The University's genetics department finally found a way to try and match up with LSU - by crossbreeding Wildcats with Ponies, making Centaurs. Coach Rich Brooks, serving mint juleps from his rippled equine back, masses his troops in front of Commonwealth Stadium. Quarterhorse Andre Woodson stands ready to throw, and probably kick, too. Though the kick would be backwards. Anyway, former quarterback Jared Lorenzen hangs out in the parking lot, looking for dropped hot dogs. The barrels do not contain hardcore pornography, but those are real bungholes. This experiment is all nice and well - but Kentucky forgets...LSU has a little man for a jockey.     "Now 'member guys - football is a lot like the basketball but not the shapes and not the hoop! Hahaha hoop! Ok - this is the school's new football training device, to give you something you recognize! Guys, guys, let's 'member that if basketball is Ashley Judd then we are Wynonna but that's ok because Love Can Build A Bridge now who needs hugs!" Oh, football gods, thank you for sharing with us the merriment! What a raucous, bawdy gathering! How you must have cackled with delight to see your little Adonis raised high in adulation, and then thrown to the ground, where his spirits were smashed for all the world to see. Once the carapace was shattered like his will, the only thing remaining was the heart of a champion. Which, incidentally, is a small ampoule of tears. Can't tell if it's the tears of a coach or a player, but they left a lot of streaks on our cell phone display when we were using it to call Adoni...uh...oh, look! There's Glenn Dorsey eating a Weimaraner! Hester's Wayfaring Band of HeMallets takes a long trip to the land of the bluest grass, the biggest hats, and the finest hooch (sorry, Taaka) to stand toe-to-hoof with the surging Wildcats of the Commonwealth! This marks the first time LSU has returned to the Smurf village since that fateful day when Dash Right 93 Berlin became our PIN number, and hordes of cerulean-clad students filed onto the field like lemmings. Those poor shocked souls wasted all that energy tearing down the goalposts over a loss; sadly, they were too tired to feel up the barnyard that evening. Showers of Gatorade (which, by the way, didn't exactly work out like you said it did in the commercials, now did it, KEITH STUPID JACKSON) will definitely be due again, but mostly to get rid of the ichors that will most assuredly stain the Tiger defensive linemen's jerseys. "Mmm...smells like a rotting Heisman candidacy!" Long ago, Lube U was coached by Peter Cetera doppelganger Hal Mumme, who helped elevate Kentucky basketball to something incredible. By coaching the football team into such a stinking squalor, fans were forced to support basketball and embrace it as an event where the Wildcats didn't look like a bunch of epileptics at a Wii display. We were not very nice to Hal and his ascots, and thought for sure that he would repay us when we hopped aboard his ride. We thought for sure it would be a blaring tribute to Peter Cetera and his works, all while a blue tube sent parkgoers rocketing into an abyss of complete suck. Instead, it was all about some Egyptian cursed guy who was like a living Toomer's Corner or something. Fret not, gentle reader; some riders still Sabaned their pants. Next came Guy Morriss, who calls as fine a prevent defense as Nick Saban. He did steer the good human aircraft carrier U.S.S. Lorenzen into battle, mostly with Golden Corral hotel pans. The Gatorade soaked through his shirt, forever leaving him smelling like SHAME, i.e., Fruit Punch. He left Kentucky for BAYLOR. GRRRR. Here were now to Rich Brooks, which is a great name for a fishing camp in Montana, or maybe a subdivision. A subdivision with street names like "Pancake Place," "Pick 6 Lane," and "Your cooking is awful Avenue." A subdivision where the houses are made of blitzes and the garages hold boxes of ALL DAY LONG, MR. QB. Rich Brooks is the drunk postal carrier of the subdivision, with the tan on his right arm because the steering wheel is on that side, and he has the Wildcats nipping at the top 10, ready to pounce! Now, we've never thrown a Wildcat into a woodchipper, but that's the only way we could think to simulate this week's contest. We don't have either of those, but we do have a garbage disposal and a bowl full of small turtles, so we'll report back. Kentucky has talented bean-slinger Andre Woodson at the helm; this chap is having quite a season, even being mentioned as a Heisman candidate. If the award goes to "dude who will lick the most grass under Glenn Dorsey's cleat," then yeah, Woodson has a great shot. A GREAT SHOT AT SUCKING. In the spirit of traveling all sorts of exotic places like Lexington, let's fire up The Trough's research team! The logo for Kentucky is "UK." The abbreviation for the United Kingdom is "UK," too! Coincidence?! Bad teeth: check. Pewter mugs: check. Big funny hats: check. Horses: check. Accent: check. Everybody knows they don't play football over there except for like NFL Europe, and the only people that went to those games were bums and vagabonds. Don't try to trash talk, Tigers - they're far too witty. Here, take these muskets. Kentucky is the home of Bluegrass music? SCREW THAT CRAP. Know who's from Kentucky? THAT'S RIGHT, BOYZ AND GURLZ - MIDNIGHT STAR. It's clear that while "Freakazoid" is a metaphor for a heightened state of self-awareness when one learns to let go (e.g., "wind me up"), and "Operator" is much more about the efficacy of the bicameral system, only one song is about putting the Magic Shell on the boodiggities: No Parking on the Dance Floor. Like a Holliday reverse, it's so easy. It's so right. Every year at the Kentucky Derby, thousands dress like a peyote-filled Scooby Doo garden party and get drunk off of burned barrel sweat, and gather at Churchill Downs to bet on midgets beating bulimic, juiced cows around an ellipse. GO WILDCATS. Kentucky has a dish called a "Hot Brown." We're at a loss, really for the first time ever. Les Miles has another fake field goal planned this week? He's going to run it on a 2nd and 3. You want to see guts, Mr. College Football World? Rumor has it the Tigers will up the ante this week by actually going for a 2 point conversion, but instead faking it and kicking the PAT instead. BOOM. In the land of the horsies, the jockey is king, and we got a riding crop called Jacob Hester. Well, ok, it's more of paddle. But we used a woodburning pen and it's pretty close to his face, if you turn it and DON'T think Abe Vigoda, you're totally like "wow, look at that it's Jacob Hester on a paddle." It doesn't hit as hard, but it probably has more wax on it. Alright, Ashley Judd...this fairy tale comes to an end, right now. Tigers 38, Shetlands, 13 Welcome to The Trough, a place that really gets to the meat of LSU's opponents. Ok, not so much the meat, but the sinewy gristle and thick connective tissue. We then feed these funbits through a grinder to get a coarse meaty bounty, and that's what is on display here. It should be a given that while The Trough is loosely related to LSUChicageaux.com, it's more like a Baton Rouge uncle than a Tuscaloosa cousin. In other words, what's in The Trough is obviously not endorsed by any official LSU entity. They've got better sense than that.