Dancing with the Devil

Editor’s Note: The Nittany Line welcomes new writer Nick to our humble little blog. Here is his first submission and if the rest of his work is anything like this then TNL has just had a serious upgrade. Welcome Nick and say goodbye to your free time.

Dancing with the Devil – Joe Paterno

Oh god, it's humid. Just hours ago I was waist deep in the finest Latina booty and Scotch in Guatemala. Don't drink water down here or in Columbus anymore, ties my stomach in knots. Now I'm somewhere in Colombia I think, we touched down at daybreak. It seemed like such a good idea to look into this "Southern Speed" thing, but it's so damn hot. People really retire to Florida for this shit? I figured if the South was fast, the further South you go the faster they'll get, so here I am tracking something the locals call "El diablo que hace trofeos de los hombres," the demon who makes trophies of men. I gotta admit that's a badass name, think I'll make that my call sign on NCAA '08, take that little bitch SoonerPride28 down a few pegs. Remind him I still own the career interception record at Brown. Come on, focus, if you lose it here and you're in a world of hurt, this guy has already taken out Brady Quinn and Troy Smith. Let's go old man, stick with what you know. Those new Nike jerseys are hard to see, disappear into the surroundings, wish he stuck with the day-glo abominations from Oregon. If I can corner him, maybe I can pound him into submission with a blunt object like a boulder or a log, it worked against Tennessee. Can't wait to get back to that sweet, sweet Scotch and all the curvaceous Spanish tail a goddamned sexual Tyrannosaurus like myself needs.

The past few years I've sent out various coaches on the staff to places like the University of Texas, the Indianapolis Colts, and just recently Louisiana State University for the purpose of improving different aspects of our team. This year, it was also time to look at the best overall ways to improve, I've been reading so much about this phenomenon called "Southern Speed" that I wanted to familiarize myself with it. What is it? How can we scheme around it? My first thought was possibly cocaine, but frankly it would make the players too twitchy and lead to too many procedural penalties, false starts and such. Those, as you know, are simply unacceptable, so I started making a few phone calls and got an interesting lead from fellow Republican and governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger.

He put me in touch with a few guys in Central/South America who might be able to help me study this "Speed" or at the very least find some pretty women to satisfy a goddamned sexual Tyrannosaurus like myself. I like the sound of that, but this trip is for business, if the South is fast, then the further South we go the faster they get, right? Met up with Dutch, Mac, Billy, Poncho, and Hawkins in Guatemala, the plan was to disembark overnight and touch down at daybreak. This part is mostly classified, however I can say this if you lose it here and you're in a world of hurt, to the tune of 41-14. A few notes I can share, the next wave of Nike jerseys are better than the abomination on college football that is Oregon, but still too fancy for my tastes, disappearing into your surroundings makes it difficult to keep track of your players. The instructor, "El diablo que hace trofeos de los hombres," is one ugly mofo, tall and thick, wonder if he has any eligibility left? This mini-gun is a sweet little piece of machinery, definitely going on my Christmas list, do they sell these at Cabela's? Surprisingly, I came back from my excursion with the conclusion that basic principles still apply: execute your game plan, limit mistakes, outsmart and trap your opponent, and pound them into submission.

I ain't got time to bleed

If you screw up, this it the last thing you see