Just what does the pink sign in the photo say?
a) TIGER - Need 2 tix for Bobby Bowden New Year's Day finale. Call me Jennie 867-5309.
b) TIGER - Gator Bowl, Vegas club, or a $5,000 room. Your choice. Call me Barely Dressed.
c) TIGER - I look like the White House party crasher chick. Call me Desperate.
Answer: all of the above.
I am such a dweeb. Even after this week, to me Florida was synonymous with space. No, not the space Elin needs for her back-swing. And, not space, the final frontier. Tiger has no final frontier as a golfer or a reproductive being. We have come to expect that much.
I mean, space shuttle, moon launches, godspeed. Alan Sheppard, Neil Armstrong, Christa McAuliffe.
That's all changed.
I think Florida and I see in my mind's eye a random "playa" and a college football bowl game selling out. I see one huge waxed-up screw.
First, let me get to Bobby Bowden by addressing Tiger. Eldrick is a billionaire at his life's peak in all regards and has thereby foregone any heartfelt promises and other beyond-worldly commitments he has made to chase leg.
It doesn't get any more succinct, or perhaps pathetic, than that.
Now, it gets complicated.
You got the octogenarian football coach basically being forced out of his profession by those who think he has gone beyond his useful life.
That call is way above my paygrade, but work with me.
Every icon is due a final farewell party, and that party must be held within the boundaries of said icon's state.
Don't ask me who in the hell said that.
There is an obscure rule in the agreement between the Atlantic Coast Conference and the Gator Bowl that has allowed several teams with better records to be bypassed in favor of a team that is bowl-eligible by the skin of its collective butts.
I'm a smart guy and I've read the media account of this tripe and I swear I don't fully understand it. But, hey.
The final analysis is: West Virginia, nine wins, three losses, coached by a man who was coached by the icon, will knowingly walk into the hornet's nest that is Florida State, six wins, six losses, coached by the icon himself.
So, you've spent parenthood preaching to your children "that's why they play the game."
Then explain away the 2010 Gator Bowl.
You may comment to your heart's desire on this one. Please. You can defend Bobby, the Gator Bowl, and damn my West Virginia fandom feelings to hell. I don't care. I don't care because you suffer nothing less than cognitive dissonance if you honestly think this bogus Gator Bowl setup is good for college football.
Then we'll talk about how the proponents of the Bowl Championship Series are deathly frightened of TCU.