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Blogger Contest Round 2: Tennessee Hate

Friends,

I have to say, I was happy to see that I would be judging the round of the blogger contest dedicated to Tennessee hate. Truly, there are few subjects on which I am unequivocally versed than this very one, not only having held a general ill will toward the Orange men (not the Orangemen; they’re okay) all my life and even this past season having the ill fate of being seated in the direct center of the UT fan section at the Wildcat/Vol football game (altruistically, I hoped to find at least one or two decent folk there, but I was mistaken – they’re all horrible*). So let it be said that as my own UT hate knows no boundaries, I was happy to see our four finalists agreed with me. So let’s see how they did, shall we?

*the only exception to this general rule is MaconVol, whom I love.

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KL REED:

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No. I’m not talking about Sigma Kappa on sorority row (although one could make a disturbing point if you’ve been there).

I’m talking about the doppelganger of the much too flamboyant, tawdry and sweaty Mr. Bruce Pearl. Now, while Vincent Pastore has absolutely nothing to do with the University of Tennessee I just think it’s comical they look so much alike and it should be pointed out. Much like Billy G’s doppelganger is Gary Sinise or Billy D’s is Eddie Munster. Don’t worry, Pearl’s not off the hook yet.

Now, how else can we make fun of the Vols? It seems it’s really not that hard. Sit back and observe its students, fans, players, coaches, and basically all of its alumni and they take care of the rest for you. However, I do need to write about them and while it doesn’t seem it’s fair to try to encompass what the Volunteers are all about in 1000 words I will try.

FOOTBALL

Congratulations Layne Kiffin. There’s no one else in the world I’d like to punch square in the face than you. He really is the annoying, whiny rich kid next door, riding his dad’s coattail to get places in life. What was UT thinking when they hired this unproven jack ass? Moreover, what is USC thinking now? I wouldn’t let Kiffin be responsible for my French bulldog, let alone run a prominent former prominent division one football program. You had better be thanking Daddy for your last two hires pal and probably 5 of your 7 wins last year.

I have to admit I had a case of schadenfreude like most Kentucky fans (if you didn’t then you’re not a true fan) when the countless recruiting violations, faux pas and just downright idiotic words spoken by golden boy Layne Kiffin occurred in the last year and a half. Is there anything more disturbing or awkward than listening or even looking at this guy? Well, maybe this: http://www.unlikelywords.com/2008/06/30/big-baby-davis/ .

It pains me to think but we do have a 25 game consecutive losing streak in football to the ugly Orange. But, just like Justin Beiber’s facial hair, it’s going to come — a win that is. And when it does during Operation: Win this year, there will be nothing better than to see those toothless smiles of the Big Orange fade away, although maybe Shark Week comes close.

Do I even need to mention the armed robbery by the 3 football players of the die hard Tennessee fans? Yes I do. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZzKN0VYtxc
Here is an excerpt from another interview with a victim:

Corey Zickefoose: I think they should still be able to play football, regardless. Tennessee is my place. You know, it’s my football team.

Reporter: Even after they put a gun in your face, you say let them play football?

Corey Zickefoose: Yeah. It’s Tennessee. That’s the way it is sometimes.

That’s right Corey, it’s Tennessee. And yes, that’s the way it is all the time.

NOTABLE ALUMNI

Phillip Fulmer. None.

THE OTHER BASKETBALL TEAM

It’s sad when even the women’s JV team has more notoriety than the men’s team. Yes, I admit, they have had a few good years lately, but mind you this was mostly during Clyde’s debacle. And I think the non-recruiting of Chris Lofton cursed us as well — their success all started with him it seems. But, the good thing is the brevity of their tiny success because with the arrival of the cherubic Calipari, this will all end.
Have you ever seen a team more tatted up than the men’s basketball team? They have more ink than the NY Times. And is it a requirement that a headband be worn by every player on the team? It seems they have a monopoly on those things like Zach did the friendship bracelets in Saved by the Bell’s classic The Friendship Business episode. And for God’s sake, if you’re going to wear them, wear them correctly!

In related news, Wayne Chism’s almost all the way on his head headband reports that Wayne Chism was cut by the New Jersey Nets two days ago.

And do I even need to mention the fiasco with the guns and weapons charges last year?

I’m sensing Déjà Vu here. Not a good trend to have (unless you’re Steven Pearl and get playing time as a direct result). You’re supposed to learn from the football teams mistakes, not repeat them. Someone should tell Pearl’s team that.

Please, someone tell Bruce to give it a rest. We know you’re outgoing. We know you go to the games and cheer for the women’s team. But…Is there anything scarier than a 300 pound Jewish man taking his shirt off, painting his stomach orange, running around TB Arena and screaming at the top of his lungs? Actually yes – Pat Summitt doing the same. But seriously, just calm it down a bit, Bruce. Remember, less is more.

Also, you sweat entirely too much. You sweat through your orange jacket last game faster than Boogie got his first foul. Seek medical advice — you seem to be Old Spice intolerant.

THE FANS

UT fans are some of the most annoying out there. I know this first hand because I grew up on the Tennessee — Kentucky border and knew way too many of them. If you ever go to Thompson Bowling Arena you’ll see more holes in the Vols’ mouths than the plot of the LOST finale.

I literally have a friend from high school who has trouble putting his underwear on straight. 95% of the time it’s either on inside out or backwards or the elastic band is flipped over or a combination of the above. I know this because 100% of the time his shirt is conspicuously tucked inside of them. He is a Vols fan.

To quickly conclude I have an analogy.
Kentucky is to the John Wall dance as Tennessee is to this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ00laVt62c&feature=related.

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TERESA EVERSOLE:

Just some of the hottest fraternity boys UT has to offer

Just some of the hottest fraternity boys UT has to offer


Just a couple of the hottest fraternity guys UT has to offer…..

Tennessee Orange: Sucking Since 1794

There have always been more cons than pros when it came to being a fan of the University of Tennessee. But this season took it to a whole new level. Instead of dealing out passes and setting screens, Tyler Smith and his boys got busted dealing pot and smiling for mug shots. There was, at least, one positive that came out of all this. By the end of the season, UT had implemented the best honor system in the SEC. The Vols have a serious commitment to making sure that their athletes always remember to say “Yes, your honor” and “No, your honor.”

Maybe it’s the geographic closeness? Maybe it’s the chance to see cheerleaders with all their teeth? But for some reason, the University of Tennessee insists on considering itself a true rival of the University of Kentucky. In return, Kentucky fans tolerate them with an equal mix of pity and ridicule.

Let’s start with their coach, the lovely, charming and photogenic Bruce Pearl. With his hire, came tons of possible jokes about certain types of “necklaces.” I won’t be repeating any of them since someone reading this might be eating and the idea of Brucie and, well, any of his bodily fluids, makes me throw up in my mouth a little. To compare Brucie Boy to Cal, is kind of like comparing a Pinto to a BMW. They both may get you to where you want to go eventually, but one smells bad, takes his shirt off and paints his hairy chest orange. The other is total package of charm, class and style. If for any reason you need to be told which coach falls into which category, there is a short bus full of helmets and crayons waiting to take you back to Knoxville.

Tennessee fans love to brag about the fact that they’ve beaten UK 20+ times in a row in football and how much UK fans must love to hear them fire up “Rocky Top” as they score touchdown after touchdown on the football Cats. This is always a great time to look at the poor, befuddled orange wearing soul and ask them if they realize that their precious “Rocky Top” was made famous by two good ol’ boys from Leslie County, Kentucky. It’s at this point that they will likely stare at you with a blank look on their faces. Don’t be alarmed, that’s just the way that they look at most bright and shiny objects.

It’s no secret that UT fans brag that football is the school’s best sport and that is understandable. I can’t imagine too many of Tennessee’s Dixie flag bearing brethren are down with the fact that the floor at Thompson-Boling is named after a woman. But let’s compare the hardware won by their best program (football) to UK’s best (basketball). The football program won its last national championship in 1998, just like the UK men’s basketball program. Total NCAA titles for the football Vols? Six. Total NCAA titles for the basketball Cats? Seven. Be very patient with the Tennessee fan you’re arguing with when you bust out this little statistic. See, we UK fans take for granted little things like the whole seven is greater than six. UT fans will likely need a minute to count, compute, and compare using their fingers and toes.

Another little known fact is that the campus of UT-Knoxville actually lays claim to a national championship in men’s basketball. In March 2009, UT’s athletic department announced it would claim the 1916 National Title. Hey, if you can’t win them, just go around and claim them! If it’s that easy, maybe Kentucky can just go back and claim that the Laettner shot in 1992 didn’t happen. Or better yet, maybe UK can claim that the Billy Clyde era never really happened.

Fake national titles aren’t the only source of pride for the Vols. Just take a look at the recent alumni they can boast about when recruiting the five star players. One great example is Tyler Smith. What high school kid in his right mind would want to be like John Wall and sign a multimillion dollar shoe contract when you can commit a couple of felonies and sign a probation contract? Tennessee has had a few notable NBA players like Bernard King but currently it appears that just as UK is sending five players out the door to the pros, UT is recruiting five to be their next cons.

As a final thought, I have to admit back in my college days, I did a little experimenting like most young adults do at that age. Sure, I may have went out with an Indiana fan, kissed a Duke fan, and even toyed briefly with the idea of going to law school at Louisville. But I always knew that the one thing that would never be tolerated would be my bringing home a UT fan. Those are just the standards we Kentucky girls keep, and like my Daddy always taught me: “Nothing sucks like Tennessee Orange.”

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DEKE:

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Tennessee–I would rather take shots of Clorox than lose to you

I’m not sure what it is, but something about Lane Kiffin’s face makes me want to punch it. Hard. Over and over again until that little shit has to move to LA for plastic surgery (well, that happened). Maybe it’s because Precious has done more for birth control than he has done as a head football coach. Maybe it’s because he has a hot wife that, without his millions, the closest he could get to her would be in a smut magazine reserved for naughty time. Or maybe it’s because he is a daddy’s boy. All I know is I loathe him. When Kiffin and his jive talking act arrived in Knoxville, I had forgotten just how much I hate Tennessee football. Thanks Lane. You were good for something. Which reminds me…

It was late November, 2001. Once upon a time, I was a young Deke, living in Nashville, immune to the puke orange tinted shade the state of Tennessee perpetually lives under. I was still drunk from the night before (Penny Beer Night on Printer’s Alley can do that to anybody) and out of clean underwear for what was sure to be another night of debauchery on 2nd Avenue later. After contemplating suicide (my hangover was that bad) versus doing my laundry for the first time in two weeks (I was 23 just living the dream), I realized Kentucky was kicking off against the vaunted, I’d-give-my-left-testicle-to-beat Tennessee Volunteers. Since all of my money went to alcohol, rent, and utilities (in that order), I realized that the only way I could watch the game was at a bar. Cable was a luxury way above my pay grade. In a moment of hazy genius, I realized I could consolidate two chores into one: head to Harvey Wallbanger’s to do laundry AND watch the game over bad food and cheap booze. Since my life has traditionally been defined as seconds of brilliance and days of drunken ignorance, I had to make this happen. I wasn’t going to miss this annual ass kicking for the first time in my life. I wouldn’t be denied.

I threw my dirty clothes into a garbage bag and headed out. The first thing my hangover and I noticed was the sea of UT checkered flags in the parking lot. It’s Harvey Wallbangers, for John Wall’s sake, not Hooter’s. Shouldn’t UT fans be congregating at a tractor pull, worshipping Fat Phil? Or pre-gaming deer hunting season? Doesn’t Pabst Blue Ribbon sponsor viewing parties? I did a head count. Deke: 1. UT fans: 100. I was Mad Max. They were Thunderdome. TWO MEN ENTER, ONE MAN LEAVE! In my UK gear, I strolled in and announced my presence with authority. I loaded my laundry, ordered a pitcher, and assumed the position for what I’m sure was going to be another “Road House”-like “I used to f*ck guys like you in prison” Tennessee raping with the Wildcats playing Jodie Foster.

As a diehard UK football fan, I’ve accepted the truth that I’m a sadist. I love torture and the agony of defeat. I love getting kicked squarely in the balls at least once a season. Yet I always come back for more. I’m a glutton for punishment. That day, I’m outnumbered like General Custer, I’m still drunk, and I’m dying to talk smack. Sadly, I can’t, not because I’m outnumbered. Not because I’m UK’s France to UT’s Germany. HOW CAN I TALK TRASH A TEAM THAT HAS BEATEN UK 16 STRAIGHT TIMES? UT fans started in before kickoff with quips like “I didn’t know UK had a football team” and “Hire Tubby to coach your team” and “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face around here” like I was in the Star Wars cantina without Obi-Won Kenobi watching my back.

It’s kickoff. Being a man of superstition, I took a good luck shot of tequila and grabbed the proverbial ankles. I’m ready. Then the strangest things started happening. We started beating the unholy hell out of UT. Dewayne “The Original Beast” Robertson owned UT’s o-line. Big Jared was on fire and playing “Operation” with UT’s secondary. Collectively, UK was in the zone. Amidst this, I decided to take a tequila shot for every UK touchdown (remember, I’m superstitious). It’s halftime. UK 21. UT 7. For the mathematically challenged, that’s three tequila shots down on top of last night’s keg I drank. I’m smashed. Let the smack talk begin!
To the Johnny Majors impersonator: “Does Travis Henry impregnate another woman every time UT gets a first down?”

To the coonskin hat wearing Bubba: “Did you skin that off a UT cheerleader’s fat ass?”
Then I proclaim: “Wait until basketball season!”

The second half started and reality set in. Casey Clausen connected with Kelly “No Future” Washington for six. Jeremy Bowie was getting drilled by Donte’ Stallworth like BP. In what only happens to UK, a German named Constantine Ritzmann recovered a fumble for a touchdown. Damn Nazis. But there’s no quit in Kentucky. Late in the 4th quarter, the defense held and forced a UT field goal. UT 38. UK 35. Now 5 tequila shots in and battling my barstool like I’m on the “Urban Cowboy” mechanical bull, I’m screaming indecipherably. We’re driving. I started believing in a merciful God. Then Chase Effing Harp gets stripped inside the Vol’s 30. UT recovered. Like I mentioned earlier, I’m a sadist.

Derek Abney couldn’t have run faster than this white boy did out of Harvey Wallbanger’s. My death was imminent. I looked for a priest for my Last Rights. I paid, peeled out like BCG leaves night golfing, and headed home. Then it hit me. I FORGOT MY LAUNDRY. I waited a couple hours and circled back. Not only was half my laundry missing, the other half was now light orange. Assholes. That’s why I’d rather take shots of Clorox than lose to Tennessee.

Unmerciful God, I hate them.

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DUSTIN SMITH:

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Tennessee Volunteers – A Love/Hate Relationship

When I found out I had to write a blog ragging on Tennessee it felt like Christmas in July. I have the same love for Tennessee as a fisherman on the Gulf has for BP; for the UK and UT rivalry mixes as well as oil and water, no pun attended. I’ve yet to come across an honest man who likes Tennessee. The only people who love Tennessee are those who live in West Virginia, because Tennessee is the only state that keeps West Virginia from being the worst state in the whole country. But Tennessee is not all that bad, I have more of love/hate relationship with them.

I hate that Tennessee can’t finish a season with more wins than players on probation.

I love Lane Kiffin…I’ve been teased by many women in my lifetime, but I’ve never been taken for the ride that Kiffin took UT fans on, only to dump them on the side of the road without even a kiss goodbye from Layla Kiffin.

I hate that Bruce Pearl beat a Mexican-Jewish team 112-13; that’s not kosher.

I love that Pat Summit has decided NOT to attend a Men’s game with her shirt off and chest painted orange.

I hate everything about the song “Rocky Top.” It must be a Lady Gaga original.

I love the definition of Rocky Top on urbandictionary.com…Rocky top is really a drink that poor white trash bought when they couldn’t afford faygo at the foodland.

I hate that I wasn’t invited to pose in front of a Lamborghini with my shirt off, belt unbuckled, and with a chain around my neck with the rest of the Tennessee Volunteers football team.

I love that the UK football team has never tried to recruit kids by posing for Auto Trader.

I hate that only a limited number of minutes in the movie The Blindside were dedicated to hating on Tennessee.

I love YouTube videos of rednecks and Wayne Chism talking about snitching.

I hate that Jodie Meeks missed five 3-pointers during the 2009 game at Tennessee and had to settle for only 54 points.

I love the C Note I won in Vegas last year betting the over of 36 times that Wayne Chism’s headband would fall off during a game.

I hate the show CSI. How else would the UT basketball team know to alter the serial number on their handguns?

I love that the great J.P. Prince finally graduated. His 9 points, 3 rebounds a game average always struck fear into me.

I hate Tennessee’s colors. It’s that throw up orange. It’s not that orange you can sit with. It’s that puke inside of a pumpkin orange. And I don’t like pumpkins. (Prop’s to everyone’s favorite gold chain wearing Alabama fan).

I love the color white as a secondary team color. (Even a dead clock gets the time right twice in a day).

I hate that Randal Cobb was born in Tennessee.

I love Randal Cobb. Literally.

I hate Smokey the coon dog. Try to bite an Auburn football player and I will reconsider my stance on this.

I love game day at Neyland stadium, the nation’s largest family reunion.

So there it is, there are many things to both love and hate about Tennessee. I hope that Bruce Pearl has many more years left of coaching at Tennessee, so that I may remain thankful that he doesn’t coach at UK. I look forward to beating Tennessee and their new head coach in football this year (I don’t know the new head coaches name and frankly I don’t care enough to look it up). Historically Kentucky has owned Tennessee in basketball while Tennessee has had the upper edge in football. However, Kentucky is on the upswing in both sports, while Tennessee attempts to mop up Kiffin’s mess and remains inferior in basketball.

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JUDGMENT DAY:

All solid takes, absolutely. Though let’s be quite honest, however, and note that it’s not terribly hard to spew off many, many words about the terrible Vols and they’re stupid sports teams, song and ridiculous mascot (dogs don’t wear suits, braniacs). But how did our bloggers do? This round is actually one of the tighter, more difficult rounds of a blogger contest I’ve ever had to judge (a notable exception being when I performed the same duty for the Rachel Ray fan site); and let me say to you all: you’re all winners. Teresa’s piece was a good old-fashioned essay of vitriol, with excellent points and a solid cadence — but ultimately it felt a little mailed-in. Deke’s jokes were par for his course, coming in loud and strong and appropriately eyebrow raising (you don’t see many Accused references) — but there have been several first-person game accounts in the competition in the past, so it didn’t exactly ring with freshness. I know you can bring it harder, Deke. Dustin had a great gimmick with his love/hate comparisons, all of which ring true, very funny and expertly agreeable. I personally felt the strongest of this heat was KL — not only because I recognize that the word schadenfreude is one sorely underutilized on this site, but because I felt he gave the single most well-rounded and consistent look at the entire Tennessee program. So one must fall, and sadly this round it will be Teresa Eversole. Teresa, your piece was great, but you were up against some stiff competition. I hope we can still be friends. As for KL, Deke and Dustin — you’re all in. Round of applause for Teresa. We’ll never forget you.

Article written by C.M. Tomlin