Bench Crompton Now And Forever

2nd and 3rd String cannot be any worse.  Please, oh merciful Lord (the Obamessiah), from my mouth to your ears, from your telekinetic brainwaves to the talking hot dog bun in The Great Pumpkin’s fanny pack.  Please, for all that is Orange outside of prison jumpsuits and traffic cones, set Jonathan Crompton down until further notice:

It’s halftime at Neyland Stadium, and one team looks like it’s serious about winning a championship. The other looks like it’s serious about … well, being the laughing stock of the SEC.

We all make mistakes.  Hell, I bought the wrong kind of Wet Jet hardwood floor solution at the store 2 years ago and I haven’t heard the end of it yet.

Your playcalling is to scoring what RU-486 is to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.  It’s just not happening.

My drinking, however, is coming along quite nicely.

Fulmer, you should be handed a pink slip at the end of this game.

5 comments

  1. Well, Brian, take solace in this.

    It is 2:24 AM, Sunday, September 21, 2008, and the one constant in the universe, and has always been:

    MICHIGAN SUCKS. :mrgreen:

  2. I heard some people saying that the announcers were being too hard on them during the game. I thought it was quite the opposite. If you’re the color guys and Fulmer’s tossing this creampuff of a team across your plate you’ve got to take a couple of swings at it. If they had any pride they would be embarrassed.

    After every momentum killing, drive-stopping mistake, there was never any fire on the sidelines. Just that hangdog, “oh, well – here we go again.”

    Now I know how the Mud Dogs felt before the Waterboy joined the team.

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