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- Boney Fuller Week in Review: West Virginia
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Boney Fuller’s Guide to Conference Expansion
- Updated: July 29, 2016
Cougar Nation’s comedic treasure, Boney Fuller, breaks down the candidates for Big 12 expansion and how BYU fits into the picture.
FIRST, A DISCLAIMER.
Look, guys, let’s be blunt: college football is a corrupt system of haves and have-nots; where demi-gods rule over a desperate, filthy, wretched class of plebes who, with gnarled fingers, reach to clutch at the purple-hemmed cloaks of their betters in hopes of drawing enough attention to have a handful of bronze sesterce thrown disdainfully in their direction. And, let’s be honest, what wouldn’t we give do to be hucking pennies at beggars instead of catching them in the teeth?
That’s how it works. Look at the University of Utah. They were essentially merchant-class snake oil peddlers who, on the back of miraculous luck and spectacular timing, got run over by Caesar’s chariot, and were charitably picked up, thrown in the back, and carried off to the marble villas of the Palatine Hill to forever look down their noses on the hordes they used to clamor with for equality. That’s probably enough references to Ancient Rome. For now.
WE ALL HATE EQUALITY.
NOBODY WANTS EQUALITY. Not really. Sure, they say they do sometimes. But what we all really want is to be pigs walking on two legs, eating all the apples, and pointing out that some animals are more equal than others while slamming the doors on the paddywagon that takes USU to the glue factory. So, let’s stop the pretense and admit that all of us, upon finding the magic lamp, would use one wish to set ourselves up as all-powerful overlords, the second wish to crush our enemies into dust, and there’s no way we’re using our third wish to free the genie.
WHY YOUR TEAM DOESN’T BELONG…
So, with that said, and with every conceivable metaphor butchered, let’s talk about expansion. The Big 12, like a rich, alcoholic father that’s been ignoring his children for decades has been finally forced by circumstance to welcome some of its illegitimate progeny home and give them a (lower tier) piece of their inheritance. But there’s not enough inheritance for all, and now it’s up to the gaggle of little weirdos to step up and prove that they are worth daddy’s doting, that they can bring something to the family business, that they didn’t get their degree from a second-tier college with a half-decent basketball team and a third-world infant mortality rate (sorry, Memphis, you’re out).
Let’s look at the candidates, of which there are a few serious ones and a handful of misconceived simpletons staring down the barrel of their last chance to escape the basement they’ve been locked in since they were conceived (sorry, NIU, you’re out, but we’ll crack the cellar door).
Oh look, there’s Tulane rolling in like a . . . green wave? What does that even mean? Why is it green? Is it gangrenous? Look, we realize that Tulane has crack academic credentials but it’s pretty hard to take the Big 12’s assertion about “academic quality” all that serious when it already contains, well, all of its current schools except Texas. Sorry, Tulane, you can slosh your way on out.
And there’s Boise State in a freshly starched pair of overalls and America’s last unironic trucker hat. Look at those rippling muscles, those arms that really could throw a football over them there mountains. But alas, Boise is currently using its incredible athletic abilities to simultaneously eat paste and…look, I can’t put this part in print. Boise, if anyone ever starts a conference that’s based entirely around how good you’ve been at football in the past decade and ignores literally every single other factor, you’ll be first on the list. But for now, you’re out, and I am begging you to go wash your hands.
Should we mention UConn? I guess we have to. UConn’s main strengths are, in declining order: 1) women’s basketball, 2) men’s basketball, 3) the desperate lie that they somehow open the New York market. Because everyone in Manhattan is tuning in to watch UConn get hammered by MAC teams. Sorry, UConn, the truth is that you belong in the Big 12 in the same way that Two Broke Girls belongs on television. Sure, some nitwits might make a case, but no one really cares. You’re out.
Now, where were we? Cincinnati. Cincinnati is best known as a rust belt castoff of a city that people often mention in prayer while thanking God they don’t actually have to drive anywhere near it to get through the bleak sadlands of southern Ohio, where dreams go to die, usually of cardiovascular disease. That said, the University of Cincinnati touts a reputation as a school where decent coaches can get a start on their careers before immediately switching to any other school and the second best basketball program in that part of Ohio, which is nothing to spit at. It’s close enough to West Virginia that when Mountaineers start hunting for human flesh to consume they might not wander far enough west to bother the other schools, which is a pretty big plus. Alright, Cincy. We might be able to make this work. You’re in. Maybe. Unless. Well, I think we need to talk about Houston.
Picture yourself in a Chuck-a-Rama. The flagship Chuck-a-Rama, the one where you are taken to your table in a gondola made of fried chicken floating down a canal of melted chocolate. The one where there’s a soda fountain and an insulin fountain. Congratulations, you’ve just placed your mind in Houston city hall. And in bursts University of Houston, like if the Kool-Aid man got a new job representing Armour brand fancy beef lard. Houston was sitting on the sidelines of the whole discussion wondering why its fingers weren’t finging when who pipes up but the Governor of Texas, the Honorable Mind Your Own Friggin Business III, pockets fat with oil-slick greenbacks from an unknown source (wink wink), and endorses them for Big 12 membership. Suddenly everything changes, and U of H sits up with a turd-eating grin on their jowls and everyone agrees, noses firmly pinched with one hand and giving the other Texas schools a variety of obscene gestures with the other that University of Houston is in. Sorry, Cincy, you’re out.
…BUT BYU DOES.
You might be wondering why I haven’t gotten to BYU, yet. The truth is that I don’t really have to talk about BYU because BYU speaks for itself- a national championship, a Heisman winner, a fanbase with the combined superiority and persecution complex that guarantees that they will click on literally every tweet, article, or blog post written about their school and rain down righteous indignation on anyone who impugns Taysom Hill’s honor. Oh, and actual fans, generally. That seems important. BYU isn’t just in, they’re being wrenched in so hard they might dislocate something in the process.
So, there you have it. A quick and objective review of the facts goes to show that there are really only two schools with a realistic shot of being pulled out of the impoverished doldrums of the world outside the P5 and up into the realm of wealth, glory, and generally screwing over everyone else in college football. I have to say I’m looking forward to instantly forgetting where we came from and waving goodbye as the knacker’s cart pulls the likes of Wyoming and UNLV away to be turned into dog food and the same kind of paste that Boise State is still devouring.
Until next time.