University of Tennessee head basketball coach Bruce Pearl was recently fired from his position on March 21st as a result of holding an inappropriate barbecue for prospective players and families. This event goes against the NCAA’s strict “no-barbecues” clause as stated in section 4.2.0 of the NCAA’s recruiting rules and regulations.
The passage states, “No coach of any men’s Division I athletic team may hold an unofficial event consisting of any public instances of the slow roasting, dry-rubbing, shoulder-pulling, bacon-weaving, or basting of any pork, beef or chicken. Doing so causes an environment of excessive bonding, promise making, sucking up, and the high probability of unacceptable man-love and general ‘bro-ing out’ between recruits and coaches.”
Pearl, in clear violation of this statute, in the presence of high school basketball players, was seen manning the grill, flipping patties and directly injecting barbecue sauce into his meats with a syringe.
On the subject of his ousting, Pearl defended himself by saying, “I know what I did was wrong. I just wanted to give these kids a lunch other than pizza or deli sandwiches. The NCAA needs to move on into the 21st century. The no-barbecue rule comes from a dated time when boys and men were not allowed to share a smoky delicious southern delicacy.”
The rule was put into place in the early 1970s when many American men would hold “block parties” to entice the youth of their neighborhood with scrumptious marinated masterpieces smoked over a well-aged, plump and firm set of logs. Children, hypnotized by the ungodly smells of pure ecstasy, would engage in frivolous activities such as playing tag, hide and seek, throwing balls recklessly and without precision and generally running around like spider monkeys on a serious Red Bull binge.
The NCAA determined that high school students, with some being under the age of eighteen, should not be permitted near coaches in such fun-laden environments that may cloud their better judgment.
Bruce Pearl, who is Jewish, has also been under the scrutiny of his spiritual leaders for handling so much pork at one specific moment. The NCAA would not comment on the potential violations for recruiting his own son, Steven, to the Tennessee basketball team not for nepotism, but rather a quite evident violation of suiting up a severely uncoordinated player in a Division I game.
Slant Reporter Goes Abroad to Strange, Unforgiving Land
Here at the Slant we have high standards of excellence. Our articles are always proofread at least once. We don’t associate with the Hustler staff. We have our own dust-jacket (in the form of Versus). Our writers are have been called “beneficent martyrs for truth and journalistic integrity”. This is why I was not surprised when the Slant told me they would be sending me Paris for our new editorial; “The Slant Goes Abroad”.
Those fuckers.
I am in Clarksville Tennessee right now for the “Rivers and Spires” festival. Apparently we don’t have any money for “Paris”. That will have to wait for next year. By that point Obama will probably have thrown some money our way. I hear he’s going to implement a blimp-based system for money distribution. Bombs away.
If you have never been to Clarksville- don’t. I finally understand that Swift’s “A Modest Proposal” was not a satire- he was just referring to this particular destination. The number of strollers outnumbers the number of people. What I’m trying to say is… babies need to be eaten. What is more unnerving is the average age of the parents. In many cases the parents are only a couple years older than the parents. For this to be possible many of the infants are impregnated while in the womb- like human Russian dolls. Open up a baby, what’s inside? More baby.
As I waded through the human ball-pit, I noted the attire of the gastropods around me. Camouflage. Football jerseys. Jorts. And what is that air? Crystal Meth? Or Heroin? And what is that I just slid on? A slick patina of vomit and Coors. Even my sense of taste is on the retreat- the corpulent women next to me hasn’t stopped eating fried… something… and farting, for hours. How do you even eat and fart for that long?!
And then the Pied Piper of Clarksville, Mr. Charlie Daniels himself walks onto the stage- and the place goes fuckin’ crazy. All he does is play a damn fiddle and ohhhhhh my god he’s really good at that. Ok, I take that part back. But still, something about this place has made me realize that Mr. Darwin was right, we are really descended from apes.
You’re probably wondering what gives me the right to be so pretentious. I have never had sex with animals. I have not fried an article of clothing so I could eat it. I’m over the Civil War. Oh, by the way, Go North. I would like to say that this isn’t a commentary on Middle America. I have no problem with that part of the world. Just, please, stay away from me Clarksville.
