Mike Adams be darned, it's Cocktail Thursday. It's the Cocktail Thursday. As much mental energy as I put into drink selection for the other 11 games of the season, this is the big one.
And that's exactly how I feel about the game itself. I've gone on record over at my prior blogging quarters as saying that, while I hate Auburn, I hate Florida more. I loathe them. It is a deepseated and visceral disdain more suited for Central Asian tribesmen who have hated each other for 1500 years, taking only a brief respite from hostilities to observe the unifying effects of Soviet occupation. God, I hate Florida. If Urban Meyer's camaro broke down in front of my house, I'd probably call a towtruck. Then tell 'em to take it to Les Miles' house. Or let Mudcat Elmore sit in it for a few minutes. Same difference.
Ergo, this is usually the most dreadful week of my year. I've heard all kinds of excuses for why we've lost 15 out of 17 games to Florida. Bye weeks. Evil geniuses. Terrance Edwards' carpal tunnel syndrome. Ray Goff selling his soul to Satan for the Zaxby's franchise rights to all of greater Hahira. To quote no less estimable a Gator than Orson Swindle: WAAA!
I'm sick of it. You wanna know why we've lost 15 out of 17 to Florida? I'll tell you why. Because 15 out of the past 17 years we've been either outcoached, outplayed, or both. That's why. Blocking. Tackling. Catching. Thinking. These elusive concepts have doomed what should be universally hailed as one of the elite programs in the nation this millenium to become a once a year ESPN punchline.
It's simple, really. If we play with more intensity and carry out our assignments better, we will beat Florida. We did that in 2004. Prior to that, we did it in 1997. Intensity and execution. Those are your watchwords.
What kind of cocktail exemplifies intensity and execution? I considered moonshine. It's intense, and actually making it requires the logistical acumen of a SEAL team. But corn whiskey has a bad track record as a pregame libation. So it's out.
No, instead I'm going with something simple. We need this team to buy what Coach Richt and his assistants are selling. They're not being asked to construct a working fusion reactor. They are being asked to play hard and play smart, and to believe in themselves and their teammates. We need them to drink the Kool-Aid. The Bulldog Kool-Aid:
It's made with 3 teaspoons of cherry kool-aid, 3 ounces of rum, and 6 ounces (half a can) of mountain dew. Mix it up, add ice and enjoy. No frills, but it gets the job done. Comprende?
I'm a bit bearish about this game, because this team hasn't shown me yet that they can put it all together against a gifted opponent. But if Alabama can beat Tennessee by 24, there has got to be some way under Heaven that we can best the Gators by 1. I'm sick of losing to Florida. You're sick of losing to Florida. I'm sure Mark Richt is, too. While I'm sure he won't be enjoying a pregame Kool-Aid, that certainly shouldn't stop you.
If you're headed down to that little suburb outside Brunswick for the game, have fun and be safe. And until next time . . .