Monday's Meatloaf - southern manners vs southern football

If you were not already aware, I am the product of an IPTAY marriage. Luckily my parents had enough sense to raise me in Athens. I tell them it was so Child Protective Services would get off of their backs. They say it was so Dad could get his doctorate from a real school.

Or something like that... Regardless, I guess the main thing is - to this day I have yet to drive a tractor, the preferred mode of transport in and around upstate SC.

The 2002 season opener brought my dad's kittens to town, only to limp away after DJ and Billy broke their hearts. It was especially sweet for me because as I left our tailgate to head for Sanford before the game, I had called my folks to give them what the final score would be.

Do you know who Billy Bennett is Dad? Well, you will. Dawgs 31 Tigers 28.

Boom. The next Saturday we headed over Lake Hartwell for a visit. As we drove through Pendleton the gameday traffic got very thick. Clemson had a noon start, so we were backed up in a seas of cars full of Tiger Rags on their way to touch that rock. To give you the full visual, we were the sore thumb sitting comfortably in our red and black truck with flags at full Glory Glory.

At one point, I tried to motion a lady into the lane in front of me. I was raised to be gentlemanly and she had been sitting there for a good 5 minutes at least. I was sure her potato salad was within moments of spoiling a tailgate somewhere near Tillman Hall. And we were in no rush as the Dawgs didn't kick off in Chickumbia until mid-afternoon (you remember...when David Pollack proved he only needed one left hand to corral his 3rd career INT).

Maybe had Clempson won the contest 'tween the hedges the previous week she would've just given me the finger and laughed. But all she could manage on this Saturday morning was to look away in disgust and refuse my generous offer.

Don'tcha just LOVE college football in the South? And luckily I didn't have to count on her for a ticket the following year when the Dawgs went to Clempson. Mom gave me hers so I could sit next to dad and witness a real 30-0 thumping that included another Pollack INT. David Pollack just saved our whatchamacallit!

Besides, I bet that lady Tiger's potato salad sucked anyway.

Today's Ingredients

- Johnny Manzanite got paid. Maybe. Actually, it appears as if this is true. Wonder if Emmert is wearing AJ's jersey.

- Annnnnddd, Dennis Dodds explains that Texas A&M is just an innocent bystander here y'all.

- But perhaps the best is yet to come for Jonathan Manzanilla.

- Meanwhile, in Athens, Connor Norman is ready whenever and wherever.

- Logan with some updates from practice and some photos for your eyes to take a gander at.

- Hillbillies really know how to display their optimistic side.
- Speaking of fan failures, Tyler finds LSU leading the charge as usual.
- Did you know that Georgia is 2-0 against Clempson in the month of August? Find out more in this post where The Mayor returns to Dawgsports with some random facts and stats.
- Blutarsky believes Ramik Wilson is the greatest quote maker there ever was. Ever.
- Kimberley finds Bobo with more questions than answers.
- But Paschall is kind enough to shed some light on the running back position.
- A panel at DudeYouCrazy previews the gators.

She let me sign her boobie.

- "Nobody on the D-line scares you. Nobody at linebacker scares you." ACC coaches, talking Tiger.
- Lastly, Felder, Kramer and Sallee inside Sanford predicting the Dawgs' season. Be still my heart.

Ok so, if Johnny Shitball spelled his name correctly while taking fat stacks of Andrew Jacksons, let's give him two games. If he put the "e" before the "i" then that's four games. If he was wearing AJ's jersey, that's six games, regardless of his spelling prowess.

And can we please cease and desist with the "Johnny Football" nonsense now? This kid ain't all about football. He's got such a wider spectrum. I'd like to submit a new surname for lil Johnny. Because I'm pretty sure after watching The Big Lebowski a couple more times this weekend that Johnny Football's dad is actually Jackie Treehorn. It's a near perfect fit and would certainly explain the party never ends attitude and the fondness for leggy nymphomaniacs.

Anyway, just a suggestion. After all, as Mr. Treehorn says - "The brain is the biggest erogenous zone." Enjoy your Monday Reader. I'm sure Cecil Newton is.

Bernie