Just checking.
First off, Thanksgiving Tiger Fans. I hope your turkey day will be filled with good food, friends and family. I’m and sure you are looking forward to a Saturday full of food and football just like I am.
On Thursday, I will be thankful that I am a Tiger. I hate Gamecock fans from the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry. There are probably some very nice people who are Gamecock fans. However you can take a logical and sane human being, dress him in Garnet and Black and somehow, like Gremlins being feed after night fall, they seem to turn into babbling, irrational idiots. Losing last five years has made our feathered friends ‘cocky’ beyond anything I remember in the past. I guess soiling our championship run was like a crack addict getting a two for one special. From our rivalry standpoint I understand. Let’s face it. They have been our punching bag for so long, they suffer an incurable case of insecurity.
This is Clemson and USCe week. All year long folks want to talk about this game. During the year there are a gazillion threads discussing the inane ramblings of the low bred, trailer owning, buck tooth, insecure, white trash, moronic sons-a-bitches that worship that third rate, waste of taxpayers’ money, university’s football team. Here’s what I have noticed about us Clemson fans. Slowly over the past four years, we have lost our swagger. I get it. Losing a couple of games a year and taking it on the chin with recruiting isn’t any fun. NIL, recruiting, coaching, conference realignment are all topics for another day. We need to put these subjects on the back burner for at least a week. Let’s focus on the one topic we can all get behind, our hatred of all things puke garnet. This is rivalry week. It is time to get fired up and talk trash about the low bred, trailer trash that make up the garnet industrial park faithful.
Winning cures a lot of ills. It’s time to EXPECT to win again. I don’t care what it takes but Clemson Nation needs to reach down deep again and find it’s inner-Tiger. Re-watch the 63-17 game. Pump some iron. Take a Viagra. Do whatever it takes to remember that CLEMSON is the big dog in this state.
“But Paws, they are a good team under Beamer junior.” Horse hockey. I don’t care where they are ranked. They will never have my respect. They have a lucky horse shoe up their butts. They’ve beaten a metric crap-ton of over-rated SEC teams. They beat UK: big friggin’ whoop. They played LSU close: where is LSU now? They lost close to Bama: anyone here impressed with Bama? They beat OU: who hasn’t (oh, Bama)? Is Vandy a quality win? They hammered a TAM team that everyone loved because they beat Bama. Now they lost to Auburn? They lucked out and beat Mizzou who, through some magical reason, isn’t allowed to fall out of the top 25.
Each and every one of us needs to forget the recent past. We need to reach down deep in our souls and remember our loathing for the wannabe significant, red headed step children from Columbia. It wasn’t that long ago that it was UNTHINKABLE to lose to USC. Find that distain and combine it with the unwavering passion we have for Clemson and get your Tiger Swagger back. Reach down deep. Remember Jerry Butler’s Catch. Remember David Duham’s hit. Remember Rod Garner’s catch. Remember Emory Smith rumbling down the field at Billy Brice with four chickens on his back. Remember Mark Buchholtz’s walk off kick. Remember Charlie Whitehurt’s first and 35. Remember 63-17. Remember “Never again.”
By Saturday, we all need to grow some big ole, hairy, meaty clankers. You need to stride into Death Valley at 1100 Saturday as a cat on the prowl. With a piercing glare, stare down the feather faithful with eyes that say, “I don’t give two pinches of owl dung who you’ve played. We are going to grab you by the beak, stick a claw up your butt, and rip your friggin’ head off. My advice to any chicken brave enough to enter Death Valley is to leave now before kickoff. In this way you may make it back to your Columbia trailer park in time to watch the Iron Bowl.”
F USC. All gamecock nation can line up and kiss my lily white, hairy butt. Come Saturday, I'm going to spend four quarters showing them why they should fear Death Valley. Now I can't dress out and make a tackle or catch a pass. Neither can any of you. However I fully intend to make my presence felt. My pledge to you my fellow Tigers is that for four quarters I will raise hell in Death Valley. My only fear is that my voice won't last that the entire game. I ask that you stand with me and do the same. Let's not give those puke red wearing bastards one break during the game. Our success can easily be measured: an extra timeout taken, a third down not converted, a false start, a mis-run route and a Tiger defense that plays with a little more pep. These will have an impact on the final result.
It's time to man up my Tiger friends. We screwed up two years ago in Death Valley. We missed an opportunity last year to run it up on them. We talk about this game all year round. The time for talk is over. The time for action is now. Show up. Be Loud. Wear Orange. In your mind, rub The Rock and pledge your 110%. The players will feel our passion and give the same. When the clock strikes zero at the end of the fourth quarter, there will be no doubt that right has been restored to the football universe.
So eat hearty on Thursday my Clemson friends, for Saturday we hunt. This week we are all united by the orange blood that flows through our veins. No matter if you are on the front row in Death Valley or on your couch in Seattle or at a bar in Greenville. Saturday wear orange and be loud. You may be 5000 miles away but your voice and spirit will be heard. Our focus should be on defeating the coots and moving on to the CFB. WE ARE CLEMSON NATION! Stand and be heard Saturday and with God’s Grace, the sun will rise a mighty hue of Orange on Sunday.
I look forward to celebrating a Tiger victory with you all on Saturday night.
Go Tigers.
Paws
First off, Thanksgiving Tiger Fans. I hope your turkey day will be filled with good food, friends and family. I’m and sure you are looking forward to a Saturday full of food and football just like I am.
On Thursday, I will be thankful that I am a Tiger. I hate Gamecock fans from the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry. There are probably some very nice people who are Gamecock fans. However you can take a logical and sane human being, dress him in Garnet and Black and somehow, like Gremlins being feed after night fall, they seem to turn into babbling, irrational idiots. Losing last five years has made our feathered friends ‘cocky’ beyond anything I remember in the past. I guess soiling our championship run was like a crack addict getting a two for one special. From our rivalry standpoint I understand. Let’s face it. They have been our punching bag for so long, they suffer an incurable case of insecurity.
This is Clemson and USCe week. All year long folks want to talk about this game. During the year there are a gazillion threads discussing the inane ramblings of the low bred, trailer owning, buck tooth, insecure, white trash, moronic sons-a-bitches that worship that third rate, waste of taxpayers’ money, university’s football team. Here’s what I have noticed about us Clemson fans. Slowly over the past four years, we have lost our swagger. I get it. Losing a couple of games a year and taking it on the chin with recruiting isn’t any fun. NIL, recruiting, coaching, conference realignment are all topics for another day. We need to put these subjects on the back burner for at least a week. Let’s focus on the one topic we can all get behind, our hatred of all things puke garnet. This is rivalry week. It is time to get fired up and talk trash about the low bred, trailer trash that make up the garnet industrial park faithful.
Winning cures a lot of ills. It’s time to EXPECT to win again. I don’t care what it takes but Clemson Nation needs to reach down deep again and find it’s inner-Tiger. Re-watch the 63-17 game. Pump some iron. Take a Viagra. Do whatever it takes to remember that CLEMSON is the big dog in this state.
“But Paws, they are a good team under Beamer junior.” Horse hockey. I don’t care where they are ranked. They will never have my respect. They have a lucky horse shoe up their butts. They’ve beaten a metric crap-ton of over-rated SEC teams. They beat UK: big friggin’ whoop. They played LSU close: where is LSU now? They lost close to Bama: anyone here impressed with Bama? They beat OU: who hasn’t (oh, Bama)? Is Vandy a quality win? They hammered a TAM team that everyone loved because they beat Bama. Now they lost to Auburn? They lucked out and beat Mizzou who, through some magical reason, isn’t allowed to fall out of the top 25.
Each and every one of us needs to forget the recent past. We need to reach down deep in our souls and remember our loathing for the wannabe significant, red headed step children from Columbia. It wasn’t that long ago that it was UNTHINKABLE to lose to USC. Find that distain and combine it with the unwavering passion we have for Clemson and get your Tiger Swagger back. Reach down deep. Remember Jerry Butler’s Catch. Remember David Duham’s hit. Remember Rod Garner’s catch. Remember Emory Smith rumbling down the field at Billy Brice with four chickens on his back. Remember Mark Buchholtz’s walk off kick. Remember Charlie Whitehurt’s first and 35. Remember 63-17. Remember “Never again.”
By Saturday, we all need to grow some big ole, hairy, meaty clankers. You need to stride into Death Valley at 1100 Saturday as a cat on the prowl. With a piercing glare, stare down the feather faithful with eyes that say, “I don’t give two pinches of owl dung who you’ve played. We are going to grab you by the beak, stick a claw up your butt, and rip your friggin’ head off. My advice to any chicken brave enough to enter Death Valley is to leave now before kickoff. In this way you may make it back to your Columbia trailer park in time to watch the Iron Bowl.”
F USC. All gamecock nation can line up and kiss my lily white, hairy butt. Come Saturday, I'm going to spend four quarters showing them why they should fear Death Valley. Now I can't dress out and make a tackle or catch a pass. Neither can any of you. However I fully intend to make my presence felt. My pledge to you my fellow Tigers is that for four quarters I will raise hell in Death Valley. My only fear is that my voice won't last that the entire game. I ask that you stand with me and do the same. Let's not give those puke red wearing bastards one break during the game. Our success can easily be measured: an extra timeout taken, a third down not converted, a false start, a mis-run route and a Tiger defense that plays with a little more pep. These will have an impact on the final result.
It's time to man up my Tiger friends. We screwed up two years ago in Death Valley. We missed an opportunity last year to run it up on them. We talk about this game all year round. The time for talk is over. The time for action is now. Show up. Be Loud. Wear Orange. In your mind, rub The Rock and pledge your 110%. The players will feel our passion and give the same. When the clock strikes zero at the end of the fourth quarter, there will be no doubt that right has been restored to the football universe.
So eat hearty on Thursday my Clemson friends, for Saturday we hunt. This week we are all united by the orange blood that flows through our veins. No matter if you are on the front row in Death Valley or on your couch in Seattle or at a bar in Greenville. Saturday wear orange and be loud. You may be 5000 miles away but your voice and spirit will be heard. Our focus should be on defeating the coots and moving on to the CFB. WE ARE CLEMSON NATION! Stand and be heard Saturday and with God’s Grace, the sun will rise a mighty hue of Orange on Sunday.
I look forward to celebrating a Tiger victory with you all on Saturday night.
Go Tigers.
Paws
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