I believe in miracles. I believe that Mike Vick’s sprained ankle can heal in six days, just as The Lord Himself created the Earth. I believe Virginia Tech’s perforated offensive line will, today, be solid, like the disemparting of the Red Sea.
I believe in the power of prayer. Well, not really. But I’m praying anyway.
VT v. Miami. 12:00 EST. Could be the best football game ever played. If Tech wins, we’re gonna need a new Homer to write about it.
Homer, how’s your iambic pentameter?
Sofa, are you married? If not my sister wants to propose. She is, as we speak, on her way to see the game. She has taught my 3 year old the fight song. She plans her social life around game time. At my dad’s 50th birthday dinner last year she kept sneaking off to call for the score.
On the Micheal Vick subject, his younger brother quarterbacks for one of the local high schools. According to big bro, lil bro is better (!!!) than he is. The football players around here like to stay close to home. Will there be a Vick dynasty at Tech?
Homer would have written: “Doh!”
LunaSea, I’m not the marrying type, but if yer sister can see her way around a bottle of beer, she’s welcome to the as yet unplanned VT-UVA bash which will spontaneously erupt somewhere here in NOVA.
No national championship this year, but we still have the chance to spank the Cavs.
I love the Hokies.
I love the Hokies.
I love the Hokies.
I love the Hokies.
I love the Hokies.
Carry on.
Okay, I know the Hokie is the mascot of Virginia Tech, but with all due respect, what the heck is a Hokie?
Hokie and Wahoo are both fish, FWIW, but I doubt that that’s what anyone at either school had in mind…