As I noted yesterday, I feel fairly confident about this weekend's South Carolina game. One reason is that we played a quality opening week opponent and took care of business (which as Kyle will tell you is the only way to start the year). The other is that I think this team learned during the 5 week stretch of which we no longer speak that if you don't get your butt ready for every SEC game, somebody hands your butt back to you with a side of fries and a pickle.
But alas, as former Texas golf coach Harvey Penick said, confidence is that feeling you have before you know better. And no matter how logically certain I am that we will handle the team that has been next year's defending conference champion since 1992, they still worry me. While Steve Spurrier is in danger of falling behind Mark Richt on the list of winning percentages among SEC coaches, he's still the Ole Ball Coach. Yes, this game brings out the sports prognosticating schizophrenic in me every year. It's positively ulcer inducing.
In the end, Saturday's contest is likely to come down to blocking and tackling. If we open up more holes than they do, and we tackle the guy with the ball before he gets through the hole more often than they do, we win. It may really be that simple. The team that wins this week is the team that leaves their opponent in a bloody heap on the field of battle.
So after you feast on chicken plastique , you should have a Bloody Chicken.
The drink consists of:
1) 3 ounces of Wild Turkey (bourbon: not just for breakfast anymore!)
2) 8 ounces of lemon/lime soda (Sprite works nicely), and
3) 4 ounces of grenadine (which is enough to both give you a sugar rush usually reserved for 5 year olds at a birthday party, and to turn literally any liquid blood red).
Mix this over ice, serve in a tall glass, drink, and repeat. You'll be asking Blake Mitchell for a recommendation on a bail bondsman in no time. And if you see Michael Adams, tell him pregame chardonnay consumption has been linked to the spread of the ebola virus. Until later . . .