Football Preview Post

Nothing says "it's time for football" better than a message like this.

From: Eddie Sent: Thursday, August 31, 2006 2:37 PM To: Ben Schultz Subject: Ben, Ben, Did I commit to cooking next week?...if I did, I retract my commitment to cooking.I am however committed to being a sloppy drunk...seriously, can you cook next week and I'll do the arizona game unless of course I call you drunk again this weekend and commit to cooking fried armadillo

Jeez Ed, I don't care about when I cook, but lay off the sauce when operating that complicated email software. There's just so much that's wrong with that message that I don't know where to begin, starting with the fact that next week is the Arizona game. And how about a subject line that has something to do with the subject of the message? I already knew it was intended for me.

So anyway, I'm frying the armadillo on Saturday the ninth. If you've forgotten the location, here's a map.

I'm really looking forward to it all this year. Last year, the tailgate regulars were scarce, as the hurricane had them scattered all over the place. Eddie didn't make it out other than one short appearance, as he failed to count months correctly and ended up with a newborn right in time for football season. So we're long overdue for a good throwdown.

Today is that first day of the year where the summer humidity is gone. This is unusually early, but so so nice. There's also a breeze. I can't remember an August 31 where it seems like it would be nice to sit outside, but today is the first. We probably won't have weather like this again for three more weeks, at least.

Getting back to football, I like the way LSU's season shapes up. The toughest game early in the season is a visit to Auburn, but Auburn is installing a new defense, and we'll be the first major college challenge. If this game were late in the season, I would worry, but I think they will blow a coverage or two, and the talented Tigers (as opposed to the War Eagle Plainsman Tigers) will make them pay.

I am so extremely happy to be sailing again for the fall. It usually works out that I catch at least half of the Saints games on the radio from the sailboat, and with almost every game at noon on Sunday, this season promises to be no different. I'm a fan, so I'm able to convince myself that the Saints have a shot at the playoffs every year. But every year they become a minor embarrassment. (At least we don't have a quarterback who laughs at his interceptions any more. That should make it a little better.)

Speaking of sailing -- and I'm off on a tangent now -- I just took a call from Mrs. theskinnyonbenny to let me know that she had obtained new boat insurance. After a couple of queries about how much they're sticking us for and what a hassle it was to get insurance for a boat that was previously totaled by a hurricane, I concluded my questioning. She wrapped up with a deadpan, "So I guess you can go ramming other boats willy-nilly now."

Liability insurance is nice.

On to my predictions:

LSU: 10-2 regular season. The tigers lose at least one of the games that they should win (Arizona, Ole Miss, Kentucky, or Fresno State), and one where the game could go either way (Auburn, Florida, Tennessee, or Alabama. I'll go ahead and hesitantly throw Arkansas into this category too). They sneak into the SEC championship against Georgia or Florida, win that, and take care of business in the first post-Katrina Sugar Bowl.

Saints: 8-8. The Saints back door into the playoffs when three other teams choke and collapse during the last two weeks of the regular season.

My response to Eddie's message was this:

From: Ben Sent: Thursday, August 31, 2006 2:39 PM To: Eddie Subject: RE: Ben, Are you drunk now? Next week is the Arizona game. I'll fry the armadillo though. Doesn't matter to me.

To which he responded,

From: Eddie Sent: Thursday, August 31, 2006 2:41 PM To: Ben Subject: RE: Ben, no, but i'm naked .... Sincerely, Floyd Cramer

I guess that's probably not funny to anyone but us. We've just always thought that it was funny to work a naked (or sometimes a masturbating) Floyd Cramer into conversation.