.
• Do not bring your skateboard along when you are heading back to get your wallet.
  

Have fun residing and/or visiting better cities, towns, and villages this weekend, folks.  Except for Deuce and Ginge.  It obviously can't get any worse for them.

HEADLINES. . . !

Matt Sanchez recently spotted sporting a clean mustache...

Derek Jeter MVP of cloying, delusional sportswriters everywhere in New York...

Inspired by Stafon Johnson, boxers now undergoing intense fellatio training to promote jaw-health...

Chris Collinsworth and Phil Simms brawl on the set of INSIDE THE NFL after simmering, mock animosity devolves into boiling, actual animosity...

Legal system offers no help for NHL’s lingering stray dog epidemic...


Eric Wedge driven to unemployment by his own theory...


Tom Brady the second coming of Jay Cutler… Or something like that...

Delonte West the front-runner for lead role in inevitable remake, herpes-awareness PSA...

Greg Biffle to miss first race of Sprint Cup due to chronic brake toe...

Hockey, B*tch

A hastily drawn up semi-preview of the NHL season featuring heavy coverage of the Boston Bruins and a lazy reference to a more well-written article.

It's difficult to make it through the entire football season while sporting this constant bulge in my Dickies.  I mean, I've gotten pretty used to it over the last five or six years, but still, it involves constant vigilance and control of one's psychological imagery.  Shoot, I can't even think about looking at porn, let alone, you know, actually looking at it.  One false move and this high-wire act I call "maintaining non-soiled undies" is flattened on the pavement below.

Go on...

THE SHEET®: Week 4

What is this sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet?

This weekend FSD is going on a little field trip to the West Coast in order to determine just what it is like to be watching football in a city that does not have a football team on a Sunday morning.  And not just a city that doesn't have football, because who cares about them, right?  But rather, a city that used to have a football team.  Nay, TWO football teams that were both ripped away in the span of a few short years.

And one almost wants to feel bad for them.  Imagine if Chicago had both the Cubbies and Sox taken away over night?  Could you imagine that vacuum that would be created as a result?  Something tells me that this wouldn't stand, or even that the situation would even arise.  But, for those who haven't quite figured it out yet, we're talking about LA here.  A place where the only thing that matters is your self-image and God, could you just imagine being caught dead at a shitty Raiders game with all those FREAKS running around?  

Well, at least not in Oakland anyway.

Yep, it should be interesting to be in a city where the only people that show up to the bars on those Sunday mornings are the transplants who all fully share the same frame of mind when it comes to LA:  It's your own damn fault, people.  But, on the bright side, at least you got the Kobe bandwagon for another 5 or 6 years.

Anyway, lots of talk about other men's balls on THE SHEET® last week.  We always try to improve on things like that with each passing week.  So this week, there will NO mentioning of balls, scrotes, teabags, nutmeat, marbles, cojones, or anything of the like.

Well, maybe one or two.

Picks and sugs. in the comments if you wouldn't be so lame.