take a year off, see the world, backpack across europe or run auburn’s offense.
Tony Frankin’s expected 86′in’ is ancient news on the blogosphere-nets by 9am local time on Thursday, but hey, I have a day job you assholes.
It’s funny to watch the entire internet realm, be they “legit” reporter or “legit” blogger, try and spin this a different way. My award for the most tasteless take on the coverage goes to Friends of the Program. The gents whip up a wondrous “War Eagle / Human Vagina” montage that could only be topped in uncomfortable candor by an actual picture of said deposed offensive coordinator packing up his car. (Awkward!)
One possible reason for the Tigers' offensive woes? Thier coordinator was trying to finish the entire "Twilight" series before the movie came out this Christmas. OMG TEEN VAMPS OMG
At this rate, being Tommy Tuberville’s offensive coordinator is a hell of a job. You know you’re done after a year, so fuck off and have some fun! Other high profile gigs like this would have you chasing the job security carrot, but with a crystal certainty of your own employment mortality, work on those style points. Your ass is right back in the Mountain West breadline come Christmas, so live it up!
1) Run seven-receiver sets, and have at least one play where they’re all on wheel routes. Fuck you, Mike Leach – we don’t need no stinkin’ linemen. When the fans grow accustomed to seven wideouts on all downs, insert a frightened barnyard animal in at slot receiver. When humans alone can earn an offensive scheme the “Wild Hog/Rebel” moniker, imagine what a live goat consistently beating man coverage on a fade route would do.
2) At random points, scream into your headset, “LEFT BUTTON, B BUTTON! LEFT BUTTON, B BUTTON!” over and over again. When a delay of game penalty gets called and Captain Ears demands to know what’s going on, tell him that’s the unstoppable play you called on NES Tecmo Bowl with the Raiders, and after all, isn’t this school the home of Bo Jackson?
3) Tailback lined up under center? Passe. Put a nose tackle back there. The last time I actually played a full game of Madden, it was 2003 and mass quantities of Kettel One had been consumed. Down 21-0 early, I drunkenly decided to move Atlanta Falcons MLB Keith Brooking to quarterback.
When questioned about my decision, I (apparently) rambled on about my man-love for Brooking – “stayin’ true to my home state ‘n Georgia, man… and rocking a goatee, man! He’s the cool. He’s cool guy. I want to just hang out with him.”
It was really uncomfortable for everyone, and like many sexually questionable admissions made while intoxicated, a lot worse the next morning.
