Hello Tennessee fans! It’s that time of year again where you get to redeem the remainder of your gift card to the Alimony salon for the second of two ass waxings at no cost to you. Just sit back, bite down on something leathery (Pat Summit keep your shirt on), and know that it will all be over in forty minutes. Do not fear, as the pain of Sundays treatment will be quickly forgotten when the NCAA borrows Jimmy Dykes’ “nail” in a few weeks and shoves it directly up your “Cumberland Cavern”. Bruce, you must know by now that governing bodies do not take kindly to mistakes of veracity and candor towards their investigations. That really should have been a lesson you learned when the ex, Kim Shrigley, wouldn’t accept “individual workouts” as the stated reason for your fingers smelling like cat food after attending 2007 fall student orientation.
What? You thought that an eight game suspension for conference games would appease the Gods of Indianapolis for lying directly to their face when they had photo evidence to the contrary? Yeah, that is about as likely as finding a leprechaun, a unicorn, and a hymen all in Charlie Sheen’s boudoir. The faith that self-imposed punishments will satisfy the NCAA is as misplaced as a Randolph Morris fax or Billy G’s Titleist.
UT fans, it is time to wake up and see your coach for what he’s worth. Pearl has been turned away at more sweet sixteens than Roman Polanski. Last season’s Elite 8 was much like when Cinderella finally made it to the ball – yeah, I know, she coughed – before anything terribly good happened, her dress went to hell, the horses turned into mice, and the carriage turned back into a bright orange Pearl. See UT fans, Cindy tried to hide her flaws behind a well padded bra, a bump-it, and spanx, but in the end, the wheels came off at midnight. UT, when the NCAA tags your school, you’ll definitely know what time it is. Except, in your case, there will be no happy ending, save what Natural Light fueled tug Brucie can coax in a cove at Norris Lake. UT bball fans already know this, but the only ‘glass slippers’ to be found in Knoxville are size 12 Timberlands and they belong to your women’s coach.
If you’re lucky, UT, Sunday will be the last time this calendar year UK will have to hear you scream out your safe word. But then again…. there is always Atlanta. Just grunt or stomp or whatever it is you people in TN do whenever you fake like you ‘read’ something.
Peace and chicken grease,
CC: Hubert B. Going to Atlanta