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Editor’s Note: This post first appeared October 27, 2010.

Displaced Aggression League Report — Week 7

This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Take off the turban, remove the crown. It will not be as it was: The lowly will be exalted and the exalted will be brought low. A ruin! A ruin! I will make it a ruin! — Ezekiel 21:26

Like a slow-orbiting comet or the McRib sandwich, truly epic upsets don’t come around very often; and when they do, it’s an occasion worth noting with appropriate solemnity.

John Hicks

“And I wept much, because no man was found worthy to open and to read the book, neither to look thereon.” – Revelation 5:4

It’s the day before the big game, Alabama vs. LSU. The weather is grim, a bad omen for somebody.

The Vegas boys have made the Tide five-point favorites. They’re good, the Vegas boys. They have the weird info, numbers you don’t know, can’t know. They control the passage of objects across the sky.

Life is ephemeral. The Vegas boys know. One way or another, there will be a riot at Bryant-Denny tomorrow night. It will be a powerful meeting of teams and fan bases, the game of the college season.

The grilled meat of the losers shall be flavorless and greasy.

The losers shall not savor merlot, nor Michelob Ultra, for the great day of wrath has come.

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Tom Long

Dark clouds hang over White Sox Nation.

The final indignity of a season of disappointments will likely soon come, with the contract of stellar lefthander Mark Buehrle expiring today with the end of the 2011 season. With the Sox poised to go into rebuilding mode, it is doubtful the free agent pitcher is part of the team plans moving forward. And that is a shame.

Over the past 11 seasons, Buehrle has been hands-down my favorite player in baseball. For a fan who treats baseball like his religion, this off-season is going to hurt. Last night’s performance — 7 innings, no runs, no walks and pitching out of jams caused by two errors — was typical of the man who can barely hit 89 MPH on the radar gun, yet has consistently fooled the best hitters in baseball with his great control and ability to throw first-pitch strikes. A tater served up by reliever Jesse Crain was the only run allowed in a hollow 2-1 victory.


Displaced Aggression League Report — Week 1

Greetings Team Owners, and many apologies for the delayed report in this, our opening week.  Blame the bull skunk that left your League Manager blinded by unholy stink, as collateral damage in its 3am showdown with the League Dog.  It was a horrifying turn of events that necessitated a hasty evacuation of the Command Bunker until the situation could be contained.  But scientists tell us that, just like the start our football season, the sudden influx of these toxic rodents in urban areas is a sure sign that Fall is here and Summer is a distant memory.

Indeed, it’s hard to believe that, just a few weeks ago, many of us were still in family vacation mode: With personality conflicts sharpened by rolling blackouts and a maddening heat index, and in-laws forced to take shelter on shady porches in resentful groups.  We draped ourselves over sticky wicker furniture and struggled to suck oxygen out of the steamy air, while the relentless screaming of cicadas was punctuated by the thumping of fat black flies the size of sparrows, trying to force their way through the screens to drink our blood.  It was too hot to do anything – too hot, thankfully, for any of us to act on the paranoid and murderous impulses that skittered around our brains every time we glanced at each other.