College Football Brought To You By Captain America

College football is perhaps the most analyzed, scrutinized and agonized- over sport in the United States. If there is any interesting editorial angle to approach when dissecting the nuances of the game, it has probably been done, and probably by someone much less attractive and knowledgeable than yourself, and probably from his mom’s basement in his piss stained underwear. And he probably got paid to do it. But I digress.
The buildup to every week’s game far exceeds the interest of what finally happens on the field on Saturday on a national level, and that’s one of the reasons I love it. Every game, every week, is big and worth hours of discussion to someone. But when it comes down to it, only your game - and your team - determines your mood the following day - unless your team is in the SEC, college football’s equivalent of a Marxist regime where the success of the collective is equal, in the minds of its unquestioning minions, to the success of the individual (and in the end, everyone winds up poor, looking like an asshole, and hated by the rest of the world).

Well, I want to change that. If you find excitement about predicting wins and losses, why should you not also have interest in predicting an appropriate emotional connection to your teams predicted success? I believe you can and should feel pre-emptive pride or shame on your school based on how important the rest of the world feels you are, thereby lessening the blow when you are laughed at, heckled, or belittled at the water cooler by the fat, miserable ex-”athletes ‘” in your miserable little office when you bring up your team in conversation (although if you’re reading this I doubt you’re employed). I, with my great foresight and benevolence, want to give you a chance to feel badly about how shitty your team is in the eyes of the world before the first kick. I am calling it Pride in University Sport’s teams: a Scientific Yardstick or “The P.U.S.S.Y. Quotient”, and it works like this:

Collegiate Athletic Directors release the scheduled match-ups for their sporting events years in a advance for a variety of fairly obvious logistical reasons, but for top tier programs and middling, under-achiever schools like Georgia, TV scheduling plays an important role. Your job as a scheduler is to maximize your program’s exposure potential week in and week out by finding compelling opponents, and playing them at optimum times on popular networks, thereby increasing your team’s profile to fans and recruits. Or you can be Notre Dame, whose worldwide popularity, even in lean times, could turn the Oprah Network into a heavy hitter.

Therefore, I theorize that you can determine the national esteem of your program based upon a simple scanning of your local Saturday TV Guide. Your time slot, network, national availability and even announcing team is an excellent barometer to whether or not you should be proud of your team, or ashamed to wear their gaudy colors and repeat their annoying catch-phrase in public. Let’s take a brief look at this week’s lineup as a run-through test of this theory:

ALL TIMES EASTERN

(Note, I am only counting Saturday because college football on other nights, though completely awesome, is fucked up. Don’t these kids have classes to attend?)

NOON:

If your game is on at noon, you should stop reading this article. Chances are you have a vagina just like your team captain, and you will break into tears when you learn that you are at the very bottom of this shit heap. First off, real football fans are doing all kinds of different things at noon on Saturday, and watching your crap team is not one of them. These include walking home from wherever they passed out the night before, sleeping, or furiously masturbating to a homemade photoshopped picture of Erin Andrews and Jen Brown in a feathery pillow fight before the real games start.

I learned all I need to know about noon games the one day I bothered to switch over from an intensely more interesting English soccer match (which speaks volumes) to assess one of my team’s future opponents and weekly noon game participant Purdue. Unless you went to Purdue, it is easy to forget that they have an athletics program. When people find out that Drew Brees graduated from Purdue, the usual response is “Are you fucking serious?!?!?!” Anyway, Purdue games draw a female play by play announcer that I have never seen, but am quite sure is on par with Billie Jean King and Mary Carillo on the Rosie O’Donnell femininity scale. Football is for men. Female sideline reporters are there to ogle and not listen to, although some of the more attractive ones are also really sharp and knowledgeable (I’m not looking at you, Holly Rowe). The booth is where former players and coaches live. If you are being play by played by a woman, you lose, jackass. Same goes for playing at noon.

Your P.U.S.S.Y. quotient: 5

2:00PM

I had no idea there was a 2PM game. This week it involves Air Force. Big props for killing terrorists, low props for sucking at football. Next!

Your P.U.S.S.Y. quotient: 5

3:30PM

This is where the action starts. The real fans are out, their stomachs are filled with chicken wings or bratwurst, their kids are with a baby-sitter they secretly want to finger bang, or napping, and it is socially acceptable to be drunk by now. The biggest games, aside from the really special events, are now. But be careful and know your station. Remember that there are two teams playing these games, and the 3:30 slot can’t always be for both of them. For instance, if, say, Purdue turns up at 3:30, you can rest assured that they are the Washington Nationals of the week, and their opponent is the Harlem Globetrotters. Put your dick back in your pants and sit down, pussy.

Your P.U.S.S.Y. quotient: 1



4:00, 4:45 and 6:00PM

See 2:00PM, but substitute “Air Force” with “BYU”. Also, TBA is not one of the Turner Networks. It’s “media lingo” for “nobody gives a shit”. People are home now, eating dinner and telling their wives they will be home in time to tuck in little Johnny, and yes that is a euphemism. For sex.

Your P.U.S.S.Y. quotient: 4

7:00PM and 8:00PM

Prime Time, my friends. This is for the big boys, but only if you’re on a major network. In many cases, the entire day of hype and coverage is leading up to one of these marquee match-ups. I really don’t think anyone needs an explanation of this concept. Seinfeld wasn’t on at 5PM for a reason (or for Purdue fans, Glee). This is when the world’s eyes are on you. Even if the world is on a hot date, he is looking over his best girl’s shoulder and watching his pig-skinned mistress while she yaps endlessly about her feelings. You are the elite. You may talk trash, my friend. Your school is awesome.

Your P.U.S.S.Y. quotient: 0

9:00PM and Later

Your shitty school is on the left coast, and your stadium is only full if Hollywood liberals think it will be a good photo-op. There are exceptions of course, like Oregon and USC before them, but they seem to get their real tests out of conference and therefore in the part of the country that reads its football schedule in Eastern time and translates. Usually a big game by a team out West is played in the local time afternoon slot. For the most part, if you’re on this late, you might suck.

Your P.U.S.S.Y. quotient: 6 - I’ll bet you thought 5 was the highest, right?

Hawaii

Nobody likes the Flaming Rainbows or whatever the fuck they’re called, but finding football on TV at midnight is awesome and thus Hawaii is awesome. Even if they did possibly give birth to Obama, we’re cool because they also gave birth to Manti Te’o, Kona Schwenke and Marisa Miller. Aloha, you’re cool. Talk all you want about your team, because all people care about is the weather and the weed. You will be liked.

Your P.U.S.S.Y. quotient: N/A

So there we go. Enjoy this, test it, play with it, modify it, or ignore it. I really don’t give a shit. Again, it’s just a theory but it’s a pretty damn good one because I am really fucking smart and good looking. And I have a big dick.

Now go buy one of these fantastic t-shirts.

Also, all apologies to Purdue and their fans. Just kidding, you suck.

Love,

Captain America