Craigslist

photographic proof that the Times Picayune took a photo of a Tulane game this season. Michael DeMocker did it.

Yea yea yea. it's almost afternoon and I've totally slacked on the post-game edition.

Don't get me wrong: I was completely kvelling over the win. We even went to Tracey's to harass tiger fans even though there was no post-game radio show there. It was great. They're such weanies.

So the game. Okay. When we witnessed that long bomb from Ryan Griffin to Ryan Grant and it was actually caught and resulted in a touchdown - it seemed like it totally happened in slow motion.

Let me set it up for you....

There's not a sound. The entire Greenie Dat Nation is standing and holding their breath. Griffin is under pressure. The ball sails out of Ryan's hands in a lollipop shape out to the 20. Ryan Grant is in a tight run with a cornerback. He stretches out his hands, the defender is a few steps off his heels. The ball actually lands and stays in his hands. Eeeh, aahh, ooohhh, he trips into the endzone. The DOME ERUPTS.

!!!!!!

Girl, let me tell you. I still wasn't breathing. Peggy and I were so shocked we turned, looked at each other and let out a massive scream with our mouths wide open, our knees slightly crouched and our palms wide open at our sides in complete exclamation. Then we hugged and jumped up and down hugging for about a minute. Very Laverne and Shirley.

...and then. Rice marched down the field and made a 1st down. Because we jumped off sides. OMG SIGH. Coach Hullabaloo was so angry. He couldn't even watch that last throw by Fanuzzi's replacement. It ended up hitting the receiver right in the helmet. I had to tell Coach Hullabaloo all about it afterwards.

Our reaction to Ryan Grant's miracle touchdown was such a contrast to THAT LAME @$$ field goal on 4th and 3 at the goal line. WHAT was that story exactly? I had moved up the terrace level at the beginning of the 4th Q. The entire Greenbackers section all screamed NOOOOOO! when we saw the field goal unit jog out.

The ENTIRE Greenie Dat Nation was so disgusted, there was no Hullabaloo cheered after the score was announced. A Protest. I think we have had our fill of lame coaching decisions. We've reached our quota, so enough of that - Ok? Alright. Just so you know. It's on the record.

So we've also decided to put an ad in Craigslist for a special teams coach. Because as things are, we might as well just go and place the ball for a 40 or 60 yard scoring drive for our opponents and rest our kickers for all the uselessness that is our blocking.

Who cares about Where's Waldo - where's our special teams coach!?!

Anyways, our We Eat Rice for Lunch tailgating menu was a success. We ordered Jambalaya from Mothers, Priscilla made a yummy gumbo with white rice, Peggy brought "Owl" Tenders, Coach Hullabaloo made Rice Crispy Treats and I made Deviled Owl Eggs. and Bootie Judy provided some yummy drunken Rice Pudding.

Oh and we laughed ourselves silly choreagraphing Riptide beating up Shasta as part of a gametime performance. Who is Shasta you ask? That's the name of the Houston Cooter. Seriously. It's name is Shasta.

Booty Judy has become a fan of the Rice Owl Marching Band and their sarcasm after I posted their Tulsa skit, so we kinda took that a few steps beyond in our Riptide Stalks Shasta skit. Coach Hullabaloo rolls his eyes at the Rice band - Peggy was just perplexed, I don't think she'd ever paid attention to them. Like what's up with the Nutria Rat chasing Little Red Riding Hood, and oil drum and hurricane glasses? As Coach Hullabaloo says, they're like a halftime Renaissance Festival.

Well, here we go. UCF next week. Time to just grab onto our ankles and pray. [yes, I just wrote that - if you have a problem with it, be useful and help me with the Craigslist ad. If you haven't watched a UCF game this fall: don't. Just go into next Saturday's game blissfully ignorant.]