I hate LSU as much as the next guy, but with all the rumblings from the bayou that Miles' tenure in Baton Rouge might be nearing its end, I wanted to celebrate the man we'll be beating in Oxford on Saturday. Because Les Miles is a poet, friends. He may not know it, and you might not think it, but there is no finer craftsman of post-game poetry than the Mad Hatter. Here, for your enjoyment, is his finest work. Go ahead and award Les the Pulitzer now.
Our Bodies Are a Little Worn
(a found poem, composed entirely of lines from Les Miles press conferences)