Despite a flawless game plan, imaginative and opportunistic play-calling, and a stunning sideline presence in purple water-proof windbreaker (despite no chance of wind or water in the Georgia Dome) and a coaching cap peaked to record heights, LSU Head Coach Les Miles could not overcome the forces of nature combined against him in the Peach-Fillet Bowl. First, a critical drive by the Clemson Tigers was kept alive by questionable pass interference calls, Revenge, no doubt, by the Big 10 officiating crew still smarting from the spurning of the Conference by Coach Les Miles decision to turn his back on Michigan because of his deep and abiding love for the damn strong young men of Louisiana (and not one flop among them I might add). Then the man-among-boys Barkevious Mingo, unstoppable by the Carolina mountain men, was felled by an opponent fiercer than the Tigers from the other Death Valley - idled by an insidious choleric toxin: Norovirus, diarrhea, the runs. The dreaded Squirts. While Mingo had the Clemson offensive line figuratively shitting in their pants, poor Mingo was sidelined by literally shitting in his pants. Oh, the irony! But in the final analysis, it was Clemson's quarterback Tahj Boyd who had the performance of a lifetime, his moment in the sun coaxed from those shifty feet and ebony frame by the opportunity to match wits with the legendary Les Miles. It is the curse of greatness, Tiger fans, and we must live with it as long as the Fickle Fates of Football allow our sideline to be graced by a presence in the mold of Rockne, Bryant and (dare I say it) Schembechler. We will always get the best our opponents have to offer, for that gridiron gladiator will want to one day have his grandchild sit upon his knee and be able to reminisce about that glorious day long ago when Grandpa vanquished the legendary Mad Hatter.

G. Ellwood (Baby Doc) Fenton
Chief Executive Officer
Piney Woods Publishing Company