This is not a game of hope. This is a game of knowing you will win, of knowing those smug thumb-fixated fowl are days away from the biggest beating of a decade.
This isn't hope. This is GEE-HAW'D!! This is the gathering of all disappointment and anger and frustration and focusing if souly on the strutting featherheads before us.
We ARE going to win, and if all you bring to this soiree is hope, then you'd be well served to stay behind those of us who are bringing a pipe wrench and a blackjack.
This will be the weekend the world is set right. This is the game of atonement, of grimly wading through the feathers and entrails, to make thumb-sucking fear the rule.
Speak no more of hope. Speak of fact.
And the fact is, Clemson is going to win. Pick up the pitchfork and follow the Sons of Clemson into that vile pit of poultry ... and watch the world be made right.