It's the most wonderful time of the year, and not just because Halloween is right around the corner (and the day afterwards, which I have christened "All Sweets Day"). No, this week is special because it is that blessed time when we all get to express our loathing for
one of our biggest rival s. I know that other reasonable, loyal Bulldog fans hate other teams more passionately than they hate the Gators, but most of my life (and football/Bulldog fandom) has seen us dominated by those arrogant, chomping, more-hideous-than-most-other-shades-of-orange-wearing jerks. So welcome to Hate Week, everyone! Vineyarddawg has already kicked Hate Week off by putting the Gators on notice and by explaining his hatred of Florida. I would never attempt to match his eloquence on the subject, so I will just jump right into what I do best: hating our rivals in poetic form.
As for the title of this first entry of Hate Week, I have been learning to make
admittedly crude and amateur gifs. What better way to add to Hate Week than to express my hatred for Florida in both written and gif form? So this week, I will be posting a different gif of everyone's favorite hanging gator in different moving poses. Today's gif and poem are both requests from Mom; she hates the Gators, too, and wanted to contribute to Hate Week by finding a Halloween poem that she felt was suitable for using to make fun of the Gators. She also had creative input on the gif. Originally, I had found a crocodileGator logo pumpkin that some poor, unfortunate soul had carved to use for the head of this gif, but Mom told me I needed to find something else instead because she would never put such a thing on a perfectly good pumpkin. To really understand the gif, you should read the original poem, which is written by Internet sensation Anonymous (so I needn't bother to apologize):
A dumb little Gator, all blust'ry with challenge,
stood close to Coach Muschamp, all rotund and orange.
"Those stupid Bulldogs! They rage in me inspire!"
Yelled he, "We were destined for ranking much higher!"*
"You're right!" said Coach Muschamp, "But do not worry.
We'll stomp and chomp those Bulldogs in a hurry!"
But his jawing and chomping did make the Dawgs mad,
and made them want to light him up really bad.
So with shouts and loud whoops, the Dawg defense did run
all over the field, determined to have some fun
and astonish their fans, who had traveled to see
a great Jacksonville win--"I hate those SOBs!"
Bulldogs hit the bad Gator and rattled his brains--
it was perfectly legal, their method of pains.
Then two eyes, a long snout, and a mouth big and wide
appeared in his vision, comfort to provide?
"Why is our mascot a crocodile?" he asked Tim;
he forgot his QB while his poor head did swim.
But he lied to his coach, and he put on his hat;
so a Dawg, with his shoulder, did lay him out flat.
So much for that much longed-for Gator revenge;
so much for Coach Muschamp, rotund and orange.
At game's end, Coach Richt, who was passing that way,
wished him well, ending Gator's Jacksonville Day.
*If you're thinking to yourself that this sounds more articulate than your average Gator, you're right. I cleaned this up for the innocent eyes and brains of our readers.