I like a freebie and a cold beer as much as the next guy, but I have never attended SEC Media Days. I have, however, read about 40 years of dispatches from them and if there was an ounce of useful information in them I can't remember it.
Whenever I read them — and, face it, in July what the hell else is going on in wide world of sports? — I feel like I have been transported back to the days of Chip Hilton, Clair Bee, grizzled mentors, gridiron greats, shifty scatbacks, fabled elevens, beefy behemoths, and reporters with thick glasses, short-sleeved shirts, and press cards stuck in their hats and nicknames like "Scoop."
"How's the team look this year, coach?"
"We got some good 'uns/hosses/studs/fine young men/JC transfers/barely eligible sophomores comin' back but we lost some starters/great athletes/felons too, so we'll have to wait and see who steps up/ sucks it up/gits after it/work their tails off/has foot speed/hits the weights/digs deep, and who wants to get the job done before we line up/tee it up/open the season/kick some D-2 ass/get our asses kicked."
"Gee, thanks coach. And by the way, these goody bags are the best ever. See you at the bar/pool/next press conference/golf course/NCAA hearing/when you get fired."
When I was a wire-service reporter, I was a purveyor of such nuggets myself, via phone calls with the sports information directors in Mississippi. One day the report was, I swear, "The Bulldogs worked out today in their shorts."
I can't wait for September. I mean it. We got us some studs. The Buckeyes are down. Go Blue.