Gus Malzahn looked at the board, moved his piece, looked back up at Bobby Petrino and said, "Yeah, no doubt. That's checkmate."
Will Muschamp's young defense held its own to take down a feisty backup quarterback and his juke moves, and we used up all of our data plans to watch GIFs of Coach Boomsicle, well, booming on the sideline.
Jesse Palmer continued to wave his high-five hands, one of which perpetually holds a pencil, as he thought to himself, "Man, I'm the best dressed analyst in the country!"
Auburn is 1-0. You mad about it? You upset about the way Auburn BEAT LOUISVILLE'S ENTIRE BAG OF TRICKS IN ATLANTA?
LET ME EASE YOUR PAIN. LET ME BARN ON A WHOLE 'NOTHER LEVEL FOR YOU, FAM.
This weekend, Auburn unveils MOTHRATRON as Jeremy, Carl & Co. take on a Jacksonville State team that Gustav himself said was better than many D1 teams. OH, SUCH SHADE THROWN FROM BEHIND THAT GLORIOUS VEST HE WORE TO VICTORY ON SATURDAY.
Did I mention we're 1-0?
All right, let's move on. In the words of @PFTCommenter, it's time for a #businesstrip. So let me provide you with the dopest and illest of tracks to blast in your Beats by Dre as you walk off that bus, Gamecocks. I have collaborated with the remaining members of everyone's favorite heavy metal grunge band from a time when things were simpler—when Taylor Swift's first beef with Katy Perry began when the former stole the latter's Easy Bake Oven recipe for strawberry shortcake. A time when the dress was neither blue nor gold because Twitter didn't exist, and therefore nobody cared. A time when the word "swagger" got you sent to a work camp, and the entire country united behind that standard.
To be honest, I debated whether or not to go full hard-Barn for a game that'll be over before the lunch specials end at Applebee's, but you deserve better than that, so what you'll get is another sleep-deprived, Red Bull-fueled, musical stream of consciousness that might not make any coherent sense whatsoever.
But you're my friends, and you won't judge, right?
The Smoking Barn presents...
"The Rooster: Game Hen's Bane"
"Ain't found a way to kill me yet / Eyes burn with stinging sweat"
Peyton Barber ran hard, had a hole ripped in his football pants in the shape of a heart, then said "Yes ma'am" to Allie LaForce in the postgame interview. Is this man not your favorite like he is mine?
Roc fell, Jovon was playing hard to get, Kerryon will carry on. They couldn't kill Peyton Barber, and he knows it, and Gus knows it, and by mid afternoon on Saturday, the entire Jacksonville State defense is gonna know it. 100 yards and two touchdowns as he stares death into your linebackers with fiery eyes.
THE BARBER OUT HERE MAKIN' CUTS.
"Seems every path leads me to nowhere"
Here the phantom cries of Louisville's offensive line as they sing the woes of trying to block Carl Lawson. Here's a hint, Jax State: it's impossible.
"Wife and kids household pet / Army Green was no safe bet"
The First Family of No Huddle, the Malzahns. They are the chosen ones. They came to win.
Household pet? Our eagles will eat your household pet.
The army green turf of the Georgia Dome. Did you think this would save you, Bobby Petrino? "Auburn East"? The very stadium you weaseled out of as you left the most famous Dear John letter on the walls of that Falcons locker room?
Surely you jest, and you did, because you lost. Again.
"The bullets scream to me from somewhere"
As in sweating bullets. As in the body's natural reaction to watching Auburn play anyone (except South Carolina in the 2010 SEC Championship and LSU in 2014).
Ah, it's good to have football back. It's good to be reminded what it's like to give years of your life to the Cardiac Cats every weekend (and sometimes on Thursday nights when you have to play a sneaky Kansas State team coached by Bill Snyder).
It's like Hank, Jr. said (with a little Pat Dye thrown in for good measure): "It's a fambleh tradition."
"Here they come to snuff the rooster / Yeah here come the rooster, yeah"
Jeremy Johnson comes to snuff out the Jacksonville secondary with crisp, laser throws as he establishes an intermediate passing attack that will make the doubters repent for...doubting.
But the rooster still comes? Is there another rooster?
"You know he ain't gonna die / No, no, no, ya know he ain't gonna die"
Yes, and the other rooster is Jesse Palmer. Jesse is the ultimate football rooster, and sadly, his brand of Montreal bro-douchery ain't gonna die anytime soon. But rest assured, my fambleh—your fearless Barner in Chief will be there with a freshly un-ironed shirt to lay on the gravestone of his Canadian-candy-coated career of hyperbole.
"Walkin' tall machine gun man / They spit on me in my home land"
The doubters called you a cancer, Duke. They called for your banishment. But you stand at 6'2" with shark eyes and walk tall onto that field with white armbands around your machine gun arms. You will devour this defense and spit out the wishbone after you've racked up 150 yards receiving and caught two TD passes.
"Gloria sent me pictures of my boy / Got my pills 'gainst mosquito death"
(I have no idea what this means. People probably bought this album with the same mindset.)
We saw glorious pictures of Tray Matthews smiling and raising his arms after Saturday's game, and we rejoiced. We will need him to stay healthy all season, because he and Blake Countess and Carl Lawson and the other Boom Disciples will be the only treatment against the slow, wear-you-down death of the opposing offense having its way up and down the field between the 20's, sucking up yardage as we scream out at our televisions in delirious anger.
"My buddy's breathin' his dyin' breath / Oh god please won't you help me make it through"
Your buddy, in this case, is Jacksonville State's starting quarterback, and you're a helpless offensive tackle, unable to keep the forces of Montravius Adams at bay as time and time again he smashes your buddy to the ground—on first down, and second down, and thir—nope, Carl Lawson gets that one—and all game long until you're begging your coach to take you out for a water break.
You won't make it through the second quarter.
Auburn will win this game. Period. Jacksonville State will show us their spurs early, and they might even get a couple of slices and jabs in while they're out there, but Jeremy Johnson's got a hatchet, and a hatchet stained with the blood of the rooster after it's been trampled on to the tune of 400+ yards of offense is more than enough to put these Game Hens out of their misery by halftime.
Speaking of butchering, I apologize, Alice in Chains, for ruining the (arguably) one good song you had. Maybe you can reunite to sing Jacksonville State out of the hole they'll find themselves down in the third quarter when Jonathan Wallace starts throwing touchdowns.
Final Advantage: Auburn
Songwriting career for yours truly: Unlikely
Opposing Team/Coach/Fanbase Hate Index: 2.3/10
Score Prediction: Auburn 42, Jacksonville State 17
Because where there's smoke, there's fire, and I'll spit hot 90's grunge fire until the cows come home.
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO BARN. WAR DAMN EAGLE.