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Cocktail Thursday: South Carolina Edition

 

If kickoff is approaching, the Bulldogs are playing the once a year overachievers from Steve Spurrier’s School for the Illogically Optimistic, and you have no idea whether we’ll break 10 points, you may want a drink. Allow me to help.

It’s entirely possible that the animal spirit of this Georgia offense is in fact a platypus. As Chris Brown of Smart Football fame pointed out yesterday over at Every Day Should Be Saturday, the lack of an identity is perhaps the single most reliable indicator of a "bad" offense. I suppose that if Georgia’s offense had an identity at this point it would be, in a word, "balance." Mike Bobo will call 30 running plays and 30 passing plays over the course of any 60 play sample set. It’s as reliable a phenomenon as the passing of time, the rhythm of the tides and Charlie Weis’s feeding schedule.

Whether those plays will be effective or not is anybody’s guess. As a general rule, they were not on Saturday in Stillwater. At other times (see 2007 WLOCP) they seem to keep opposing defenses off balance.

Now comes the news that Coach Bobo’s flying circus may or may not open under the big top with a different guy under center, at least to start the game. Logan Gray might or might not take the reins of the UGA offense, and we can only hope he has better luck with it than the Ginger Assassin did. Or does. I just don't know which.

You may or may not be toasting Logan Gray, but if you do, I suggest you toast with a Grey Whale:

Add 2 oz. Grey Goose L’Orange flavor infused vodka, 1 ½ oz. of Amaretto, and 2 oz. of orange juice to a glass filled with ice. Top it with seltzer. It’s not gray in color, but it is "grey", which is either a British spelling of the Americanized "gray" or how you’ll feel if Gray and/or Joe Cox and/or Spiro Agnew (who let's face it, might be starting at QB for all we know) has a gray day against the South Carolina Gamecocks. I’ll be back tomorrow with the 5 Things you’ll see when the ‘Dawgs take the field on Saturday night in Athens.

Until then . . .

Go ‘Dawgs!!!