Cocks. Most of the people who visit this site probably have one. They probably like their own, but aren’t exactly yearning to love
But the thing is, the good folks down in South Carolina seem to just love cocks. Doesn’t matter who they belong to, as long as they attend school in their state. In fact, I’ve oftentimes seen people professing their love for cocks on their baseball caps. You really have to love some cocks if you’re going to walk around with a baseball cap with the word on there. Just saying.
the South Carolina Gamecocks
No one takes as much joy as I do whenever South Carolina comes to town. You can always be assured that (true story), there will be a mini-van full of SC fans driving down the strip with the sliding door open, 2 people hanging out screaming. The fun part comes when I get to yell out something to the extent of (another true story) “You guys like cocks?!” Oh man, I’m so clever.
As if I need to mention it by now, the South Carolina mascot is the cock. No single mascot more captures the essence of a team than this one. No one really looks at an LSU player or fan, and thinks “man, that guy’s a tiger! (except Don a few times after a night of drinking)” but the general knee-jerk reaction to seeing a South Carolina fan is “man, that guy’s a cock.” Their players are cocks, their fans are cocks, and their coach, well, he’s a cocky cock with cock-like tendencies, the trifecta.
Williams-Bryce Stadium in Columbia actually was built by aliens. Either aliens or Tom Cruise, but I generally like to use the two interchangeably. The reason I know this? Well, the “stadium” is actually constructed from a huge alien jaw, much like shark jaws on display, but bigger. Look at the thing. At some point, if it ever decides to come back to life, it’s going to just chomp down and eat the entire contents (which, if Florida is playing that week, might not be such a bad thing).
Either that, or it’s a giant hair clip thingy. This explanation might be more plausible, seeing as how back in the 80s (the decade South Carolina is stuck in fashion-wise interestingly enough), there were hair clips easily twice the size of this one to hold together the big hair of southern women (I’m not bashing it on this one, there’s nothing like being able to hide your drugs/guns/extra keys/kittens/remote controls in your woman’s hair for safe keeping when the po po come).
South Carolina has long had a tradition of being the “short man” of the SEC. This being the case, they have the second largest inferiority complex known in the world, second only to Cananda’s complex toward the US (suck it, canada, play on a 100 yard field).
That having been said, the administration does its best to bring in coaches that, in their prime, were great coaches, but might have just passed that prime “ripeness” and started the inevitable journey towards “slightly hairy in all the wrong places.”
Coach Lou Holtz was a legend at Notre Dame, then by the time he went to South Carolina was just a human lawn-sprinkler (which, interestingly enough, was why they kept him around before and after games). Now they have Steve Spurrier, who, after dominating the SEC in the 90s with Florida was brought out of retirement when the South Carolina AD took his favorite pitching wedge hostage.
I’m not saying that South Carolina can’t be a winner, it’s just that they have to set their sights a little lower. Like, how about winning the “sexual innuendo mascot game?” Hands down. See? Silver lining. That’s what we do, here at Fulmer’s Belly.
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