SEC football is what makes life worth living for most of us. And recently, some of you slackers have gotten so serious about it that it’s not fun anymore. If your team doesn’t win the National Championship, you’re ready to tar and feather the head guy and go after another coach (who hasn’t won a NC where ever he is either, most likely.)
So today, let’s have a little fun. You don’t have to tell your twitter buddies (who also think you should fire your coach) that you read it. Just make sure to erase it from your browser history.
I’ve always thought that Nick Saban looks like Papa John. Of course, Nick has a few years on Papa, but I still stand by the comparison. So Papa says, “Better ingredients, better pizza. Papa John’s.” I submit that Nick could say “Better recruits, better team, Coach Nick’s.” Has a ring to it. Don’t you think? Their shirts even match, almost.
Do you think Butch Jones tells his Tennessee players to “FALL IN!” the way Sgt. Carter used to do it on the Gomer Pyle show? I’m sure he does not, but that doesn’t mean that he cannot look like the late Vince Sutton, who played Pyle’s crotchety superior. Maybe Jones could make Vol quarterback Justin Worley put a bucket over his head and sit on a stool until he figures out how to hit open receivers. If you’re too young to remember Gomer Pyle, you missed some funny television. (Tyler Bray went pro a year early for a reason, Vol fans. Shazam! Butch would’ve killed him.)
Mark Richt and Rob Lowe. I’ll admit this is a stretch. In my mind I imagined a photo of “Risky Business”-era Rob alongside Richt both with their cool-breeze Ray Bans on. But all Rob’s Ray Ban pictures are from years ago, and Mark just doesn’t have the hair to pull it off.
Finally, I couldn’t resist comparing Hugh Freeze to Mr. Freeze, just on name alone. Freeze is the coolest last name on the planet. But when I ran across these pictures of Hugh and the Batman villain, they actually do favor a bit, except that Mr. Freeze is gray. I don’t have anything real funny to say about this. I think it speaks for itself. Aight, slackers, you’ve had your fun for the day, now go out there and tweet ’til your team fires that bum of a coach of yours.