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I don't think he was doing anything wrong, plus his comment explained why, in his opinion, the Hokie Stone Helmets weren't changed so let's relax and re-enjoy Sam Roger's pancake from the Miami game.
Simply incredible.
+1
yeah during the 08 game i asked a terp if they were making fun of us or if they actually do it, he told me they did it too. i do remember at college park in 09 they were getting loud when maryland had the ball on 3rd and 4th down. i was encouraging the behavior, it was hilarious.
I want to tell you the story of the time I said one of the DBs didn't fully play all of their nuts off during a game.
I heard a knock at the door. I wasn't expecting anyone, and I was busy doing homework. I decided to ignore it. The knock came again. It was followed by the words, "Public Safety," public safety being our version of campus police. I walked to the door, sensing a strange heat emanating from the door. As I reached for the knob it became more and more intense. I became a little nervous at this point. I wondered what this strange sensation was.
In this moment of indecision the knock came again, "Public Safety." Finally, I clasped the doorknob. The intense heat ran up my arm. The sensation was one of the most painful experiences I have gone through. I dropped to the floor, screaming in agony. I try desperately to unfurl my fingers from the knob, but it was as if my muscles were possessed by the pain, unable to do anything other than hold onto the knob.
The weight of my own body on the knob turned it. Unlatched, the door began to swing slowly open. Finally I wrested control of my hand an unclenched it, and ran to the other side of the room. Visits from public safety are rarely good signs, but this, this was no visit from public safety. I saw through the ever widening gap in the door a light that I had never seen before. It was an eerie glow that emanated with rage and hatred. For the first time in my life, I truly knew what hell was like. Hell is fear. Nothing more, nothing less.
I was frozen in place now. Unable to make a sound or move a muscle. That's when I saw it. That's when I saw what had knocked on my door. This was no public safety officer. This was something different entirely. This being, from what I can only assume is one of the most dangerous planes of existence, wasn't clad in the blue and white that a public safety officer would wear. Upon his feet he wore a pair of nike trainers, colored in maroon with orange swooshes. Adorning his legs were athletic pants, colored maroon. Covering his torso was a jacket which may have once been white. I'm not sure. The blood of his enemies had long since turned it to a frightful shade of maroon. Placed upon his head was a maroon baseball cap that obscured his eyes.
Those eyes. My god. Those eyes. Finally the spell was broken as I looked into those eyes. They spoke of years of hatred for all things festooned in blue and orange. They spoke of years of hatred for all things festooned in blue and gold. I looked down at myself and saw the blue jacket that I was wearing, the interlocking B & C of our colleges generic logo mocking me as I felt a strange warm fluid run through my pants.
I had seen this man before. I had seen him standing on the sidelines of every single football game played by the university's football team in my hometown. I didn't want to die standing there in a blue jacket with an interlocking BC logo. I bolted as fast as I could for the bathroom that connected my room to my suitemates'. He stood there, and watched me run. I'm not sure, but I suspect there may have been a brief glimmer of giddiness across his face as he watched the torment that he was putting me through.
I slammed both of the doors to the bathroom shut. I locked the door to my own room first, and then the room to my suitemates' side. I leaned my head against the all next to the sink, slowly sinking down, assuming that the pain was over. I looked down at my feet and I started to cry. Never before had I ever been so scared in my life. The fright of it all left me feeling fatigued and drained. I was glad that it was over though.
I wish I would have paid more attention. I wish I would have kept my head up. Maybe if I had, I would have known what was coming for me. On the other hand, maybe I was better off not knowing. I'm not sure if there was anything I could have done to stop it. In fact, I'm sure there was nothing that I could have done. Knowing would have just got me more fear.
The shower curtain bolted open. The all maroon demon had somehow phased through the walls of the bathroom. From whence did this trans-dimensional horror come? For the second time in such a short time I screamed out in terror. This time the smile of his goateed face made itself very present. This monster was enjoying my fear, and he was feeding of off it. Truly, this "man" if he could be called such fed on fear.
I tried to run out through the room of my suitemates'. My only hope was to run as fast as I could for as long as I could. Running fast for a long time is not something which I am unfamiliar with. My hope was that I might be able to keep away from this terror for long enough for him to grow tired. I assumed that if I could put all of the speed that it took to carry me through a mile I might have a chance.
Unfortunately for me, as soon as I threw the door to my companions' room open and turned the corner to start running for the building's door I heard the footsteps coming out of my own room. Before I knew it a great darkness was surrounding me. A strange orange light started emanating from behind me, casting a shadow across the hallway. I knew there was nothing I could do to escape.
I turned to meet my fate. Before I could finish turning around, I saw out of my peripheries motion. I was hit with the force of a thousand jackhammers as I was slammed to the ground. This terrifying beast snarled at me, "I thought the kid right there youre talking to right there played his nuts off. You can quote me on that shit too."
TLDR: Bud Foster ain't nothing to fuck with.
You asked a question, you got an answer. If you meant it rhetorically, well, the Internet is not very good at that. There's nothing that I see that's condescending about the reply you got (simply a statement of fact), so please don't try to start a flame war.
WVU Fans shake their keys on Kickoffs.... really weird.
Can we get the Hokie Stone helmets in a matte finished instead of the sticker?
Probably, but since they already bought them, I doubt they will invest in changing them this season
This information has everything to do with your comment. How is anyone supposed to know it was rhetorical?
I'm confused:
holy cow you're getting defensive over nothing...I don't find anything insulting about what he said...you're off your rocker man
Then don't talk to me like I am 5. I criticized Virginia tech so I must be uniformed. I know about the cost of the helmets and athletic department budget constraints. That information had little to do with my comment.
I'd rather have a few good helmets rather than ones that have left over car decals on them. Next time they do this hokie stone in matte please.
ESPN has a uniform consultant- perhaps VT could have BillDozerVT or cruhland be the ad hoc VT uniform combo designer. I'd VT for either or both.
In that context, I find it difficult to pronounce "penalized" with the "pen" sound as a writing utensile, but rather, with the extra emphasis..... "PEEEEnalized" - *giggles*
Clemson (hind sight is 20/20) late to the show, but the remaining 5 go like this:
Auburn
Michigan State
Miami
Texas
Stanford
Interesting point that the article actually cited the cause of injuries as a reflection of poor playing mechanics and fundamentals, which is directly a result of poor coaching. This should be no surprise as per the results from last season and the discontent of the fans with Edsall as a coach from the beginning.
Weaver has left the building
I would like to see our new AD use that stockpile of checks, and put her fashion foot forward!
Am I the only one on the Leal bus still?
black with bright orange... some maroon stripes perhaps
kids loved it when we had those
not about what the old folks want it about what the youngins want
Nike screws us consistently with these ugly arse uniforms... kids hate them and alumni talk about it all the time... like we're a bunch of fashionistas.... we may be many things but we are not urban sophisticates and most of us should just allow our wives and daughters to dress us
give the kids what they want, mostly black, kickass orange, strategic maroon... or we should go to a new uniform supplier
JMHO
Now we all have to remember to practice safe sacks, so that we are not penalized.
I like to think he was just toying with Clemson's heartstrings.
obligatory: BETTER PLAY: GIVE IT TO HOPKINS
wow, so JR and Dadi against a 3rd stringer. So what you are really trying to say is
Because,
Historically, we've seen walk-ons do well for our kickers and punters.
Wanna see some serious INTs action this weekend.
I don't get it. Is Branthover just not very accurate? Why not use him for all the field goals then?
I approve of the picture used here because, 1: Braveheart is a quality movie and 2: my roommate and I have made kilts and will be painted up for this game.