I would like to strangle thank DavetheDawg for bringing it to our my attention that Carlton Thomas will be suspended at least for the Georgia Bulldogs’ season opener against the Boise St. Broncos.
As the perpetrator of two recent exhibitions of something resembling optimism, I assume full responsibility. Depressive Kyle has taken swift action to address the situation by (i) locking Manic Kyle in the trunk of a car, (ii) wrapping Isaiah Crowell in bubble wrap and placing him under 24-hour surveillance, and (iii) securing a verbal commitment from a five-star goat to serve as a sacrifice.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, which I recently criticized, noted with admirable concision and restraint:
No specific reason was given for Thomas’ suspension. A 10 percent-competition suspension can be applied for missing excessive academic appointments, arrests or flunking a drug tests. No record of arrests could be found.
Short of repeating the words of Orson Swindle, the best I can do is quote the words of Gob Bluth: "Come on!" We’ve gone nine months without a player arrest, and we still can’t keep guys from getting suspended! Without knowing the details, I would agree with the Journal-Constitution’s assessment of the likely reasons for this development, which again invokes the Gob Bluth response: "Come on!" If it’s the first possible reason cited, shouldn’t Caleb King have taught everyone a lesson? If it’s the third possible reason cited, shouldn’t Justin Houston (and the toughness of the University of Georgia substance abuse policy) have taught everyone a lesson?
Either way, we’re doomed. You hear me? Doomed, I tell you. Every running back we have is going to transfer, flunk out, get suspended, or otherwise cease to serve as a fully functional football player. That "missing man" formation Mark Richt used in the recruitment of Isaiah Crowell? Prophetic! We’re just going to line up with ten men on offense, and Mike Bobo is going to surprise everyone by following up first and bomb with second and bomb, third and bomb, and fourth and bomb. That’s right, no punting! I told Mark Richt to be bold, so we’re going for it every time with no running back! Hey, Les Miles would be on board, wouldn’t he?
If you’re inclined to look on the bright side, at least this eliminates any chance of Coach Bobo sending Thomas up the middle into a nine-man front on third and eight, but, if you’re inclined to look on the bright side, you’re at the wrong dadgum weblog! Right here, right now, as of this moment, it’s all doom, all gloom, all the time.
We’re going 0-12 and losing every game by a final margin of 223-0. Get used to it!
I’m going to go ahead and issue an adult language advisory on the ensuing comment thread. Be warned: everyone has clearance to curse to his or her heart’s content. It’s warranted.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go roll ball bearings around in my hand and prattle on about strawberries and yellow die markers. . . .
Go ‘Dawgs!