The Unknown Writer - aTM Edition

This is amazing stuff, Gold like OBJ sneakers! Thanks for the amazing takes
I too would take some more awe shucks midwesterners, that was priceless.

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Readers have called me “dark” or “cynical” or “in need of intensive, inpatient psychiatric treatment.” They have asked me whether I was abused and, if not, whether I would like to be. I write to assure them I am perfectly fine. I may have been born in Four Down Territory and I may now be in life’s Red Zone, but I am phlegmatic and profoundly grateful for all that I have and a small portion of what I am. On Thanksgiving day, for example, I gave thanks for the people I cherish most: family, friends, and John Chavis wearing anything other than purple and gold. I rely on my family for love and devotion. I count on my friends for encouragement and support. And no matter how productive his team’s offense may be, I trust John Chavis to make his opponent’s offense even more productive. During last night’s game, when Texas A&M scored to pull within six points of LSU, I didn’t squirm. I was as confident “Third-and-Chavis” would save the Tigers as Bobby Knight was certain Dale Brown would hand the Hoosiers a tournament victory. I’m just grateful Coach Chavis makes only $1.55 million a year. With another $500,000 in the bank, Chavis could give Kim Jung Un Topeka, Kansas for Christmas. I’m thankful I never wore a visor. They look stupid, especially when crammed around an afro hairdo. The Aggies’ beleagured and besotted head coach, Kevin Sumlin, looked as if he were wearing a steel wool soufflé rising from a shallow, visored ring mold. Sumlin also looked inebriated, and he probably was. Sumlin makes pre-sober Steve Sarkisian look like Carrie Nation. I’m gratified the team of Rodgers and Hart served as the SEC Network’s game announcers. The creative duo that gave us songs like “My Funny Valentine” and “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered” was in rare form last night. Who can forget Hart’s observation when the the camera captured cheering Tiger marching band members shortly before half? Said Hart, “Leave it to the woodwind section to bring the heat.” Then Hart revealed that Aggie quarterback, Nick Starkel, wears a Justin BIeber tee-shirt beneath his uniform. And aren’t we better off for having listened to Rodgers’s analysis of Jack Gonsoulin’s poor place-kicking form? ( In truth, I had already suspected Gonsoulin’s technique was unorthodox, at best. In the slow motion replay of his first miss, Gonsoulin’s movements called to mind Joe Cocker at Woodstock.) I’m grateful for Danny Etling. Yes, I said it. This is a young man of modest talents who never wilted, bitched, or moaned under the relentless criticism of fans and analysts or the severe pain of back and other injuries. I suspect we will miss him and, if Etling and Christian LaCouture are representative of other corn-fed, Opie Taylor-looking, aw-shucksing Midwesterners, then count me in for a bushel of them. These guys played well beyond their physical capabilities and, by all accounts, they were the ideal teammates. Did you see the post-game interview of LaCouture in which, unprompted, he looked directly into the camera and encouraged recruits to sign with LSU? You can’t make this shite up. Though LSU doesn’t score nearly enough as a result of them, I’m thankful the Tigers forced four turnovers. I’m glad Cerebro is the Tigers’ Defensive Coordinator and not simply because he isn’t John Chavis. I think Cerebro is good. I just wish he’d have his bilirubin level checked. He looked a mite jaundiced to me. I’m thankful I’ll get to see Clyde Edwards-Belaire next year. As a fellow placed in the front row for every class photo, I have a soft spot for short athletes. (Jose Altuve, I’m looking at you!) Clyde is 5’8” tall in stilettos. On the one short pass he caught last night, he showed blazing speed, shiftiness, and unexpected power. Of course, the Tigers must sign a top-notch running back or two, but Clyde Edwards-Belaire will be fun to watch. Plus, he gives the team some of the surname punctuation it’s been lacking. While on the subject of gratitude-for-surnames, I thank Foster Moreau for having the last name of Moreau. We all know it should be pronounced with the accent on the first syllable, but every announcer all year has pronounced Moreau stressing the second syllable. I like this because it reminds me of the 1996 film version of The Island of Dr. Moreau starring a fat, creepy Marlon Brando as Dr. Moreau, a madman who combined the DNA of humans with other animals. And if that weren’t crazy enough, he placed the accent on the second syllable! It seems certain Matt Canada will leave LSU. I don’t know if I’m thankful for this or not. On the one hand, I was just getting used to the pre-snap square dancing. On the other hand, I was just getting used to the pre-snap square dancing. Finally, I’m thankful Odell Beckham Jr. didn’t give me a pair of his designer, gold Nike sneakers. I might wear them. With a visor.

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I LOVE YOU

BPT - yours have been among my best and fave TR “geaux to” reads this season. Please keep Unknown and his darkly funny takes with us all year. Thumbs up! And Dilly-Dilly!

it's like chicageaux on downers. wonder what he's up to these days. his mind was psychotic.

I enjoy these