The Lord answers all prayers . . .

. . . but sometimes the answer, as my mom used to tell me, is "no."

Except -- except man, when we ran that freaking miracle halfback-option play for the touchdown in the third quarter, I really thought things were going to turn out differently. In case you didn't see the earth-shattering awesomeness that was Spartan 47: Second and seven from the Florida 9, Dawgs down 14-3, Joe Tereshinski III takes the ball from under center and nearly gets planted in the ground by a Florida DL who came blasting through our O-line like the freaking Kool-Aid pitcher. But right before his knee touches, T3 shovel-passes -- or more like dump-truck-passes, if there is such a thing -- the ball back to Thomas Brown, the RB. The would-be sacker sees that Brown has the ball, so he gets up off of T3 to go after Brown, but that releases T3 to race his Polish ass to the goal line. And T3, whom all the haters said had committed the cardinal sin of not being D.J. Shockley and therefore couldn't run for shit, has gotten up off his Polish stomach and run to the goal line fast enough for Brown to throw him the ball, and T3 catches it while he's in midair and getting creamed by Todd McCullough, and as two-hundred-something pounds of McCullough ride him to the ground he still manages to stretch across the goal line and break the plane.

Fuck a Immaculate Reception, that was one of the most amazing plays I've ever seen. Too amazing to get wasted in a loss, is what I'm really trying to say here. I mean, what if Buck Belue had thrown that ball to Lindsay Scott back in 1980 only for Lindsay to get shoelace-tackled at the 15 and the Dawgs have to settle for a field goal? I don't think so. Great men don't do great things just so it can end up not mattering. You see a play like Spartan 47 executed, not just executed but ripped from the razor-sharp, blood-soaked fangs of defeat, you think, All right, dude. If we can pull of some shit like that, we're gonna win. We're just gonna.

And had we won, Spartan 47 would be remembered 25 years from now just as Buck-Belue-to-Lindsay-Scott is. But Spartan 47 was only one touchdown, and we needed two. And apparently after putting the Most Awesomest Touchdown Ever in our bag of tricks, we forgot to pack another one.

That's the last Moral Victory on the Rocks I'm going to drink this weekend, except to say that T3 played a hell of a game and for all the talk about how Chris Leak looked so poised and so confident in the pocket early, he only had 8 more passing yards than 'Shinski did. Point is, T3 doesn't bear the sole blame for this loss, not with all the woulda-coulda-shouldas flying around Alltel Stadium yesterday. I just hope they'll pick themselves up off the mat and beat Auburn in two weeks like they did back in 2002. (Well, not exactly like in 2002, because I'd prefer not to be down 14-3 at the half or need a last-minute TD pass to escape with a victory. But you know what I mean.)

But I'm still proud of our team, and God willing, we'll beat Auburn. God also willing, I'll be there in Athens to see it. So if anyone knows where some tickets are available, help a poor depressed brother out and let me know, k thx.