Noah posted:

Does anyone have that post from a few years back describing Spurrier and the QB hating god that exists, but somehow drunk rear end Stephen Garcia was the only one to see through the veneer to Spurrier's demon heart?

Noah posted:

Does anyone have that post from a few years back describing Spurrier and the QB hating god that exists, but somehow drunk rear end Stephen Garcia was the only one to see through the veneer to Spurrier's demon heart?

Technowrite posted:

Please, dear God, someone still have this.

umbrage posted:

I am personally convinced that to win the Heisman, Steve Spurrier made a deal with some Ancient and Unknowable Demon.

Because of this, any starting quarterback under Spurrier has a giant target on his back for an Angry Spurrier Quarterback Hating God. He doesn't yank and rotate his quarterbacks because he's unhappy with their play; he does it to save their lives. If he keeps one in for too long, ASQBHG will destroy him.

When his starter falls, he throws cut-rate QBs in, like Tommy Beecher and Dylan Thompson, calling insane five vert plays, hoping the defense will paralyze or decapitate the QB and satisfy His eternal hunger, for one game. Maybe one quarter. Maybe even one series.

This is why he gave Stephen Garcia so many "chances". Somehow, through alcohol and pure machismo, Garcia managed to thumb his nose in the face of ASQBHG, and Spurrier wanted to know his secret. Was it the hair? The cult-like following from his teammates and fans? Perhaps Florida held part of the key.

Was it the Holy Runes of Safety he carved into the side of a professor's car one day? No one else could read the letters; they could never know what was at stake. Garcia was charged with vandalism, but Spurrier alone could read the words. They practically screamed in his head as he saw the pictures: a chorus of the manifold, inscrutable language he had heard only once before...when he made his deal with that Demon, on that terrible night in Gainesville.

But if ASQBHG could not have his prize, he would not be idle. Those who would stand with one who would defy Him would pay the price. Lattimore, his knee. Jeffery, his gut. Saunders, his sweet hotel room with cheap rent. They would all fall to ASQBHG, so long as He was denied.

Eventually Spurrier could see the pyrrhic victory ahead of him. He sucked his teeth and said, "Well, it is what it is." Garcia's secrets would leave with him. It was what it was. It was what it always will be.

ASQBHG was pleased. But more than He was insatiable, he was patient. The talk of a solid starter throughout the summer, the unqualified praise of Connor Shaw...they were the aroma for his inevitable feast. They wafted into His myriad, unholy nostrils until he reached a climax of hunger. And then He summoned a host of Black Demons to lay into Spurrier's latest champion.

Vandy would, at times, play like men possessed--because they were. And like those drunken, desperate claw marks on the side of that car in 2008, only Spurrier could see what was truly going on. As Shaw winced in pain, arm limp, oblivious to his small part in a truly unjust world, Steve knew that this was not revenge.

It was merely a reminder.

"Dylan," Steve said, "if Ace is covered, don't check down, just take off! And I don't want to see you sliding!"

Ehud posted:

@onlygators: Reporter to Shawn Elliott: "How much pressure do you feel replacing Steve Spurrier?"

Steve Spurrier yells away from the mic: "We're 2-4."

swickles posted:

Seriously, if you are between 25 and 35 (what I imagine is average TFF goon age), chances are Steve Spurrier wrecked your team and ruined your 10 year old self's week.

MourningView posted:

This is the Steve Spurrier Appreciation Station, dumb cry baby haters please vacate

Chinatown posted:

John Rawl Tahd posted:

Sash! posted:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-STPIDx3KMM


CLICK CLACK