Put down ye grog an' open ye peepers, scurvy dogs! It be game day i' the morn'! Thru me lookin' glass I see th' scores a'ready . . .

Thar be nothin' me hates seein' o'er th' starboard side more than a slimy-back, lock-jaw gater! The land-lubbin Vols wull run the cannon straight thru the poop deck fer the win!
Vols 24 - Gaters 21.

The cabin-boys would cough up a week's ration o' rum to see a good scrap atween two tail-waggin', prickly-tooth tigers. This'll be a good'un.
LSU 14 - Auburn 10.

Them wrinkle-headed, red-backed mongrels nearly made me load me blunderbuss an' go fer the evil genius cap'n last week. They'll han'll things a bit more peaceful-like out yonner. That scallywag frum New Jersey 'll slice thru the desert like me trustey ol', pearl-han'led cutlass: Moreno fer 3 furlongs.
Dawgs 35 - Arizona State Whatevers 14

Now shut yer trap-door less ye like the taste o' cannon shot!

E