Snarkastic

I'm about ready to just name it after one of you.

This wrap thing still needs a title, at the risk of calling it Drunken Surly Flash Memories. I mean, I obviously can't use the word "satisfaction" anywhere near the sport of college football for the remainder of the year, not after tonight, but it needs something pithy and mean that maybe rhymes, so get with it already.

Anyway: God. Almighty. DAMN.

What's sticking with me as we roll past midnight and I drowse to ASU-OSU in the background:

• West Fuckin' By-God Virginia. Hell of a comeback, boyos. Please don't let this coax you into keeping Bill Stewart around.
• Younglings! Likewise, MIA.
• Little QB1 Lost. Colt McCoy's face as Texas Tech scored its last touchdown and blackshirts poured over the wall...just wrenching. He dragged his team kicking and screaming back into the game and the lead, and my heart just broke wide open watching it slip away from Texas.
• Don't get dressed up on our account, South Bend. During the second OT of what would become a 4-OT Notre Dame loss...the sprinklers came on. Like, the sprinklers on the field. Tragically, no HD shots of a dewy Wannstache glistening in the stadium lights were in the offing.
• Also, your pastor saw that. In which T. Kyle, who is not funny, says something funny, I attempt to pay him a compliment for eliciting a genuine laugh, he gets shirty about my no-shirty history, and I deliver a veiled threat that comes deliciously true. Tebow has triplets, TKK, not twins. Harvin, Demps, and Rainey. Aren't they adorable?
• While we're on Jacksonville: Kindly enjoy our new banner, and know that making it terrified me more than looking at it will terrify you. (The one we had for a Georgia victory was far funnier, so thanks a fuckin' lot again, Dawgs.)
• You know, I was all set to brush off the rest of Tennessee's season with a "whatevs", but once again, dear Joel got to it first and said exactly what I was going to say only better. Like Fake Future Husband, I don't fuckin' feel like dissecting this, but let's just get to this one more thing: Blood, frozen solid in every vein. When? Every time I saw Jonathan Crompton standing on the Tennessee sideline with his helmet on. And why would THAT be worrisome? Because Nicky-Steve, our fledgling sophomore QB, on the first play of the second quarter, after a hundred pass attempts and no picks, threw his first interception. This was always going to happen. And to the collective revulsion of EVERYONE EVERYWHERE, what to our COMPLETELY FUCKING HORRIFIED eyes should appear on the very next series but Crompton lumbering onto the field. I don't know if Stephens got into it with someone on the sidelines or what, but holy sweet goddamn was this the worst idea in a series of worst ideas. Guess what happened? Crompton dropped the ball. Like, on THE VERY FIRST SERIES. Guess what happened after that? Fulmer kept him in the rest of the quarter, time he chose to spend staring down receivers Michelle-Bachman-steezy, handing off balls that were promptly fumbled (I don't care whether that one was his fault or not--the guy's bad juju; try and tell me I'm lying), and generally being of no help whatsoever. To reiterate, however needlessly: I'm not a pitchfork-and-torcher. I'm not among the Knoxvillians burning up the airwaves and message boards all FIRE FULMER, but after THIS?? That's the most appalling display of poor judgment I've seen from this staff all year, WHICH IS RUH-HEEEALLY SAYING SOMETHING. I want him gone, yesterday.