Bidgood Bob Has to Eat

Since Alabama and Auburn are both off this weekend (Alabama’s “game” tonight doesn’t count), and next week is apt to get pretty testy, I decided this week’s column should be about something the Aubs and Bammers can all agree on… food. 

The internationally-recognized
Lunch in the Gump logo

As some of you may be aware, in my day job I am Chief Executive Officer of a multinational conglomerate known worldwide as Lunch in the Gump. At LITG, we are working on solutions to global warming, peace in the Middle East, stemming the foreclosure crisis and ending our country’s reliance on foreign oil. We are bigger than Colonial Bank.


And when we’re not solving the world’s problems, we like to have lunch. Oh, we do love our lunch. Sometimes we even write about the experiences, and you can find these “reviews” at www.lunchinthegump.com.  


Mind you, at LITG we are not food critics. We are just average folks from Montgomery, Alabama, AKA “The Gump.” We are Aubs and Bammers united in the pursuit of good eats and friendly conversation in locally-owned joints.  

Dreamland - A Gump-worthy
Alabama-based chain.

We like our vegetables fresh and our burgers greasy. And we do not suffer chains lightly. To qualify for our patronage, to be Gump-worthy, as we say, a chain restaurant must (a) be good, and (b) have its origins in Alabama. For example, we have no problem recommending Dreamland or Baumhower’s, but we’ve expelled members for eating at Moe’s.


Now, don’t misunderstand… there’s certainly nothing wrong with Moe’s. The place is just not Gump-worthy. When the employees holler “Welcome to Moe’s!”  on your arrival, they’re not doing it because they’re happy to see you. They’re doing it because the franchise manual says they have to. We hate stuff like that.


At Hamburger King, they are happy to see you too, but they don’t all yell “Welcome to Hamburger King!” when you walk in the door because they are too busy constructing the most impossibly perfect greasy burger you will ever put in your mouth. Yes, eating one will shorten your life span but what the hell; it will also cure a hangover. So have two.


Take a ride down to Dexter Avenue to Chris’ Hot Dogs if you want something truly extraordinary. Last April Fool’s Day we posted on the blog that Chris’ was calling it quits after 93 years in business. Our simple prank caused civil unrest, rioting and panic-buying of Chris’ Dogs. 


Only in Montgomery can you savor the excellence of the fully pimped-out hamburger steak at Sundown East. We call it the “Beast.”  There is a dish at the Green Papaya that I can neither spell nor pronounce but it’s unbelievably good and will take care of that congestion problem you’ve been having.


Want to see what happens when a Quizno’s goes out of business and the only thing they leave behind is that little roaster oven with the conveyor belt? Then go to Wishbone Café way out in East Gump. They are using that little conveyor roaster to churn out some of the best Cajun/Creole dishes this side of Canal Street. 


There are just too many good joints to list. El Cantaro over on Ann Street es muy, muy bueno.  If I were judging a cornbread contest between the Davis Café and Martin’s, it would end in a tie, probably after several overtimes. 

If you like fried chicken (and who doesn’t?) you ought to try the pulleybones at Eastbrook Café. Just don’t use the “pulleybone method” to decide who is paying the check. Governor Riley might decide that you’re gambling and next thing you know you’ll have troopers all over your ass. I saw the Guv in there once. “Well, well, well,” he said, “Looks like we got ourselves some illegal gamblin’ chicken here.”

Actual photo of the Guv making the deal
with Chief Pascagoula from Mississippi.

Sometimes when LITG is in the midst of disentangling a particularly thorny international crisis we send one of our junior executives over to the Scott Street Grocery & Deli for takeout. The subs there are really good and they are also approximately the size of Nerf footballs.  


Now, if you don’t read anything else in this column here are two words: Stockyard Café. It’s up in the North Gump somewhere but whatever you do, find it. Here is an excerpt from the LITG review that sums it up nicely:


“A hoity-toity, mamby-pamby restaurant reviewer might note sarcastically that nothing says ambiance like the lack of ventilation, second-hand cafeteria trays and misspelled, handwritten signage. Not so fast, my friend. This place oozes grease and confidence like their patrons. They even give away raw onions and peppers to those who don't care how they smell from either end.”


Derk’s Filet & Vine, Down the Street, Sinclair’s, El Rey, Lek’s Railroad Thai, Lunde’s, Farmer’s Market, the Wagon Wheel, Corsino’s, Cook Ma’s, Shashy’s… there are simply too many good lunch places to list them all. If your favorite got left out, let me know.


It’s almost incomprehensible that you can buy this stuff right here in your very own Gump. You don’t have to go to Paris or Rome, or even Atlanta. Just hop in the car and chow! 


LITG would also like your opinion. Through the end of the month we are soliciting readers’ input on their favorite lunch places. Go to www.lunchinthegump.com to participate.


Like we say at Lunch in the Gump World Headquarters, “Think global, but eat local.”

BCS Poker on ESPN - A Rigged Game

ESPN, the self-proclaimed “Worldwide Leader in Sports,” is playing college football like a game of Texas Hold ‘Em.

Huh? College football media coverage is like poker? Have I lost my mind and gone to drinking on deadline? Again?

A good player knows the winning hand is not always the best hand at the table... you drag a pot because everybody thinks you have the best hand. Sometimes you have to make the guy with the best cards throw his hand away. 

Other times you get dealt unbeatable cards, the “Nuts” as they’re called. Anybody can win with the Nuts, but a good player doesn't just win the hand. A good one lures you in, making you think you’ve got the best cards right up to the moment the trap is sprung and your chips are gone.

Because there’s no playoff system, ESPN can play poker with college football, and they are playing it very well. They say when you look around the table and can’t spot the sucker – you’re it. Well, college football fans, ESPN has made us the suckers. If the BCS can’t get the two best teams into the championship game, then ESPN will make you think the two best teams are there.

Case in point, FOX Sports chose to play a mindless game of roulette by spending untold millions for broadcast rights to the World Series, without any idea who would be playing or if anybody would tune in to watch. Because there is a playoff system, the wheel was spun and it came up Giants vs. Rangers -- horror of horrors if you're FOX. Saturday night’s Game 3 had the second-lowest TV ratings in history. Sunday night’s Game 4 was beaten by a regular season NFL game. And there wasn’t a damn thing FOX could do about it. FOX gambled and lost, just like brainless saps who play roulette (or electronic bingo).

No way ESPN lets this happen in college football. Their talking heads remain in lockstep, telling pollsters how to vote, telling us which teams are good and which are overrated, who to watch, hyping this team and poo-pooing the other, all to maximize ratings for their games, including the big one January 10 in Glendale, Arizona, live on ESPN. 

Everybody hopes for the Clash of the Titans. But what if it turns out to be a dud? What if the SEC teams beat each other up? What if Michigan and Penn State stink? What if USC is on probation? Well, ESPN already figured out a strategy for playing this crappy hand. They call this strategy “BCS Busters.”

Boise is good because Herbstreit says they are.

The more Kirk Herbstreit told us how really good Boise State was, the more people believed him. Boise and the other BCS Busters were played as ESPN’s hedge against the possibility that the big boys might all have a loss or two. The network has created its own fallback position, a guaranteed unbeaten team worthy of respect and high ratings. Why? Because Herbstreit told us so – certainly not because of anything these lightweights have done on a ridiculous blue field. 

ESPN expertly built Boise and the Busters, running the Respect Machine wide open in case any of the big boys stumbled. When Alabama fell, followed by Ohio State and then Oklahoma, it didn’t matter because ESPN had the Busters as hole cards, just in case.

But as the season moved on, more cards were revealed. ESPN is now eyeing the Nuts – a matchup unbeatable in the ratings – the mother of all shootouts pitting the explosive Oregon Ducks vs. the equally explosive Auburn Tigers, led by Heisman winner Cameron Newton and his Wheaties-box smile. 

There is this one tiny problem for ESPN, though. The BCS Busters won’t lose. What is to be done with the faux monsters they’ve created? Kenny Rogers says you’ve got to know when to fold ‘em. So ESPN is dumping the Busters like a medium-high pair against a flop full of suited overcards.

Sorry about the gratuitous use of poker jargon.

The first move occurred last Tuesday night when Boise played fellow WAC powerhouse Louisiana Tech on the aforementioned ridiculous blue field. Here is the #2 or #3 team in the polls, hyped for years by ESPN as deserving of “respect,” playing the only football game in the country during prime time. Where does ESPN air the game? Surely on ESPN! 

Nope, Boise played on ESPN2 (known to most as The Deuce but known to my readers as the Skateboarding and Texas Hold ‘Em Channel). What was aired on ESPN, the Mothership? Why, a poker tournament, of course. Check it yourself. For once I didn’t make this up. Respect, my ass.

Alabama vs. Auburn... ESPN is all in.

Having folded the BCS Busters, ESPN is now playing its final hole card – the Alabama Crimson Tide. Faced with the prospect of an Oregon - Boise BCS Championship (the horror) ESPN is now making the case that the road to Glendale, Arizona goes straight through Tuscaloosa, Alabama. 

Listen to them. “If Oregon and Auburn win out, they’re definitely playing for the championship, but if Alabama beats Auburn, the Tide is in.” What they are really saying is, “You need to stop voting for Boise and the Busters! We can’t let Boise in because nobody will watch the game, much less the month of hype preceding it.” 

Of course, ESPN isn’t holding the Nuts just yet and there are still cards in the deck. What if Oregon St. beats Oregon, Georgia beats Auburn, Auburn beats Alabama, then South Carolina gets revenge on Auburn?

Boise vs. TCU for the Crystal Football? I'd rather watch poker.

A Short History of the Reformation, Bama Style

Bama’s homecoming win against the Ole Miss Black Bears (or whatever we have to call them now) is thankfully in the books. The late kickoff made for a long day, so my memories are rather wooly. As deadline approaches, I can’t find my scribbled notes and I think the digital voice recorder I use for preserving insightful observations got left on the bar at Gallette’s.

Therefore lacking the wherewithal to regale The Independent’s well-read subscribers with amusing anecdotes from the Capstone, I must check off to the safety valve -- a history column about The Reformation.

The start of a movement

Many historians believe the Reformation began in 1517 when Martin Luther hammered his 95 Theses to the door of a German cathedral, thereby challenging the primacy of the Roman Catholic Church and instigating Protestantism. Hah! Those silly historians couldn’t be more wrong.

The Reformation began on January 4, 2007 when a Gulfstream jet landed at Tuscaloosa Regional Airport and Nick Saban climbed out of it. This represented the first challenge to the official religion of the Bama Nation, Bryantology, and launched a reform movement now commonly referred to as Sabanism. Whereas Martin Luther had his 95 Theses, Saban brought the Process, and it was good.

The rise of Bryantology is well documented, but I will sum up for the uninitiated. It went like this: the U.S. seized the Yellowhammer State from its rightful owners, and then in 1831 the Legislature created the Promised Land in Tuscaloosa. The Chosen People wandered for a spell and dabbled at football until George Denny emerged as their leader. Denny begat Wade, who begat Thomas, who begat Bryant. You know the rest.

Of course, there have been offshoots. For a while there were Perkiscopalians, Curryists, Stallingists, Dubosians, Franchionistas, and Shula Krishnas. None of these ever really caught on, except for the Stallingists, which most college football theologians characterize as a fundamentalist Bryantology sect ultimately snuffed out by NCAA Philistines and the Free Homer Movement. But I digress.

The Doctrine of Bryantology requires constant proclamation of past successes and an unyielding belief in the manifest destiny that Bama will always prevail simply because of its Bamaness. The observant and faithful can be seen in and around the Bryant-Denny Cathedral in their houndstooth vestments, partaking in the sacraments of bourbon and crimson kool-aid, secure in the kind of faith that can sustain a true believer through six straight losses to Auburn.

He is watching you.

Bryantology is a quirky faith. Its high holy ground is Moro Bottom, Arkansas. It uses a bizarre numerical system that multiplies national championships by a factor of two. Its followers do not visit doctors, instead knowing that an offering of a Coke and some Golden Flake chips at the foot of the Bryant statue will have you feeling better by the time you get back to Gordo.

One of the more moving elements of Bryantology is the ecstasy of the masses during the pregame Incantations, which accompany video highlights of umpteen national championships and which are comprehensible only to the faithful. For years, the Incantations would emanate from the Bryant-Denny speakers like a bullfrog rumbling at the bottom of a well, and then out would run the team for kickoff.

But a strange thing happened in Bryant-Denny one afternoon in the late summer of 2007. Immediately after the Incantations, the Jumbotrons flickered for a moment then returned to focus on the image of a long, empty tunnel. The opening riffs of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck began to pound the air. Then two Alabama State Troopers appeared at the far end of the tunnel and waited, at parade rest. And these were not the usual flabby, about-to-retire troopers, either. These were hard, chiseled troopers you’d hate to run into after a night of doing shots and acting the fool. What was happening here?

This is how it unfolded. All of a sudden the image of Saban, flanked by the troopers, appeared on the colossal screens. Just as suddenly the multitudes seemed to forget about the Incantations and rose as one, a sea of deafening crimson as the players, larger than life and with purpose in their movement, fell in behind Saban for the walk down the tunnel.

They emerged from the tunnel, streaming from video screen to hallowed ground, picking up pace and breaking into a charge to the thunderous delight of the crowd, which was being Processed from a celebration of the past into the shimmering light of the here and now. In that moment Sabanism was born.

One at a time, a'ight?

Hardcore Bryantologists with holy artifacts.

Now there is a great divide in the once-monotheistic Bama Nation. Houndstooth fedoras give way to wide-brimmed Panama hats. Newly converted Sabanists abandon the recitation of past glory in favor of relentless attention to the present. While Bryantologists remember the Rose Bowl, Sabanists are consumed with a laser-like focus on this Saturday, and this Saturday alone.

Yes, he lost a game to South Carolina. But the faithful still believe. Heck, it took more than one plague for Pharaoh to get it through his thick skull that the Chosen People were not to be trifled with. This would be a good place for a Red Sea metaphor, but as usual I am on a deadline and have to wrap this up. Oh well.

So what will come of the Reformation? Will Bryantology and Sabanism be able to coexist peacefully? Or will the two factions devolve into centuries of self-destructive conflict? Will the conflict create a void to be filled by the upstart Newtonarians from the East? Are there barbarians at the gate? Stay tuned.

Uh-oh.

Bidgood Bob's cries for help are sometimes published in the Montgomery Independent, a scruffy weekly that you may not always agree with, but you ought to subscribe to anyway, because there is something worth reading in there every single time.


Almost forgot... lay the points and take Bama in Knoxville.