It's game time. The BCS title tilt between Florida and Oklahoma is ready cause more ruckus than a $50 billion Ponzi scheme.
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That means we need quality journalists to capture the essence of the action. Undoubtedly, media credentials have been issued to dozens of the sharpest sports reporters and columnists in the country.
But the press box also will be infested with its share of hacks. They know how to camouflage their bad writing thanks to pack mentality. If everyone writes the same story, no one can be wrong -- right?
Trust me, getting some of these clowns to come up with a clever turn of phrase is harder than sneaking a laptop satchel full of cocaine past Miami Airport security.
So as a journalism public service, this column is dedicated to all you writers who didn't do your homework and will need help forming analogies for these potent offenses who race up and down the field like bad writers scrambling for that last ice cream cookie sandwich in the media food lounge.
What the Sooners are like
Quarterback Sam Bradford won the Heisman. The offense has scored at least 60 points for, let's see, how many games in a row? OK, I'll admit. I've done no homework in scouting the Oklahoma offense. But I do know that in the Big 12 title game the Sooner Schooner got stuck on the field while celebrating a touchdown. It's what we in the football-entertainment-snafu-reporting business call "a wheel malfunction."
What the Gators are like
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| Another BCS Title and fans may begin to forget the name Spurrier altogether. (Getty Images) |
For example, Florida State coach Bobby Bowden compared Tim Tebow to Bronko Nagurski. That's fine and all, except the 79-year-old Seminoles coach obviously has no idea that no college football fan under 25 has any idea who George Washington or Christopher Columbus are, so how are they going to know that Nagurski cracked skulls for Minnesota in the 1920s and the Chicago Bears in the '30s? For my money as a football historian, you'll never see a linebacker corps as fierce as the one the Bears fielded in 1934 when Nagurski, George Washington and Christopher Columbus broke the single-season record for sacks and crossings of the Atlantic Ocean.
Then there's the CBS Sports SEC broadcast team of Verne Lundquist and Gary Danielson. They've covered the Florida Gators so many times in the past three years, they're practically beat reporters. They deliver precise analysis for Florida's rivalry smack-offs.
Good example: During Florida's opening drive in the SEC title game against Alabama, Danielson described the Gators' triple-option running attack as being akin to a game of three-card Monte. I like it. It indicates successful deception, a scheme that wins every time.
But Danielson misfired during the South Carolina game a few weeks earlier in The Swamp. He was comparing the versatility of the Gators' offensive pieces to the strategery associated with different chess pieces:
"Their chessboard for Florida, they've got two queens, Percy Harvin and Tebow. They can go anywhere. Then they got all these rooks and bishops. They don't have any pawns. That's no fair."
Uh ... Mr. Danielson? I know what you're trying to say. But I think you're confusing the guy who just turned on his TV and hears you describe Harvin and Tebow as "two queens." Next thing he's wondering is when do "check and mate" get in the picture.
They're like fast cars
Nothing captures speed and power like comparing something to a sports car:
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| They have plenty of speed, but Harvin is the Gators' most important speedster. (Getty Images) |
• Chris Rainey has four touchdowns on 655 yards rushing. Let's call him a Porsche that just burned past you on I-95 when you could have sworn there was no one in your rear view mirror when you checked a split second before.
• Brandon James has scored two touchdowns on punt returns. Eventually he'll run one back on a kickoff that won't be called back because of a holding penalty. He's a racing motorcycle crotch rocket. Take your pick on the brands. Maybe Honda for punt returns, Yamaha for kickoffs.
• Percy Harvin has raced to the end zone 14 games in a row. He has nine rushing touchdowns on 538 yards and seven receiving touchdowns on 595 rushing yards. The Gators' Lamborghini has been cleared by the mechanics, and ready to take advantage of the fact that gas is under $1.60 a gallon.
• We all know Tim Tebow looks like an Escalade. But he's actually a Transformer. When he's barreling toward you, look out for that giant mechanical arm that comes out of nowhere and smashes you in the solar plexus.
They're like dangerous guns
No need for a concealed weapons permit. The shooting gallery is ready to open fire. After this season's perceived Heisman snub, Tebow is a bazooka that can be fired by King Kong. If USC-transfer Emmanuel Moody is a Glock, then Percy Harvin is an AK-47.
Actually, considering how offensive lineman Ronnie Wilson once fired an AK-47 in a Gainesville parking lot, let's skip the gun analogies.
They cut like a knife
When Florida knives slice and dice, the competition's payin' the price. But the Gator offense doesn't need a Ginsu to slice through tomato cans.
They're like a hot knife through butter. Their option attack is a Swiss Army knife by way of Gainesville, Fla. And when the refs aren't looking, the receivers have been known to stick a shiv in a defender to gain separation.
If you have trouble working through analogies for steak knives, Bowie knives and butcher knives on your cutting board, you can always fall back on the escalating scale of the riff in that dopey scene in "Crocodile" Dundee.
Sure, a defender might have a knife. Your job as a journalist is to point out "That's not a knife ... Aaron Hernandez is a knife!" But wait ... "Aaron Hernandez is not a knife ... Louis Murphy is a knife!" Not so fast -- "Louis Murphy is not a knife ..." And so on.
Except you can't use Tebow in this analogy. He saves his knives for circumcisions only.
Bonus: They're like the Rat Pack
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| Sinatra would be a tough player to coach since he always has to do it his way. (Getty Images) |
And I'm thinking: How has no one made this pop culture connection before? We should be past calling Tebow The Chosen One. If he beats the Sooners, he's the new Chairman of the Board.
Yep, Ol' Orange and Blue Eyes is back. And when the Gator offense takes the field, writers should call them Tebow's 11.
You've got Percy Harvin as Dean Martin, Brandon James as Sammy Davis Jr. ... and well, someone almost as old as Bobby Bowden can figure out how the rest of the classic '60s cast fills out.
Here's the plot for the BCS title game: "Big Game" Bob Stoops has come to South Florida to muscle in on the casinos. After tailgating Gators fans cause drunken distractions simultaneously at the Seminole Hard Rock Casino in Hollywood and the Miccosukee Resort in Miami, Tebow's 11 takes the field at Dolphin Stadium and plays lights out to pinch the crystal trophy.
Just make sure there's a scene where a member of the Sooner defense gets fleeced at a three-card Monte table.
