Big Cat Eyes - LSU learned to mold and channel its natural chaos

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LSU is the horde. This is their forever story; they have always been the horde. Like the Mongols, they appear seemingly out of nowhere and consume everything in their path.

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Unfair is the word, but perhaps not in the way you’re thinking. It’s a delightful, unleashed, soaring kind of unfair. Playing LSU this season was like watching your car burn down to the frame on a roadside, or witnessing a landslide casually carry an entire neighborhood into the ocean

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Joe Burrow played like kerosene. It’s how he was everywhere and spreading in all directions simultaneously, hitting every receiver on the depth chart for five, ten, twenty yards at once, less of a quarterback and more of an accelerant. He threw receivers open and burned down secondaries.

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He finished the playoffs in hundred-armed-and-levitating Doctor Strange mode: fourteen touchdowns in two games, and leading his team to a combined 105 points against the best competition the sport had to offer. That isn’t football. That is sorcery

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If the Bayou Bengals are that merry horde, then this is their zenith, summited in a rush so swift and so wildly victorious that the ride to get there, across half a world of acreage, flashed past like a momentary hallucination. For years, LSU turned off the lights, started swinging, and called that victory. Then, in Joe Burrow, the horde revealed a legitimate marvel: a captain who didn’t ever want to turn on the lights, or need to. He could already see in the dark.

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