One, that UCLA has proven it is a world beater because LSU looks suspiciously weak to me this year. Second, That Oregon has also not yet proven to me at least that it is a world beater either because I am yet to be persuaded that Ohio State is quite up to snuff this year. And thirdly, that Urban Meyers "no chance" statements concerrning coming to USC are in the slightest convincing but rather, on the other hand, absurdly underwhelming.
I don't get why so many take his words on face value, since when in the past have his denials EVER been proven, at bottom, solid or resolute? I just saw a big blowup of his denial on you tube, and he not only stares down at his shoes for most of his "no chance" double talk, it is almost impossible to clearly hear his followup balderdash about wanting to turn Jaguars into some sort of perennial NFL juggernaut, or whatever, which I do NOT believe HE believes for one freaking second.
He mumbles all this so inaudibly that it is almost comical. Plus, I have never seen Urban look so profoundly unhappy and depressed when uttering ANYTHING. I think he HATES his current gig. I think it SADDENS him painfully when he ponders what a delectable chance he missed out on at USC, largely because of the dreadfully pushy and woke and P.C. and atrociously football IGNORANT Carrol Folt, whose days, happily, might just be numbered now at USC. In any case she seems to have fallen off her erstwhile bullsh*t high horse to a significant extent. So Mike Bohn, stay ON this freaking dude like his shadow. Enormous cracks are ALREADY evident in his conspicuously tepid "denial"
I believe he is secretly dying to say YES to you, Mike Bohn, and to have the delicious chance to farm the richest recruiting grounds in all creation like a freaking god and to tower over all other coaches in college football history to the extent that he can become the SOLE college coach to have won a natty at THREE DIFFERENT VENUES. Even Nick Saban cannot claim to have done THAT. You think that doesn't haunt the nooks and crannies of his soul? You think it more fun for him, more satisfying, to get humiliatingly pummelled from pillar to post in the No Fun League on a butt ugly doormat of a team lying in some remote and irrelevant outpost of rednecked nowheresville, when his wife loves the sparkle and weather and excitement of L.A.?
I don't get why so many take his words on face value, since when in the past have his denials EVER been proven, at bottom, solid or resolute? I just saw a big blowup of his denial on you tube, and he not only stares down at his shoes for most of his "no chance" double talk, it is almost impossible to clearly hear his followup balderdash about wanting to turn Jaguars into some sort of perennial NFL juggernaut, or whatever, which I do NOT believe HE believes for one freaking second.
He mumbles all this so inaudibly that it is almost comical. Plus, I have never seen Urban look so profoundly unhappy and depressed when uttering ANYTHING. I think he HATES his current gig. I think it SADDENS him painfully when he ponders what a delectable chance he missed out on at USC, largely because of the dreadfully pushy and woke and P.C. and atrociously football IGNORANT Carrol Folt, whose days, happily, might just be numbered now at USC. In any case she seems to have fallen off her erstwhile bullsh*t high horse to a significant extent. So Mike Bohn, stay ON this freaking dude like his shadow. Enormous cracks are ALREADY evident in his conspicuously tepid "denial"
I believe he is secretly dying to say YES to you, Mike Bohn, and to have the delicious chance to farm the richest recruiting grounds in all creation like a freaking god and to tower over all other coaches in college football history to the extent that he can become the SOLE college coach to have won a natty at THREE DIFFERENT VENUES. Even Nick Saban cannot claim to have done THAT. You think that doesn't haunt the nooks and crannies of his soul? You think it more fun for him, more satisfying, to get humiliatingly pummelled from pillar to post in the No Fun League on a butt ugly doormat of a team lying in some remote and irrelevant outpost of rednecked nowheresville, when his wife loves the sparkle and weather and excitement of L.A.?
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