Dear God,

First of all, I want to thank you for the many blessings with which you’ve blessed me over the years; a loving family, wonderful friends, and most importantly of all, an esteemed place in the brotherhood of the GREATEST DAMN UNIVERSITY IN THE WORLD.

You have blessed me Lord, and will undoubtedly continue to bless me, I am sure.

So let’s not let up now, OK?

For Lord, this time tomorrow I will be 30 years old, a milestone in anyone’s life, another mile-marker on the golden highway to Immortalityville (Population: You). And Lord, in honor of such an occasion, I ask for only one thing…

We must beat Georgia Tech.

Lordy, please understand that I’m not one of those guys who asks you to help his team win, and, by logical extrapolation, the other team lose. Oh no, Lord. I ask nothing like that from you. In fact, Lord, I do humbly ask you to help The Lying And Cheating Nerds From North Avenue this evening - because, frankly, Lord, those sonsabitches are gonna need all the help they can get.

Mighty are your blessings, Lord; you have blessed the Dawg Nation with a successful coach who, not coincidentally, has a faith that allows Jesus to carry him in tough times (read: 2003 SEC Championship, 2004 Tennessee game) along the beach of trial and tribulation and so there’s only one pair of footprints in the sand or something. I forget exactly how the poem goes, but you get my point.

And the blessings don’t stop there, Lord - they just keep on a’comin’. You have given us Moses, Mohamed, and, most importantly of all, Pope Maleficent Benedictus the VIIth - your greatest creation yet.

Lord, you gave Pope Maleficent Benedictus the VIIth the patience of Job to wait for the safety to bite on the play-action before shedding his blocking assignment and turning up the field for a long pass reception. Amen. You gave Pope Maleficent Benedictus the VIIth the strength of Samson, except this time you did the right thing and gave him little hair, so he has no weakness. Amen. You gave Pope Maleficent Benedictus the VIIth the quick feet of Shadrach, who developed his speed and cutting ability hopping around in that hot furnace until you showed up. Amen. You gave Pope Maleficent Benedictus the VIIth the architectural and construction ability of Noah, as he, alone, built the Continuing Education building in his spare time between catching passes, flattening linebackers, and healing the sick. Amen. Lord, if only you had given him x-ray vision like Superman - South Bend’s most recognizable landmark would be Touchdown Pope Maleficent Benedictus the VIIth.

I am torn, however, Lord. You know well the consistent lying and cheating the Bugs have infected the football landscape with, and part of me wishes you would smite them for their malfeasance. But I will not ask that of you. For one, the NCAA has already done that. You work in mysterious ways, Lord. For two, despite your omnipotence, I feel we need not your services this day. So instead I ask of you our forgiveness.

Forgive us for our running game, for it will cleave the very heart of the Georgia Tech defense.

Forgive us for our passing game, for it will shame Jacket defensive backs into casting aside their Magic: The Gathering cards and acknowledging the greatness of the Dawg.

Forgive us for our defense, for it will break the very will of the Jacket offense, and several bones as well.

And finally forgive me, for upon our victory on the Flats this day my celebration will be one of great obnoxiousness as I urinate (definitately metaphorically, possibly literally) upon the collective heads of the less fortunate: the student body of the North Avenue Trade School.

In your name I humbly pray,

GATA,

Jasper was down,

Amen.