Let all the Bulldog faithful rally behind the men who now wear the red and black with two words, two simple words which express the sentiments of the entire Bulldog Nation: Auburn Sucks.
— Message Board Geniuses (@BoardGeniuses) June 2, 2026
You blew leads when you needed to win 1 game and then go on a rant about UGA. They obsess over us even when we’re not part of the game.
That walk off home run reminded me of this:
It’s just like when the swallows return to San Juan Capistrano … Fech fans go back to their “champions of life” copium. You would think with all their millionaires they could find a few to fund their athletic and NIL programs. Maybe that’ll happen when cricket and Quidditch become full college sports.
Meanwhile on the baseball forum at StinkTalk, the geniuses need their snowflake safe place:
So, no, it’s not Fernando going for an extra year of eligibility, so there’s that. But, if he rises to the level at all of his brother, the Jackets might be on to something. Now, if they could just find a way to fill the rest of their rosters with 23 and 24 year old super seniors, they might be able to make some noise on the Flats.
Editor’s note: no, the Nerds won’t make some noise on the Flats this year.
It could work, it could also not. With the exit of talent following Faulkner to Florida, Godsey might have to go out there and play quarterback himself next season. And I’m all for it, gang.
Not going to lie, I kind of feel sorry for BYU. This could’ve been BYU versus Notre Dame in the Close But No Cigar Bowl, and given the performance of Tulane they should’ve at least gotten a chance.
Tech, nah, this is right up the Nerds’ alley. Enjoy it, Brent. With the exodus from Atlanta to greener pastures, that toasted pastry might be your last taste of a bowl game for a while.
This feature took last week off because there was really nothing on the field to report, but this weekend got the message boards lit up. We’ll start today’s trip where we normally end it … to check in on the most obnoxious for no apparent reason fan base in sports. How is it going at the North Avenue Trade School after their 3rd moral victory in a row over the Dawgs?
This Booby Dudd like nerd’s response to the game on Friday was on a thread regarding whether they should keep playing Georgia. The copium being taken in west midtown Atlanta in the CFB landscape since the game is some of the most potent I’ve seen.
On the field, the defensive front took the Jacketasses behind the woodshed for 60 minutes. Other than the pass off the goal line after a blatant missed intentional grounding call that should have resulted in a safety, the vaunted Buster Faulkner/Haynes King offense was in a UFC choke hold for much of the game.
Here’s a different sports analogy for you from Brooks Austin:
If the offense had done anything of note, we could have witnessed a beatdown of epic proportions in MBS. Alas, that gives us something to worry about for Saturday as if Bama wasn’t enough.
Let’s move on to Austin to check in on the formerly undefeated Texas AgCult after their faceplant in Austin in the Lone Star Showdown (or whatever they call it).
Speaking of copium, a lot of that seems to have been smoked by this genius from Aggieland. Did this guy watch his team fall behind at home to South Carolina 30-3 a couple of weeks ago? The 12th Man played with fire multiple times during this season and got burned badly by their big brother on Friday night. Marcel Reed made the Archduke look like Peyton and Eli rolled up into one. Someone (cough, cough … Notre Dame … cough, cough) at the bottom of the first round bracket is probably drooling at the thought of going to Kyle Field.
Let’s move on to East Tennessee to check on the fan base that can’t say they run this state for the next year.
Powered by a 24-3 2nd half, Vanderbilt sends the Vol faithful to the exits to the tune of a 21 point whipping in Kneeland. That’s still not likely to be good enough to earn a playoff spot, but Clark Lea should be national coach of the year for doing something never done in the history of the traditional SEC Dore-mat football program.
All of this and they lost the turnover margin -2. Oh, my.
Enjoy your trip to Orlando, Commodores. On the other hand, let’s welcome Bobby Hill to the hottest seat in the SEC entering 2026, and enjoy your trip to Charlotte or Nashville in December.
Let’s end today’s trip in Oxford where a fan base should be looking forward to being a dangerous team in the CFP but, instead, is looking at a program holding on after being stung by a scorpion in the middle of the river (if you don’t get that reference, read my post from yesterday).
The first genius needs to calm down and step away from the ledge. The second genius doesn’t understand this decision likely wasn’t about money.
“No wrath like a fan base scorned.” I have no problem with Kiffin’s decision to leave even at this time. I have a big problem with his desire to do it on his terms and his apparent decision to go scorched earth on his way out as a result of not getting his way. His decision (likely with Jimmy Sexton’s blessing) to attempt to play the victim with his social media post announcing his departure should be insulting to the Rebel faithful who supported his NIL needs to build a transfer-laden roster. If Dooley had left for Auburn in 1980 during the season, I would have been apoplectic as a teenage fan.
I would love to see whether the Cane’s locations in Oxford see a drop in business as a result of all of this or if they try to do anything to buy off the Ole Miss athletic department.
What did you see this weekend? Let us know in the comments.
This afternoon the Dawgs face off against the enemy in downtown Atlanta in a game that will go a long way to determining Georgia’s playoff position. A win likely clinches the 5-seed and a home playoff game and keeps the Dawgs in the running for a first round bye whether we return to Atlanta next weekend or not. A loss makes the next 360+ days miserable regardless of the outcome of the season.
Let’s get to the preview.
When Georgia has the ball
The troubles of the Fech defense are well chronicled. They are giving up over 400 yards per game and are on the lower half of the ACC in every team defensive statistic.
In particular, the Georgia rushing offense against the Fech defense appears to be a big advantage for the Dawgs’ offense. I expect the Jacketasses to sell out against the run and try to force Gunner Stockton to make plays in the passing game where they are giving up 240+ yards per game plus a pass efficiency of 141.
I expect the Georgia offense to have a day later today.
When tech has the ball
There’s no getting around the fact that they have the best offense in the ACC statistically averaging over 485 yards per game and 35 points. Haynes King has been the straw that stirs the drink for their offense.
The Georgia defense in particular has been stout throughout the year against the run and has improved dramatically as the season has worn on against the pass. Staying in front of the chains for the defense is going to be important. That keeps the QB run in 3rd and manageable from being a large part of the game.
I really wish we had CJ Allen available at full strength for this one.
What will happen
I expect the Georgia offense in the absence of turnovers to control the game throughout. I expect tech to throw the kitchen sink at the Georgia offense to try to break serve.
The nerds have nothing to lose as they are heading to a meaningless bowl game rather than an ACC title game or to a CFP first round game.
Once again, I cannot take credit for this lovely bit of prose. If “impromptu tickle pile” is now part of your COFH vocabulary, this thinly-veiled venomous screed is the reason why. Last year, Derek and SlobberKnocker figured it was originally posted by SaxonDawg on the old Anti-Orange page, and FlyingPeakDawg wisely suggested that this be an annual thing, this ode to the “Hymn of the Bee”.
We Refugees are nothing if not traditionalists when it comes to Hate.
“Four Notes on a Trumpet”
You wake up in the top bunk, snug within your Star Trek bedsheets, with that feeling in the pit of your stomach. That pounding feeling, that giddy, nauseous rush that can mean only one thing. You rush to the potty and take care of business. The feeling goes away. But something about tinkling–the colors, the sounds–makes you remember: Yellow Jacket football today! You put on your best yellow sweater and yellow knee-socks, though you call them “gold,” natch. Then, moving to the dresser, you specially polish your thick glasses, adding one final flourish–fresh tape wrapped around the bridge. Speaking of bridges, your braces are also polished to a fine sheen, new zits are popped, and you’re lookin’ GOOD! You’re lookin’ JACKET. Heart pounding, you race up the steps from your parents’ basement. Mumsy and Pops are reading mail from the old home country in New Jersey where they hope to retire someday. You slip out the door quietly and pedal your 3-speed through the crisp autumn air, gameday flags a-flying from the handlebars. And there it is, just ahead–the MARTA station. It won’t be long now! You climb onto a southbound train, your eyes scan the car, and–yes! There, sitting next to the chatty tranvestite–a man wearing YELLOW! You make your way over and wave your pom poms at him and giggle, and he says, “$#%^ off, %$$^&!” And now you feel it more strongly than ever–the essence of being a Tech fan. You giggle again more shrilly, dance away, then slide around safely under the seats until the stop at North Avenue, tee-heeing for all you’re worth as you elude the grasp of your tormentor and his switchblade. It’s sort of like Frodo hiding from the Black Riders, right here on MARTA! You disembark at North Avenue, snatching quarters from a few homeless men, and take a deep breath of downtown Atlanta air–Tech air! Now you see swarms of other Jackets–two of them, three of them. It’s no wonder the stadium had to be expanded. You pause on the bridge over the Downtown Connector to indulge in a Tech tradition: spitting on cars passing underneath. It’s a massive traffic jam of red vehicles heading north, and you nail an RV with a big loogie from your morning Yoo Hoo Soda. Tee hee! Saliva, the GT calling card! Then you’re on campus, a block from the stadium. You take in the grand pageantry that is game day. It’s the gray, smoggy sky; the deep blue of the police siren; the giggling of the frat boys enjoying an impromptu tickle pile on the sidewalk. It’s the sound of gunfire. It’s the beautiful women with their thick makeup, standing on the street corners and bantering with the passing cars. It’s the voice of Kim King, talking and talking and talking in his one-note melodic range; Wes Durham screaming about a one-yard gain. It’s the giant rubber bee, George O’Leary’s old bedroom toy, patched all over, making funny farting sounds as the air oozes out yet again. It’s Flag Boy, the aspiration of all Tech males. Tee hee! Above all, it’s four notes on a trumpet. You hear them now, playing the hallowed music, the sacred music, the Hymn of the Bee. There it is now, and you lift your voice to join in, warm tears fogging your thick glasses. The whole stadium sings solemnly: “When you say Bud…” Those four notes on a trumpet, your call to Jackethood, setting your yellow heart aflutter. Deep down you know this is the year–the year you beat Duke AGAIN–you OWN Duke. The year you road-trip to a BRAND SPANKIN’-NEW STARTUP BOWL for the holidays. The year your first pubic hairs break the surface. This sacred moment cannot last. Someday, by the Great Pointed Ears of Leonard Nimoy, you will be in New Jersey. In Michigan. In North Dakota. Someday you will buy your parents a house with a bigger basemment for you to live in. But in your heart, you’ll always be a Tech Guy–a proud drop in the endless river of yellow!
