I had the strangest dream last night. For some reason, George C. Scott was doing his famous Patton speech, but for the Gators. Fortunately, I managed to remember exactly what he said and typed it down.
Men, all this stuff you've heard about the Gators not being able to win the conference, having to rebuild, is a lot of horse dung. Gators traditionally love to fight. All real Gators love the sting of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion Madden player, the fastest runner, the big league ball player, the toughest boxer. Gators love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. We play to win all the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. The very thought of losing is hateful to the Gator Nation.
Now, we are a team. We live, eat, sleep, fight as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of crap. The bilious bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for the Gainesville Sun don't know anything more about real football than they do about fornicating.
We have the finest schemes and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. You know, by God I actually pity those poor bastards we're going up against. By God, I do. We're not just going to hit the bastards, we're going to cut out their living guts and use them to grease the wheels of our chartered plane. We're going to pound those lousy LSU bastards by the bushel.
Now, some of you boys, I know, are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you will all do your duty. The Tigers are the enemy. Wade into them. Spill their blood. Spear them in the belly. When you walk into that stadium, confronted by ninety-two thousand people who smell like corn dogs, you'll know what to do.
Now there's another thing I want you to remember. I don't want to see any play calls implying that we are holding our position. We're not a conservative team. Let LSU do that. We are advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto them by the nose and we're going to kick them in the ass. We're going to kick the hell out of them all the time and we're gonna go through them like crap through a goose.
There's one thing that you men will be able to say when you get back home. And you may thank God for it. Thirty years from now when you're sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great Southeastern Conference, you won't have to say, "Well, I shoveled shit in Louisiana."
Alright now, you sons-of-bitches, you know how I feel. Oh, and I will be proud to lead you wonderful guys into a game - anytime, anywhere.
Welcome to LSU week, kids.