For years objectivity has precluded this squalid little corner of the Internet from embracing a team. No favorites here. We root for the games, we cheer for the entertainment, and we bask in the knowledge that rich, stupid and arrogant folks will keep us from having nothing to write.
Well, times change, and needs must be met when the devil throws up into your kettle. So we have a favorite team now, and it beats your team all to hell, every time, every way.
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Well, that's not the school's real name. It's actually "Title Vacated Agricultural Mining And Casino Management," or TVA&M for short. And we are on a roll, damn it.
We are about to win the 2004 college football championship. We are closing in on 2011, and there are several others well within our grasp. We, in short, are kicking ass, and we're doing it the old-fashioned way -- by sitting back and letting them fall into our laps like ceiling stucco in an earthquake.
We're about to own USC's title, and that's a fact. The Trojans never saw us coming, but we are finishing up stomping the hell of them. Reggie Bush? Please. We beat him and never left the couch. Ohio State’s Big 10 title in 2008? We bought all those rings, so you can't prove we didn't win it. Cam Newton? We're coming for you, too.
To summarize, yay us!
And do you know how we're doing it? Easy. We sit back and let human nature and the essential kleptocracy and salve-running environment of college sports take its inevitable course. We have no students, we have no stadium, we have no coaches, no TV deals, no band, no fight song, no cheerleaders shot from below by those helpful network cameramen, no alums, no street agents, no rapacious parents or guardians. Hell, we have no infrastructure of any kind. We don't need anything like that.
All we need is for the system to stay gloriously, amorally unchanged, and we win. And right now, we are kicking ass.
USC lost to us without us even changing out of our sweats. In fact, we have it on good authority from the executive director of the Bowl Championship Series, Bill Hancock, that we won fair and square.
"If USC loses the appeal, the  championship will be vacated. And the feeling is in our group, the commissioners group, is that there was not a game, no game happened."
"They [the commissioners] will vacate, they will not elevate anyone," referring to the 12 school presidents who make up the BCS Oversight Committee. "The presidents could decide to do something else, but I think it's most likely that they will vacate it."
That's us! TVA&M! We kicked tail, and we don't even have any names to take! Now send us our crystal football and our check, and we'll go back to non-work waiting for the next game you say never happened. Because those are the ones at which we excel.
You think Nick Saban and Jim Tressel and all those other sub-psychotic stress monkeys enjoy what they're doing? Film study, recruiting trips, posing for statues, dealing with your agents while decrying those of the kids who call at 3 a.m. telling you why you need to bail them out of a jail you never heard of because that girl’s lying, or schmoozing rich arrogant toads who want their check heard and heeded?
Please. They'd kill for our guy's job. We'd let you talk to him, but he went out for a pack of smokes about 15 years ago. He'll be right back.
But if he's not, who cares? We just know he's a winner, and he just won us another one. And if we stay the course, doing nothing, knowing our athletic director isn't stupid, and our president isn't an amoral hyena, and our top donors wouldn't sell children's hospitals to Jiffy Lube with your tax money and then take the write-off, we're going to remain golden.
So we invite any and all media sleuths and NCAA gumshoes to study our operation and the way we get things done. Any time, day or night. But we're going to get paid for it. A six-pack something amber and frothy, some AAA batteries to keep the remote fired up, maybe a nice tri-tip in case we get hungry watching a game on that we eventually want to seize, and we're good to go.
You can't catch us. You can't stop us. And you can't even be us. We don't sell sweatshirts, that's how exclusive we are. You start selling stuff, you get ambitions, and you get ambitions, you get to cheating, and you get to cheating, you get caught, and you get caught and ...
We win again. Still unbeaten, still untied. Not to be obnoxious, but damn, we're good and getting better every day. Oh, and don't try to schedule us, either. We'll find you.
Ray Ratto is a columnist for Comcast SportsNet Bay Area.com