Updated: Thursday, December 20, 2007

A New Car?

Bob Barker: All right Coach Rod, since the original Rod is dead, I'm going to have what his name up in the booth let you know what fabulous prize you can win today.

What's-his-name: It's A BCS CHAMPIONSHIP

(Coach Rod hoots and hollers on stage and almost does the worm, but thinks better of it. He proceeds to flip out, point to his lovely wife in the crowd, and gives Bob a big ol' bearhug.)

What's-his-name: That's right, its a 2009 BCS championship! Hand crafted crystal in the crystal mines of deepest darkest Ireland, next year's trophy is exquisitely furnished by the talented trophy smiths of Waterford. This, fully sanctioned NCAA honor can be yours if the Price is Right.

Rod: Me Wantee! (still flailing wildly, he points to wife again, mouths "I love you, baby!")

Bob: Ok, Rod. Now just calm down for a second. In order to get to that BCS title, you're going have to play one of our pricing games, and it just so happens to be a favorite of mine. We're going to play Cliffhanger!

Rod: Alright. Alright. I can do this. Lay it on me, Bob, just lay it on me.

Bob: Ok, Rich. Now, the object of the game is to get the correct amount for the following three items without going over 25. That's all three items, combined, Rich, and as you get them wrong our cliffhanger is going to scale this treacherous trail of his inch by inch. Ok then, Rich?

Rod: I got it, Bob.

Bob: Alright. Random announcer guy, tell us the first item for Rich here today.

Guy: Our first item is a collection of tenured assistant coaches, Bob. The entire staff of former Michigan legend Lloyd Carr from coordinators Ron English and Mike DeBord to the strength guy and decades of experience between them. Hail to the victors with these familiar faces.

Bob: Ok, Rich. how many assistants do you want to keep?

(The crowd comes to life, yelling out an assortment of numbers at a frantic pace. Coach Rod, once again consulting the wife, holds up what appears to be a combination of 5 and 7. It may be sign language. Satisfied with his decision he leans in to Bob's microphone.)

Rod: Zero, Bob! WHOOO!

Bob: Let's see how you did, Rich.

(The cliffhanger climbs his craggly peak, yodeling along his merry way.)

Cliffhanger: Yodelyodely yodley yodley yodely yo de yodley....

Bob: Oh, that's not a good start, Rich! Not a good start at all! Looks like the gentlemen thought you should have kept all of those Michigan men, and that's too bad, Rich. Now, you're going to have to do better on the next item, or else you're just going to dig yourself deeper, and we don't want that, do we Rich?

Rod: No way, Bob!

Bob: No way, indeed, Rich! Now let's hope you'll have better luck with the next item from Guy.

Guy: Our second item today are an assortment junior college transfers, Bob. JUCO brand junior college transfers have been known across the country to provide quick fixes to new and old coaches alike. Whether installing a new offense or defense, or just looking to keep your career rolling, look no further than JUCO brand transfers. JUCO! Because you can!

(Again, the crowd erupts in an orgy of vicarious opinion. Coach Rod once again consults the mob for their input, nods to himself, and turns to Bob for his answer.)

Rod: I think I'm going to shoot for nine, here Bob!

Bob: Nine?

Rod: Yeah, Bob. I'm sure on this one. I don't want to make the same mistake twice.

Bob: Are you sure?

Rod: Yeah, definitely sure.

Bob: Alrighty.

Cliffhanger: Yodelyodely yodley yodley yodely yo de yodley....

Bob: Oh noooooooooooo, Rich.


Bob: That's not the number we needed, Rich. We needed a low number! We needed a low number! Zero would have likely been best! It seems we've got ourselves into quite a jam here.

Rod: It certainly sucks, Bob.

Bob: Yes, it does. But, the good news is that you've still got a chance on our last item. Guy?

Guy: Our last items today are a pile of Letters of Intent. 2008 Letters of Intent from a perennially stout Michigan recruiting class. Well into the teens, this crop of potential Midwestern talent would do well for any program hoping to compete on a national stage.

Bob: Now, Rich. We're going to ask you to do something a little bit different here, so listen carefully. How many of those letters do you think you can keep? How many of those letters do you think you can keep?

(The crowd bursts into opinion one last time. Coach Rod is in a frenzy. His eyes darting all around the crowd for the correct answer. He finally settles on ignoring them all together and motions to Bob confirm in his answer.)

Rod: All of them Bob.

Bob: All of them is not a number, Rich.

Rod: I don't care! ALL OF THEM!

Bob: I don't know about this. I'm going to have to ask the gentlemen for a ruling. Gentlemen, can we accept "All of Them?"

(A car horn blares over the PA, signaling approval of the answer.)

Bob: Ok

Cliffhanger: Yodelyodely yodley yodley yodely yo de yodley....

Bob: Oh no....Oh dear. This doesn't look good for you Rich.


(A trombone plays the well known Price is Right theme in a minor key, as is its wont. Coach Rod has lost.)

Bob: Cheer up, Rich. We'll see you right after these words to spin the Wheel of Death.

FireMarkMay watches too much daytime television.



Updated: Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Return to Sneakyness


Just when you think I had been long forgotten, swept off into the ether of old news, I return, triumphantly to expose my deception, trickery, and other forms of dastardly derring-do! Most of my work has been done in secret this year, as my efforts have focused on revenge against those who spurn true talent! How else does one believe the Miami Dolphins could be so horrible in the face of mind-numbing parity in the professional leagues? No matter! But, I will suggest everyone take a look at the iron-cladness of Cam Cameron's contract, not to mention which mustache-twirling notary public has aided in sealing the fate of the franchise.

ENOUGH! Let us get back to the business at hand. Long has my trickeration been absent from these halls. Oh, how they echo with the howls of agony and the cruelty of past defeats. I only wish I could have been around more this season, but it seems I had been undercut by other less expensive forms of chaos. All of these upsets seemed to go on unaided by my own hand, but I would like to take some credit in pioneering the evil footballing arts. So, without further adieu, get me some interns to wheel in my Wheel of Death! Interns? Anyone? Hello? Fiddlesticks, Ill just do it myself...damn it all! Look at what they've done to you, my precious wheel, all dusty and what not, and it seems Mr. Alberts may have used you as a water closet at some point. Let's clean you up....


Tremble at the sight of it! My glorious wheel has spun and spun, leaving the whole of the BCS system in upheaval! Revel in the fetid stench of corruption as this bowl season gives us such feats of despondence!

The Fat Man, in all of his corpulence, graces this year's BCS despite losing to once top-ranked Missouri and having a pitiful strength of schedule! Sure, Mizzou lost last, you might say, but only because they defeated the Jayhawks! Now, they must be exiled to the lesser bowls, unable to reap in the benefits of national exposure, despite being ranked higher in the BCS! Clearly, the largesse of Mangino has perswadded blazer-clad organizers that Kansas is a larger draw than Missouri. Be conpuzzled by the thought! This leaves Missouri in the long-forgotten Cotton Bowl against....

THE CERTIFIABLE HOUSTON NUTT! At least we think. The man known only as crazier than a sack full of weasels makes my black heart smile with his duplicity. He will possibly lead his Arkansas Razorbacks in Dallas, but one thinks what could have been of Mizzou had the cruel BCS not been involved. A good showing might have allowed them to back into some kind of champeenship under the old system, now they have no chance at a long shot, and a meaningless exhibition trip to the Texas State Fairgrounds! Extol their cruel fate I shall! Speaking of cruel fate, behold my henchman in the chaos....

The malevolent Wannstache! Only his boorish backyard brawling could deliver the death blow to the noble couchburners of the Appalachias! Their late season stumble contributed to the bubbling cesspool of the final results, and their reward for such failure is a BCS bid, but there is another cruel twist, for they must head to Tempe to face a team that knows it all too well...

The Oklahoma Sooners, out for revenge in the desert, will surely be ready to crush all who oppose them into a fine powder. Pepper their porridge they will, and the remaining allure of biggest non-title matchup will crumble twixt their pestle and mortar, leaving us with the final display of BCS incompetence from none other than the Baron of Incompetence himself!

The coach without a name! The [Fighting Redacted] have stumbled their way into the Rose Bowl, thanks mainly to the embarrassment that is the Michigan Wolverines and the overall bore that a rematch with SC would invite. This leaves the orange-clad neophytes being thrown to the lion's den itself, the granddaddy of them all, the winter home of the Trojan Horde. They are out of their weight class in this one, and I don't think the various wagering houses can devise a line high enough to handicap their fortunes. I wager a whole two pence that at least 5 former Indian chiefs will be torn asunder into little itty-bitty pieces by the end of the fixture!

This leaves us with the relatively unexciting coronation of my favorite familiar, the werewolf with a chained saw for genitalia!
Behold as it is gifted a title match in its own domicile! The darkened skies will foreshadow the coming of thousands upon thousands of local fans that are both raging and of Cajun descent. The unending wails of the Buckeyes shall know no bounds as they are once again humiliated on the largest stage, shaming themselves and their conference once more! So it is written! SO SPINS THE WHEEL OF DEATH!

Broderick West Quinnsington IV is a charlatan of the highest order. His zeppelin is currently in the shop.