It was a rough day on the ranch logistics-wise, but there is this image of Dabo Swinney watching cows play on a drumline. He's smiling, but in his head is roiling a series of questions you know Dabo Swinney has to be thinking: How do they hold drumsticks without thumbs? How much am I supposed to smile? What the hell does this have to do with me jacking recruits from Will Muschamp? Those aren't real, right? What do we call real, anyway? Who am I? Who are you? Do cows have five stomachs? Does that work like I think it does? Because I bet that fifth stomach is lazy. Stupid lazy cow stomach. Gotta get motivated, stomach five! Get in the digestin' game! Bet all of Les' stomachs work. Just chewin' away on all that grass.

I bet Nick Saban got a gizzard.

I just bet he does.

P.S. Nick Saban does not have a gizzard, and we'll be back tomorrow with a full schedule of content.

WHEN IT'S THIS HOT YOU GOTTA OPEN UP A WINDOW OR TWO. We worry about Al Golden the way we worry about Huskies living in warm climates. He's so clearly a man who should be living where it's fifty degrees or colder all the time, and yet has chosen to spend his professional life now in Miami, where the average high in August is 89 degrees and as humid as the inside of a shirt worn by...well, worn by Al Golden.

We don't even think he's trying to evoke a little night fever in Mrs. Golden here. It's probably a sweltering 68 degrees in that room, and the man has to open the vents just to get a little relief from the portable wetsuit he calls a body. We sympathize, Al, even if you are terrifyingly hairless.

#pray4sweatybros (via)

FLORIDA DOESN'T TRAVEL. Yet another reminder that alligators, while durable, have a very small habitat, and generally prefer not to travel outside of it.

THE NCAA iS VERY USEFUL. Without this, and this important guardianship of the line between amateur and professional athletics, the universe as we know it would collapse. Thank you, NCAA. We would text you Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, but there may be a violation somewhere in there just thinking about it.

PAWWWWLLLL THE CHICK-FIL-A BEARCOATS DONE TOOK OUR PATTERN. We really hope Cincy trots out these for the Belk Bowl, because the idea of wearing something special for the Belk Bowl is funny for mysterious but still very real reasons. HONEY PUT ON YOUR FINEST WE GONE TO CHARLOTTE.

THERE IS NOTHING LIKE THIS IN RUSSIA. After wading through hours of video of jankety, chaotic business in Russia, it's quite the compliment when a Russian is impressed by your sport.

ETC. Yeah, fuck 'em. Doesn't matter if he gets in, ever. Dale Murphy is still the shit. Zadie Smith on joy is one literary type thing you should read, but if you haven't dusted off "Ulysses" by Tennyson in a while, do that because there are fewer endings better than this:

Though much is taken, much abides; and though

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are---

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

And yes, that's the poem from Skyfall. RIP, Daniel Inouye, a badass among badasses. Real Steel is totally happening.

Yes this is one of those NMA faux-Taiwanese news reports.But it has so much to give, dammit: Tommy Tuberville coaching Alabama, Tommy Tuberville wincing as tortillas and footballs are thrown at him, Tommy Tuberville watching in horror as money is siphoned from his croker sack o' hundreds by grifters. Oh, and he's in drag and running out a window at one point, a subtle nod to the time Tony Franklin had to pull a Bill Murray-in-Zombieland maneuver to escape Auburn without being killed. That last part is the only true part of anything we just typed, and you know it in your heart already.

Though fallen gentlemen and the downsliding dregs of the hoi-polloi have shunned the stylistic necessities of the holiday, as always a Michigan Man holds fast to the notions rudely abandoned by lessers, and keeps the aspidistra of aesthetics flying singlehandedly. A trip to the subtropics? We must have cruisewear, supplied freshly by our tailors and delivered to the warrior-poet den in Ann Arbor smartly by our manservants. Travel would be cheap frolic under any other guise.

1.Matte finish. This was not previously approved by the Wolverine Homeowners Association, nor will you be given a variance for it after the fact. The Wolverine Homeowners Association Bylaws clearly state that "helmets should be bright enough to remind others that Michigan is the light of the intellectual world but not so bright as to evoke the painted whore."

2. Adidas logo. The design world's "Student Driver" sign on a car, letting you know that the person in charge of this is to be forgiven on the basis of incompetence, not deliberate malice.

3. Bright yellow pants. Perhaps you think this is a pedestrian safety thing, Michigan. But Florida law still permits hitting someone in a crosswalk and speeding away, thanks to a bill passed in 1987 by Governor DeathRace.

4. Outback Bowl patch. A tribute replica of the Coach Brady Hoke's signature tattoo on his left shoulder, and a touching appreciation of his leadership of Michigan football.

5. Football pants belt. It's an old Spurrier family tradition to poison anyone who shows up to an event without a belt made of ostrich skin. You won't even feel the needle shhhhh sleep now click clack.

6. Yellow letters. Rescue crews swear they're more visible against any backdrop.

7. Wristbands. Because shit, what isn't better with wristbands? Answer: NOTHING.

8. Hip M reinforces Michigan branding, and is also an edible piece of raspberry/pomegranate fruit leather that detaches for easy mid-game snacking.

9. Face mask. There's nothing unusual about it, but it will be the most valuable part of your uniform during the Pack Of Stray Dogs Hopped Up On PCP Halftime Show Presented By Checkers.

10. Evolution. Only snooty elitist Michigan would want you to believe Michigan football came from an ape!

11. Emotionless mannequin. Fearless. Loyal. Insusceptible to sexual deviance. He will never hug his children, for that would only slow them on the endless Sisyphean path that is GREATNESS. He is the perfect Michigan Man.

12. Cyanide capsule in mouthpiece. A Michigan Man is the master of his fate to the end.

On instagram straight flexin'? Pop the molly, I'm sweatin'.

Good luck to you not doing the hip shift, arm throw, and "WOO!" LeBron ends the clip with for the rest of the day. If you watch all five minutes of this without going mad, you will have completed a journey few can claim to have completed. I'm not saying that's a good thing, but it'll be yours, and no one can ever take that away from you.

You know this is already going to spiral out of control for one reason: Alabama fans are involved, and when Alabama fans get involved the very standards of human decency are the first thing out the window, and we don't mean in that cute, profane LSU-fan kind of way where they call you a motherfucker in the parking lot and pour beer on your car hood.

No, we mean the kind of behavior that gets your brakes cut in the night, aka the way Alabama in general sort of does things when hostilities escalate between the Yellowhammer State and anyone who crosses it. That's why we're going to reply for you, Alabama. The following t-shirts are way cheaper than a defense attorney, and far better than anything Notre Dame fans will think up because Notre Dame fans disdain t-shirt replies for many reasons.

• Doesn't look good under a freshly pressed Oxford.
• Doesn't look good on 55 year olds in pressed Oxfords.
• Sometimes involves knowledge of the other team.
• Will clash with Yankees, Lakers, Patriots, and Manchester United Gear.
• Ain't on the original Snorg girl, ain't buyin' it, brah.

One of those reasons is totally legitimate.

1. The Factual.

Well, you're probably not. But that's okay, since rooting for things based on your ethnicity is really cool!

2. The Mathematical

WHY'S THAT ELEVEN EATIN' THE 14 PAUL? NUMBER ON NUMBER CANNIBALISM IS LIMITED TO SEVEN'S INFAMOUS CONSUMPTION OF NINE, PAWWWWWLLL!!!!

3. The Theological

4. The Celebrity

5. The Rammer Jammer

6. The White People Divisions

WHO DOESN'T LIKE DISASTER? Why yes, we would like to discuss how Florida State failed to live up to preseason expectations and lost badly to NC State and Florida.

Man, it's so hard to remember how hyped Logan Thomas was in the preseason, but rely on Virginia Tech to produce an offensive superstar with progression from year to year and you will light precious American currency on fire without flinching.

AND A PROPERLY SPELLED SCANDINAVIAN SHALL LEAD YOU. Gary Andersen is the next coach at Wisconsin, coming off a season where he took lowly Utah State to eleven wins and a dominating victory in the Idaho Potato Bowl. The audition Andersen didn't realize he was having for the job may have come in one of the Aggies' two losses on the year, a near-miss at a home field upset of the Badgers in Madison. If not for a missed field goal, the Badgers would be hiring someone who beat the man who ditched the loving, cologne-scented embrace of Barry Alvarez for the crazed attention of the Arkansas fanbase.

AWWWWW BUDDY. It's going to be delightful when recruits don't have to be dismissed for pot possession.

GRANT TEAFF KEEPS HIS WORMS WARM. If you're tempted to overlook Texas/Baylor as a rivalry, then please remember the time Grant Teaff of Baylor once ate worms to motivate his team to beat the Longhorns. (It makes sense if you like stories about eskimos fishing, or stories that end up with Baylor beating the shit out of Texas.)

AND EACH CHILD WAS GRANTED A SCHOLARSHIP AT FULLBACK. Dan Hawkins just can't stop high-fiving children.

ETC: Gimme daibajizadaaaaahhh, James Hetfield sound board. Did you read this? You really, really should read this.

Parts one. Part two. Part three. And now the list continues into the dogs and cats, and then into things which might actually be sort of edible in a publicly unacceptable fashion.

61. Mizzou Tiger. Least edible of all tigers due to meth-y diet.

60. Clemson Tiger. Low country tiger. Yay, grits; boo, hint of burning tire.

59. Auburn Tiger. You're lured in by the promise of FREE TIGER STEAKS but it's a trap that gets you stuck in a combination youth group/timeshare meeting for six hours. Still: authentic Weber flavor.

58. LSU Tiger. Injected with spiced butter, marinated overnight in cajun spices, double-fried in a batter-smoker for seven hours before being served with crawfish sauce atop five giant pieces of fried eggplant and a whole fried redfish. Don't know what a batter-smoker is? Neither does Les Miles, but it won eight games as a starting QB for LSU, and you deserve a bit of blind faith after that, don't you?

57. Memphis Tiger. Delicious and tender when served in the local manner. Still, you can't help but feel like this is really more of a basketball meat.

56. BYU Cougar. It's a clean and polite meat, and can be caught walking right up to your door.

55. Penn State Nittany Lion. "This is the greatest meal in all the world, greater than anything Ripert or Morimoto could create together." To me, it tasted like warmed over sloppy joe wrapped in a 1986 Sports Illustrated. But this was State College, and I knew better than to disagree.

54. Kent State Golden Flash: No one knows what the hell a golden flash is. Assign random value of funyuns glued into ball attached to bungee cord.

53. Pitt Panthers. A difficult meal to prepare, which is why most cooks punt and order something else.

52. Fresno State Bulldog. There is a reason you spend the extra two dollars a pound and don't buy the "CLEARANCE - WAC CLOSING" meats.

51. Northern Illinois Huskie. A tastier-than-you-think kennelmeat unfairly slandered by the time Florida State choked and died eating it in the Orange Bowl.

50. Washington Husky. Jerramy Stevens is one of its most notable enthusiasts, praising its leanness, flavor, and especially the rabies. "The rabies is what makes it special," said Stevens in his r/kennelmeats AMA of April 2011.

49. Mississippi State Bulldog. The cowbells do not "scare away the foodborne illnesses." Not by a longshot.

48. UTSA Roadrunner. Be honest: what you want to taste like pheasant tastes like a vacuum-dried chicken wing left to hang in the back of your smoker uncle's F-150 for a few months.

47. Arkansas State Red Wolf. An energy drink made of Fun Dip, Faygo, and ground-up Shakira CD cases. I can't believe you thought this was a sure thing, John L. Smith.

46. Nevada Wolfpack. Steady diet of lost drifters gives their flesh the thrill of second-hand cannibalism AND the punch of three cans of Steel Reserve per imperial pound.

45. Florida Atlantic Owl. Close examination reveals the Florida Atlantic Burrow Owl is, in reality, a penguin that Howard Schnellenberger equipped with a huge pair of novelty sunglasses. His name is Keith, and he has been Schnellenberger's personal manager and closest friend since 1997. You should probably just leave him alone.

44. NC State Wolfpack. It's not the wolf-meat that tastes so bad, but that by definition there's just so fucking much of it to eat at once.

43. Ball State Cardinals. Per Indiana law is served, as all food in the state is, with giant tub of mayonnaise as a side, and with the server whispering "All glory is fleeting" in the diner's ear.

42. Eastern Michigan Eagles. The most unique of meats in that it exists despite having never been alive.

There is a report saying that at least one Oregon booster would not miss Chip Kelly on his rumored departure from the program due to his lack of social skills and general intolerance for what we'll call "the Mack Brown parts" of the head coaching position. Here to comment on that are Voltaire and Firehorse.

Nothing gold can stay. Were the wind not so transient, then the sailor's skills would be as rudimentary as breathing, and would we not then simply call him a pedestrian of the cerulean highway? Were the light not so fickle, and the hand not so steady, would the painter earn his billet in the king's stables, upwind from the foulness of the horse-manse enveloping the rest of his servants? The writer thinks not.

Science requires no manners, but art, yes, art demands the touch of a surgeon. Were life science and science alone, the Newtonian class would float above us on high, cloud-emperors deigning to dip their fingers into our affairs but for the correction of mortal foible and the petty lusts of the ceaseless primal impulse. An elegant rat trap with doors sprung by godly minds with fleshy fingers: oh, long may the dream of the benevolent panopticon live!

Yet the failures of science leave us with one consolation: art, and its practitioners. If Chip Kelly fails in soothing the sensibilities of the excessively human around him, it is his fault as a scientist. A variable left from his equations is perpetually the fault of the mathematician, not the equation. I have watched the royal balloonist fall from his ill-constructed buoyant air-spermatazoon, and did not once blame gravity.

O! He did make a jollificent splatter.

Monsieur Kelly has created his own lofty balloon, and reached such heights. Yet should he depart the balloon shall not miss him, nor his rude handling. In the case of machines, the hand never misses the pilot, and yet even shorter is the sorrow when a rough tyrant evacuates the cockpit. The machine survives for salvage; the same cannot be said of the pilot.

A WORD FROM FIREHORSE

HOLY JACK MORMON JESUS ON A DILDOCYCLE YOU PRANCING QUARTERCOCKS. YOU WANT SOMEONE WHO APPRECIATES THE FANS? YOU KNOW WHO LIKES FANS?DAN HAWKINS LIKES FANS. MAYBE YOU SHOULD HIRE DAN HAWKINS BUILDING COLORADO INTO SOMETHING STURDY AND DURABLE AND LASTING BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT AN OUTHOUSE HAS TO BE TO TAKE THE SHITPOUNDING AND PISS MONSOONS THE REST OF THE PAC-12 HAS SUBJECTED THEM TO. HE'S A GODDAMN REGULAR ARCHIMEDES FOR THAT SO FETCH HIM A BATHTUB YOU SPOILED TURDMARTIN YOU.

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHGGGGG IT'S LIKE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE YOU SPOILED TECHNICOLOR LYCRA WHORES. CHIP KELLY BUILT YOU A DEATH MACHINE A FULL-ON GODDAMN DEATH MACHINE THAT IS AT THIS MOMENT PROTECTING OUR PLANET FROM ASTEROIDS AND HUNTING TERRORISTS AND YES WATCHING FILM FOR THE ROSE BOWL. YOU SAY NO NO NO WE'RE PLAYING IN THE FIESTA BOWL BUT THEN BAM SURPRIIIIIIIIISE BITCHES CHIP'S GONNA SHOW UP AND DARE BOTH TEAMS TO PLAY YES EVEN YOU STANFORD YOU DID SOMETHING TO OUR PREGAME FOOD LAST TIME AND WE'VE GOT THE SOILED NEON YELLOW WICKING MANPANTIES TO PROVE IT

STOP MESSING WITH THEIR FOOD AND GIVING OREGON CRIPPLING TURBODIARRHEA STANFORD AAAHHHHH HARBAUGH TRICKS ARE THE WORST AND THEY ALL END WITH YOU GETTING THE TROTS---

CHIP KELLY'S TEAM IS GONNA PLAY TWO GAMES AND WIN BOTH BECAUSE THEY'VE MASTERED QUANTUM REALITY AND THE SPREAD OPTION. AND YEAH HE'S GONNA GO INTO THE PROS AND THIS WILL SUCK BECAUSE UNLIKE NICK SABAN WHO IS A MISERABLE HUMAN BEING WHO COACHES FOOTBALL TEAMS THAT ARE MISERABLE TO WATCH CHIP KELLY FOOTBALL IS A MOTHERFUCKING MECHANICAL BULL WITH A SURGICAL MASK THAT PUMPS PURE BZ GAS AND COCAINE INTO THE SYSTEM WHILE FIREWORKS SHOOT OUT OF YOUR ASS. WHERE DID THOSE FIREWORKS COME FROM? CHIP PUT THEM THERE NOT WITH HIS HANDS BUT WITH HIS MIND BECAUSE A.) HE'S TELEKINETIC B.) AND BECAUSE YOUR ASS IS NASTY AND CHIP'S NOT HANDLING ANYTHING DIRTIER THAN A HANDSHAKE WITH JIM MORA.

THAT MAN HASN'T WASHED HIS HANDS SINCE 1997 AND IT IS LIKE GRASPING THE HAND OF A GOLEM.

ALL HE DOES IS DESTROY THING AND WIN FOOTBALL GAMES AND NOT TALK TO GLADHANDING BOOSTERS LIKE THEY MATTER. CHIP KELLY AND ANY OTHER COACH AT OREGON HAS TO DO ONE THING AND ONE THING ONLY FOR THEIR MONEY BESIDES WIN, AND THAT'S TRAVEL TO KNIGHT'S ESTATE ON MOUNT CARNAGE, DISROBE, AND HAVE VIOLENT SEX WITH THE DEVIL ONCE A YEAR. KELLY DOES IT IN TWO MINUTES BECAUSE HE'S A BELIEVER IN THE HURRY-UP AND NOW SO IS THE DEVIL. IT HELPS THAT CHIP REALLY ISN'T HIS TYPE. POOR MIKE BELLOTTI. THE DEVIL LOVED HIS ASS AND I'LL LEAVE THAT STATEMENT VAGUELY ATTACHED TO "HIS ASS [SYNECDOCHE]" OR HIS ASS ['THE BUTT PART"]

AND BECAUSE HE LACKS SOCIAL SKILLS YOU SAY YOU WON'T MISS HIM SURE THAT'S WHAT THEY ALL SAY UNTIL THEY GO TO CHRIS PETERSEN AND HE'S LIKE--

--AND THEN YOU HAVE TO FIND SOME REALLY LIKABLE GUY TO FIRE BECAUSE YOU WANTED A COACH WHO DOES THINGS LIKE "TALK" AND "EMOTE" AND "DOES SOMETHING OTHER THAN TUNNEL HIMSELF INTO A BUNKER YOU PAY FOR HIM TO DO FOOTBALL THINGS IN 24 HOURS A DAY." AND HE'LL BE REAL FUN YEAH JUST REAL FUN WHEN OTHER TEAMS RUN FAKE FIELD GOALS ON HIM ALL DAY BECAUSE SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THAT SHIT WHERE ALL INCOMPETENT COACHES HAVE THE SAME THING AND THAT'S THE FAKE PUNT OR FIELD GOAL IT'S LIKE THE CANCER TEST HOW BIG IS YOUR FIST BAM! THAT'S THE FAKE FIELD GOAL OF STUPID TESTS, MAN

FUCK YOUR FEELINGS. THAT'S WHAT FIREHORSE IS SAYING. TAKE YOUR FEELINGS AND PUT THEM IN THE SEXY CLOTHES OF YOUR CHOICE. MAYBE YOUR FEELINGS ARE A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN. MAYBE THEY'RE A MAN. MAYBE THEY'RE A MANNEQUIN NAMED SABRINA THE TEEN WITCH AND FIREHORSE REALLY SUDDENLY GOT SAD THAT THERE ARE NOT MORE TELEVISION SHOWS WITH TALKING PUPPET CATS BECAUSE AAAHHHHHH FIREHORSE'S RAGE IS ONLY MATCHED BY THE SWEET AND PAINFUL TINGLING OF NOSTALGIA!

COME BACK SALEM SABERHAGEN! COME BACK FOR THE ANGRY HEART OF FIREHORSE NOW! ALSO FUCK YOUR FEELINGS OREGON BOOSTERS! FUCK THEM LIKE THE DEVIL SAVAGED THE TENDER SADDLEPARTS OF MIKE BELLOTTI! AHHHHHHH I HATE EVERYTHING ESPECIALLY YOU PERSON-WHO-IS-NOT-A-WITTY-ROBOT-CAT!!!!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS. WE GOT YOU A SUSPENSION!

The alligator never forgets two things: the joys of Christmas, and that time Brad Wing ran a fake punt for a touchdown and had it called back for a taunting penalty. That's why he got you a suspension for Christmas, LSU! Brad Wing, that very punter, is suspended for the Chick-Fil-A Bowl due to a violation of team rules, legitimately taking LSU's most popular player off the field for their matchup against Clemson. That LSU's most popular player is a punter is so very LSU of them, but not more so than this: LSU has a a backup punter who was also born in Australia.

P.S. Les Miles has fooled all of you by suspending an Aussie for four hours, four hours that will occur sixteen hours ahead of Eastern Time. SUCKERS.

WHO IS MOST WEALTHIEST FABULOUS? That would be Texas, of course, but in true keeping with their mores as a fanbase Michigan is second wealthiest, and is probably deeply unhappy and conflicted about it. (Note: Michigan fans will be unhappy and conflicted no matter what happens because they have overly large consciences about money, athletics, and being an actual university.) Florida is seventh, but with all that money hidden in the Caymans you'll never know how accurate that number truly is.

WE'LL TAKE THREE SLICES OF GIANT BEEF. Florida took three JuCos, and Will Muschamp likes him some beef. Meanwhile, Charlie Weis took TEN juco players because he is going to flip this house, dammit.

GET JACKED FOR FIELD POSITION. The Poinsettia Bowl is gonna be about the most exciting part of football: DEFENSE AND PUNTING. Why, oh why, does the Poinsettia Bowl always suck? Science, investigate this important matter, and then get back to cancer and gravity, etc.

THIS IS A LEGITIMATE QUESTION. If Barry Alvarez is saying Bret Bielema won with his plan, then what the hell is he going to do with Gary Andersen's spread attack?

THEY LOOK FINE TO US. You have to serve them on a blue plate.

THE GREATEST OBIT OF ALL TIME. If your life's summary looks like this, you can retire to the dirt-lounge without regrets.

ETC. The longform today is awesome because it's about a guy who was basically Superfly for a few years. Floating head of death? Oh, floating head of death. I'm-a-Mario, and what I do when I get a star is really, really gross.

This is a photo of BYU's Cody Hoffman slapping down a whale:

That's probably not condoned by the Church of Latter Day Saints, but it is also probably more acceptable than this. Have you watched Riley Nelson play quarterback? My, is it ever something, and by that we mean "a thing that is definitely necessarily preceded by some-."BYU plays a robust San Diego State team in the San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl tonight, who quietly won their last seven games with brutal ground attack, sound defense, and a solid punt game. That phrase is all you really need to know about this game: solid punt game.

Still, there are reasons to watch, especially BYU's Ezekiel "Ziggy" Ansah, the rare player whose given name and nickname are both equally awesome, and Kyle Van Noy, coming soon to an NFL jersey on a fat white guy's back near you.

Download the whole thing here, or listen in the player below.

1. The AP's article on steroid use and abuse in college football is well-meaning, if you think steroids are capital-letter BAD with a "B." It relies primarily on weight gain as one indicator of potential implied steroid use.

2. This happens to be a possible correlation, though not without some confounders. One possible confounder is diet. The old formula for Michigan's linemen in the days of strength and conditioning coach Mike Gittleson was for budding, undersized linemen to eat an entire pizza before bedtime, and then soak up the delicious calories. The report mentions that weight gain data does not define quality of weight gain, and boy is that an important note when you have eating like college student-athletes among the variables.

3. I'm sure steroids are a presence in college football. The testing protocols are decentralized, and in many cases not even enforced. There is money on the line, and a marginal NFL talent can, for a year or two at max, manage to inflate his draft stock significantly with judicious steroid use. It's not a long-term plan, but then again, neither is the NFL for most athletes.

4. I'm also sure of what an SEC strength and conditioning coach told me is another confounder, and I swear this will be the saddest thing you hear all day: a lot of incoming freshmen, especially those hailing from rural high schools and homes below the poverty line, gain a huge amount of weight because their freshman year of college marks the first time they've ever gotten three adequate meals a day. That weight gain isn't just late-night pizza: it's a body used to doing work on half the fuel a well-fed body gets.

5. This is not just the anecdotal evidence supplied by one person. A Georgia high school team that made the 2011 state championships had problems with malnutrition. The USDA's own report on food insecurity in the United States is terrifying enough, but go ahead and look at it compared to a map of starting roster talent shown by state. With the exception of Louisiana and Florida, the most food-insecure states also correspond to those producing the majority of college football talent in the United States.

6. There are a thousand little details there aren't space for here, and I don't want to discount an attempt to show steroid use as a real issue in college football. It certainly is, but in relying on weight gain as an indicator of possible steroid use, the AP may be missing another, even more troubling issue: the number of people living in the poorest parts of America who don't get enough to eat on a daily basis. A lot of them play football. How they manage to do that under the circumstances is another mystery ripe for investigation.

Look through SB Nation's many excellent college football blogs to find your team's community.

Follow @SBNationCFB

While awaiting tonight's exciting EXCITING GET EXCITED FOR PUNTING AND ANGRY DEFENSE Poinsettia Bowl, let us point out that of course Mike Leach is going to be part of a book about Geronimo. This is an excerpt from Geronimo's super awesome wikipedia entry:

It was during this incident that the name Geronimo came about. This appellation stemmed from a battle in which, ignoring a deadly hail of bullets, he repeatedly attacked Mexican soldiers with a knife.

If Leach didn't admire Geronimo enough before the 2012 season, he has to double his admiration after reading that the chief was one of the few people to literally carry a knife into a gun fight and live. Leach tried something simliar with the Spike Factor-winning Wazzu offense, and came out alive, but with greatly different results.*

*More of a battle-spork, really.

THE STRONG AV CLUB ON THE PLAINS. For some reason K-State, along with The Mask and Catlab, bring A/V thunder that's disproportionate to the school's size/profile/whatever.

The wuuuuuuuuubbby dubstep is something Bill Snyder would slap you for making him listen to, though. He'd probably slap you with a hand full of Werther's like the Rock the rock spitting on his hand before a knockout. YOU'VE BEEN BUTTERSCOTCH'D, JABRONI. (Then Bill Snyder would politely hand you another butterscotch, and perhaps pull the ones stuck on your face off with a smile.)

KYLE VAN NOY BEATS SAN DIEGO STATE. The line for BYU's Kyle Van Noy is insane, but accurate: 3.5 tackles for loss, 1.5 sacks, a forced fumble recovered for a TD, an INT returned for a TD, and a blocked punt. Nothing else happened in this game, because everything of import that happened involved Kyle Van Noy. This really is not an exaggeration. He killed San Diego State, or at least held the garden hose attached to the tailpipe in the window of the car for them.

Also, Bronco Mendenhall's fist-pump is hilarity.

AU REVOIR, BOATMAN. Jet-ski enthusiast and bottle artillery specialist Tyler Bray is leaving Tennessee officially because he probably should for financial and logistical reasons. His Wonderlic will be a thing of joy and amazement for all.

THE LOW-KEY TROOPER TAYLOR, IF YOU WILL. Trooper Taylor might be the one you know by name, what with the towel-twirling and cap-wearing and such, but one of the SEC's quiet and most durable recruiting gangsters, Rodney Garner, is returning to Auburn, and it's actually big news for SEC recruiting for all the aforementioned reasons. Garner's immensely connected across Georgia, one of Auburn's biggest recruiting grounds, and is generally well-liked and low-key unlike some obnoxious towel fetishists.

SERIOUSLY STEROIDS AREN'T THE FIRST PLACE TO LOOK. The answer for weight gain in year one may be a lot sadder than the AP is thinking.

IT WOULD SUCK TO HEAR YOUR OWN HEART BEATING IN YOUR EARS. Sean McDonough's ear condition is improving, but still sounds like the most disorienting thing ever.

ETC: NimbleTV sounds chill. BEARS IN THIS MOTHERFUCKING PLANE. Ahhhh man these leaves.

"Rick" is the EDSBS attorney-of-record. He also wants to share a story about last night, when he celebrated the holiday season by throwing a controller through his $800 plasma TV. Enjoy.

Hello internet, my name is Rick (my name is not Rick). I am 36 years old, have multiple degrees of various respectability, am a soon-to-be-father, and have been compared in appearance to a "high-carb Owen Wilson". I am a perfectly adequate height, but was asked recently but a five year old how tall I will be when I grow up.

Use this to complete the scene of last night, when, drunk and shirtless, I threw my Xbox 360 controller through the screen of an $800 plasma.

Not a photograph. (Illustration by Run Home Jack)

It was late for a work night, maybe 10:30am; too late to be three glasses into St. Remy cognac at any rate. Not Remy Martin, mind you, but it’s more affordable cousin.

I was alternating games of Black Ops II with my exchange student from Beijing, named Hung Long. His name really is Hung Long. Imagine his delight when I told him what that means in slang. "Fuck your grandfather!" he breathed in amazement.

Why not simply play split-screen? That’s part of the problem.

I suck at Black Ops II. I suck so fucking bad that my friends and neighbors have come to watch me play and offer hints and tips. One of the tips was "don’t play split screen, you miss campers, maybe because they’re too small. Do you need glasses?"

I don’t need glasses. But, ok, no split screen. So we take (took) turns on the main screen.

"Don’t fire until you can hit them, otherwise they see you on the map. And don’t use the machine gun," my friend Dustin had supplied. Alright, got it.

"Why the fuck are you using the crossbow? Don’t ever use that. Use the shotgun." His brother Nick had appended. Right, shotgun.

"Why are you to be suck? Dude. Fuck. Fuck, dude," Hung added. This was less helpful, but last night he went further. "Stand up, right in TV. Right here." He pointed to a spot on the floor, maybe four feet from the 36 inch screen.

This was about two hours, and the above-mentioned three drained glasses, into a most suck-tacular video game death-fest. I had killed no more than three people per game, died no less than fifteen times each, and seemed to have a special magnetism for all manner of airborne destruction.

I had taken my Think Geek "The Dice Are Trying to Kill Me" t-shirt off a few games ago. The thick cotton impeded my reaction times, I felt. Hung made no comment. He only wears knock-off Lakers gear anyway, like the vending machine clothing from Idiocracy.

I was going to have one fucking game with more kills than deaths. One. Then slumber.

"Stand here," he said. So I did. Weapon selection: some kind of assault rifle, crossbow (I like it), grenades, flash-bangs x2. I was fury incarnate.

The gamestate clears, and the map is selected. I smile. I know this map. I know where to hide, where to run. I can do this. Is it hot in here?

"TEAM DEATHMATCH!" the narrator grumbles. He has a voice like iron on gravel.

The screen becomes splattered with my blood almost instantly. What the fuck? How could I die already? The death reply shows a lucky far-flung grenade. That’s ok, it happens. Respawn.

Death. Death. Death. Bullets and bombs rain down like Apollo’s arrows at Troy, covering my troops like dusk at the end of the day. The narrator exhausts himself reciting my enemies’ horsemen of Hell. "Hostile UAV incoming…hostile RCXD in your AO…hostile Hellfire incoming…hostile EVERYFUCKINGTHING…"

I’m convinced that my internet had tremendous lag. And that one fucking guy has haxx. And everytime I find someone (most of the time I wander on an empty field, no enemy to be seen) the server migrates. Life is pain. The game is almost over.

Then I get knifed.

"Fuck my ass Rick you suck," spits one of my teammates.

That’s it. I lose my shit. I whirl the white controller overhead and release it underhand like a fast-pitch softball, less than four feet from the television.

Why not overhand? Why not a more manly and cinematic throw? I don’t know.

It hit the screen with a soft retort. A lightning storm of cracks spreads across the plastic from right to left. Inside the cracks white sparks glimmer. The screen goes dark.

Hung stares at me. "Fuck dude…"

I’m ashamed, sweaty, shirtless, drunk. I’m down one controller and have destroyed my only television. I swear to Crom I will never play this fucking game again. I won’t even trade it in and have its taint spread to another disc. I will break it into silvery shards and make them into neo-pagan headdress to show my physical domination of these bytes of fast-twitch moronic agony.

But then I learn the TV is destroyed, but not destroyed enough. Only the screen was ruined. The speakers still function. My disappointed narrator comments through the ruin, "We lost this one…."

Hung sits down slowly. He’s looking at the ground.

Merry Christmas in America.

The Beef O'Brady's Bowl is tonight, and if you really, really feel the need to think about this game there are quality previews all around, including Holly's and the stream of astonishing amazing material attached to this cornerstone of American sporting culture.

But if you don't need that, and simply want to drunkenly allow it to indiscriminately pour into your eyes like the rest of us, then we have a podcast for doing just that. It's mostly us complaining about the weather and then taking the annual FIND THE FAKE BEEF O'BRADY'S MENU ITEMS. Do we misidentify the corned beef wonton's authenticity for the second year in a row? YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT WE DO BECAUSE THAT SHIT SHOULD BE REAL.

As always, listen to it in the player below, or download it here.

In conclusion, BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF BEEF.

BEEF.

Hawai'i! Our most American state because we stole it, our most American mascots because they're a bulldog from Fresno and a horse that's got a history of corruption convictions, and our most American announcer in Carter Blackburn because he sounds like a law firm: HOW COULD ONE RESIST? Besides the whole "need to interact with family" thing, and the holiday, but that's all tragically overrated and trumped by the very real possibility of June Jones eating something he left under the bench in Hawai'i five years ago.

June Jones has never wasted a sandwich in his life.

You may enjoy the festivities in the embedded player below, or download the whole thing here.

All of the following things are real and are not made up:

• Hulk Hogan is opening a restaurant.
• This is not his first restaurant. His first one was called Pasta Mania. It was located in the Mall of America.
• Your parents did not have your birthday there because they did not love you at all, and never have.
• His description of the restaurant: "It's going to be Jimmy Buffet's [Margaritaville] times 10; Hooters times 10."
• The math behind this statement: unknown, undefined, and unexplored by any branch of science.
• Hogan said he didn't want to "cheese up" the restaurant.
• This restaurant will, however, contain a mechanical shark ride.
• Sister Hazel is playing the opening of the restaurant.
• The restaurant is itself a pitch for a reality show.
• That pitch, in Hogan's words: "It's Bay Watch, Muscle Beach and Cheers all in one."
• The restaurant is in the old Crabby Bill's, just down the way from Whiskey Joe's.
• Tampa?
• TAMPAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

FINE, FINE, FINE. We were moved. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? WE WERE MOVED.

We really just want there to be a version of this for the Little Caesar's Bowl. "You got me...OH SON YOU GOT ME PIZZA BOWL TICKETS. I ALWAYS KNEW YOU HATED ME BUT NOW I'M SURE OF IT. Clarity is your gift this holiday, and for that I thank you, horrible, unloving son."

RELEVANT TO BLOWOUTS OF AN EMOTIONAL AND HORRIBLE NATURE. The LIttle Caesar's Pizza Bowl, live from beautiful downtown Detroit, is still very much real, and very much on for this evening. Bill C describes CMU's defense as "Really not good," and that is being charitable! It's gonna be amazing! Podcast to follow in a bit.

THE MARKET WAS THEN IMMEDIATELY INTERCEPTED. Dana Holgorsen, captain of industry, rang in the stock exchange along with Ryan Nassib, Syracuse quarterback. If this reads like the weirdest community theater remake of Wall Street, well, it is.

GUS MALZAHN WOULD LIKE TO RECRUIT WELL. At least that's what a hire of Melvin Smith would indicate, since Smith is a veteran recruiter with a deep knowledge of Mississippi in particular. He also has a reputation for being scrupulous, which is a new and innovative thing with Auburn recruiters.

JUST LETTING IT GROW OUT. The Gene Chizik buyout life is getting beardy.

SERIOUSLY NOTRE DAME. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS

Seth Davis is a college basketball writer and personality, but he wants you to know he is so much more. He is a man who cares about things: the obesity epidemic in America, the benefits of juicing, and his mother's alkaline-balancing lifestyle business.

Appearing randomly in a stream of basketball thoughts last night was this:

So important. By green juicing you will NEVER worry about this again. Here is how.... fb.me/2D7fXcvfV

— Renewed Living, Inc (@renewedliving4u) December 26, 2012

The site belongs to Davis' mother, who "kicked the s---" out of cancer and then started a business centered around ion-free renewed living, or something that involves deionized water and infrared saunas. It would be great to link to some peer-reviewed scientific literature describing the benefits of any of this, but you can't share something that doesn't exist.

This led to Davis noticing that America has many sad fat people, and this made him accordingly sad.

When I travel the country and see how many obese people there are (including young kids) my heart breaks. It doesn't have to be this way!

— Seth Davis (@SethDavisHoops) December 26, 2012

This came after seven tweets about juicing, another tweet linking to his mom's science-free website, and another about how all you need to do to lose weight is drink twice as much water and no sugary soda, and perhaps you should go to his mom's website. (Also, something about juicing.)

Then he endorses "green juice," a blend of vegetables Davis consumes daily. For our purposes here, let's assume "green juice" is espresso brewed with absinthe. It's just as palatable as what he recommends.

Lots of people saying green juice sounds gross. I've been there. Once u start you will CRAVE it. You'll feel different if u don't drink it.

— Seth Davis (@SethDavisHoops) December 26, 2012

Couldn't imagine a truer statement, because absinthe is delicious, and vegetables are not. Seth Davis has exposed others to this, and they THOUGHT IT WAS AS GOOD AS DRUGS:

I introduced green juice to producers at Turner last yr during tourney. One of them said the next day, "I think you got me high last night."

— Seth Davis (@SethDavisHoops) December 26, 2012

Revealed: Seth Davis and one producer at Turner have never paid for quality narcotics. Don't worry about the scientific validity of his theories, though. Dr. Selig assures you of their validity.

My mom's company provides alkaline water machines for most of MLB including the @nationals. Good enough for Bryce, good enough for me.

— Seth Davis (@SethDavisHoops) December 26, 2012

The same sport that brought you the infinite health benefits of ionizing necklaces and bracelets, and grown men and women paying money for them in the 21st century? MOVE OVER, MAYO CLINIC. This argument is already over.

To review: Seth Davis has solved the obesity crisis, carries around a foul deconstructed bottled salad with him at all times, and really wants you to go to his mom's website full of internet science and expensive, demon-killing deionizing equipment. (Because, umm...alkalinity, pH, juicing, and GMOs and raw food and stuff.) Seth Davis may be reached somewhere on the road to Wellville, or at his Twitter basketball and juicing account @SethDavisHoops.