re: Tanner missed the tournament twice in his coaching career at SC (16 years)

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We beat Clemson in 2013 in football fwiw. And you can substitute trailers and meth houses for the rednecks in the upstate.

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Oh come on. I pull for the Gamecocks. But this is BS. If you want to roll that way, I can tell you for a fact there is no "qualitative" difference in our fan bases.

If you want, I could take you for a drive and find you some methy looking trailers with Carolina flags flying.

And if some Clemson guy came around and made that statement about the gamecock fanbase, I could drive him around the same area and find another methy looking trailer with a Clemson flag.

And before some Gator sticks his two cents in, I could drive around Micanopy and find stuff far more interesting and alarming than what I described in South Carolina. And my spider sense tells me I can find one with a Gator theme pretty easily.

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There's is the one of farmers

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Yeah, how can any one respect those dang ole farmers. I think Paul Harvey says it best...

And on the 8th day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, "I need a caretaker"

-- so God made a Farmer.

God said, "I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the fields, milk cows again, eat supper, then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board"

-- so God made a Farmer.

"I need somebody with arms strong enough to rustle a calf and yet gentle enough to deliver his own grandchild; somebody to call hogs, tame cantankerous machinery, come home hungry, have to wait lunch until his wife’s done feeding visiting ladies, then tell the ladies to be sure and come back real soon -- and mean it"

-- so God made a Farmer.

God said, "I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt, and watch it die, then dry his eyes and say, 'Maybe next year.' I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from a persimmon sprout, shoe a horse with a hunk of car tire, who can make harness out of haywire, feed sacks and shoe scraps; who, planting time and harvest season, will finish his forty-hour week by Tuesday noon, and then pain’n from tractor back,' put in another seventy-two hours"

-- so God made a Farmer.

God had to have somebody willing to ride the ruts at double speed to get the hay in ahead of the rain clouds, and yet stop in mid-field and race to help when he sees the first smoke from a neighbor’s place

-- so God made a Farmer.

God said, "I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bails, yet gentle enough to tame lambs and wean pigs and tend the pink-combed pullets, who will stop his mower for an hour to splint the broken leg of a meadow lark."

It had to be somebody who’d plow deep and straight and not cut corners; somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed and rake and disc and plow and plant and tie the fleece and strain the milk and replenish the self-feeder and finish a hard week’s work with a five-mile drive to church; somebody who would bale a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh, and then sigh, and then reply, with smiling eyes, when his son says that he wants to spend his life "doing what dad does"

-- so God made a Farmer.