The number of college football-deficient Fridays is down to a pair. But this being one of them we still have to find a way to entertain ourselves. Thus we present, once again, Free Form Friday. It's our end of the week open comment thread for those who abhor vacuums, structure, and Steve Spurrier. Enjoy.
Maestro, the music . . .
We've repeatedly discussed my disturbingly poor taste in movies in this space, and that subject will get no rehashing today. However, my shockingly bad taste in television is another subject altogether, one which occasionally lends itself to content on this site. Today is just such an occasion.
You see, this summer I've found myself hooked on CBS's "Big Brother". For those unfamiliar with the show, a dozen or so folks who don't know each other from Adam's housecat are thrown together into a house, cut off entirely from the outside world, and forced to vote roughly one contestant per week out of the house. The last remaining contestant wins a half million dollars, or a date with Kate Upton, or free Starbucks coffee for life, or . . .something. That's really not the critical detail. The point is that these people from all different walks of life are forced to compete against each other in a dog-eat-dog scenario on a weekly basis.
All of which sounds kind of familiar. And it got me thinking: if SEC football coaches were in the Big Brother house, what kind of game would they each play? I've included some ideas below, but don't let that dissuade you from offering additional suggestions in the comments.
Mark Richt: Definitely that player who's going to go through the game without lying to anyone. That's immoral and no way to do business. Gets close to the end because everyone deems him trustworthy and likable. Then his alliance-mate Nick Saban backstabs him and he's evicted, and Jeff Schultz tut-tuts about how Mark Richt is too nice to win Big Brother, SEC Coaches Edition.
Steve Spurrier: Clearly the pot-stirring house guest who talks a lot of crap then acts all offended when others say he may not be that trustworthy. Engages in numerous side-deals and alliances. Won a lot of competitions when he was on the show before. Now not so much.
Dan Mullen: Classic "floater." Never actually wins any major contests, so he's not really a target. But he's not so totally devoid of personal hygiene and social skills that other contestants vote him out just because they can't go another day in his presence.
James Franklin: The guy in the diary room on the first night of the show talking about how he's going to "change the game" and "play these chumps like a fiddle". He'll then get caught lying to someone the second night and get sent home first, by a 2-6 vote.
Derek Dooley: On paper he looks like a threat. He's smart, good looking. His dad played the game a few summers ago and did pretty well. Surely he passed on some tips, right? Yet junior misreads the rules and gets disqualified from head-of-household competitions he should have won. Perpetually on the verge of eviction.
Joker Phillips: Like Mullen, no one really views him as a threat in the game. At least until he engineers a vast plot to get you voted out, a plot you never saw coming, not in
26 a million years. Am I right here, Volunteers?
John L. Smith: Arkansas's skipper would be the archetypical "old guy" contestant. There's one almost every season. He's old enough that the young bros don't consider him a huge threat in physical competitions, but cool enough to hang out and be included in their plans. Women in the house view him as a surrogate uncle. He's dangerous up until the point when he either overestimates his strategic alliances, the 20-something women all decide he's just kind of creepy, or his bursitis acts up.
Nick Saban: The favorite. From the moment he walks in all the other competitors sense that he could win thanks to his combination of smarts, physical fitness, and ruthless commitment to playing the game according to
the process his plan. He'll tell you that there's room for you in his alliance then call you aside before the weekly voting occurs to tell you that he's going with someone else. You knew he was going to do it. He's done it before. But you wanted to play with the smartest guy in the house, so you told yourself it wouldn't happen to you. Say hi to Julie Chen on your way out, loser.
I'm sure you can come up with suitable summaries of how Les Miles, Gene Chizik, Kevin Sumlin, Will Muschamp, Hugh Freeze, and Gary Pinkel would play Big Brother, SEC Coaches Edition. If you do, share with the group. Or you could talk about something entirely different, like whether Hutson Mason will actually redshirt in 2012, what we've learned about the Bulldog tailback rotation, or what you'll be doing now that the Olympics no longer have a grip on your soul. I trust your collective judgment, go nuts. Until later, have a great weekend, and . . .