Everyone wants to do something memorable on the biggest day of their lives. When the spotlight is on, there's something intrinsically human about wanting to do or say or fart something loud and big enough that people remember it for years down the road.
So yeah, while signing day announcements can sometimes be obnoxious, self-indulgent slogs that ultimately end with some faux indecisiveness over headwear, I get it. You're 17 or 18, everyone is watching, mom is recording something that won't get deleted off her ancient flipcam for at least five or six years; you want to make a splash that will make everyone forget about the nerds who signed their letters of intent to Who Gives A Crap University to go play some boring loser game that doesn't involve frequent bodily harm.
The problem, young football recruits of America, is that being young and enthusiastic tends to go hand in hand with overestimating how clever and interesting you are. That's why planning your signing day (your biggest day) should be out of your self-important hands and firmly in mine, a blogger on the internet writing this in his pajamas.
To be clear, I understand that many recruits have long decided on a choice well beforehand. This takes some of the drama and perverse fun out of the whole thing, and is generally just a bad decision overall. Signing day shouldn't be a formality, it should be a 24 hour Thunderdome of anxious awfulness. So with that in mind, I've tailor made some events for the currently undecided big time high school football players.
Adoree' Jackson is a cornerback who has narrowed his choices down to USC, UCLA, and a bunch of other schools that don't matter because he's from California and the said other schools are located in either flyover states or Florida.
I say run with that. Get some sexy new snapbacks for USC and UCLA, and then set up a ratty old fishing hat with a Jimmy Buffett sticker on the side for Florida and a literal bucket of cow feces for Oklahoma. Make allusions to the kind of shots you'd need to live in the state of Louisiana for any length of time, and then after you've made your inevitable choice of USC, laugh in the face of whatever dumbass reporter asks you how hard the decision was.
And then as a final coup de grace, present a lengthy slideshow about income inequality in the south, Adlai Stevenson during the Cuban Missile Crisis style.
Juju Smith is being specifically targeted by Oregon, which of course means that he needs to spend the next 12 hours doing everything he possibly can to rep Adidas in every way possible. Wear nothing but Adidas gear, spam Run DMC on Twitter, maaaayybe publicly pine for those sweet new Adidas throwbacks.
Which might tip people off that it's all a ruse, but hey, screw it. We're going for maximum trollage here.
Malachi Dupree is one of the best wideouts in the country, and has been aggressively recruited by Florida State, Alabama, LSU, and Ole Miss. None of those are a shock because the first three are collegiate royalty, and the last one is probably paying players money to sign with them (which really sounds much more innocent when you type it out like that).
Anyway, because of Dupree's stature as a recruit, I've decided to create a five step process for his commitment that is truly befitting someone of his skills.
Step 1: Fatsuit. Or just fat. Show up to whatever ceremony that your school has devised at least 30 pounds overweight, loudly complaining about a lack of Ring-Dings, Ho-Hos, and Twinkies at your school. Constantly smack your lips and interrupt other presenters to proclaim that you're sure you smell ham somewhere.
Step 2: Screw hats, adorable puppies, balloons, or trained mice. Set up five PBR cans with names of potential schools written on the side in lipstick. Make sure to emphasize that the lipstick was obtained from a "real nice lady" from Ole Miss. Put on blindfold. Walk 20 paces, and then turn around and fire a gun wildly at the cans. Go to whichever school you end up hitting first.
Step 3: Sign all relevant documents in crayon. Insist on writing your name as Malachi "Dora the Explorer" Dupree.
Step 4: Send letter of intent by carrier pigeon. If asked about it, shrug and say "if it gets there, it gets there." Alternatively, stuff papers in a pneumatic tube at a local bank and hope for the best.
Step 5: Show up to Mount Union in June.
Jamarco Jones was once a solid Ohio State commit, but now finds himself wavering on where he might attend college. To assuage Buckeye fan fears, my recommendation is for Jamarco to immerse himself in Ohio State lore, and spend the next day or so talking about Woody Hayes, Brutus Buckeye, TBDBITL, Block O, and all manner of random OSU facts and information. Maybe publish a list of the top 25 Ohio State offensive linemen in the 90s, 80s, 70s, 60s, 50s, and 40s, and get a tattoo of Orlando Pace permanently imprinted on his forehead.
Then gleefully sign with Michigan State.
Stephen Collier is already enrolled and on campus, but that shouldn't prevent him from throwing a baller signing day bash that destroys any and all goodwill that he's built up with Ohio State fans by being an intelligent and articulate young man. I mean, let's be honest, if you're going to have to cover up the mysterious disappearance of three strippers or explain how that dismembered goat got in your dorm room and why it's surrounded by a pentagram topped by an effigy of Miley Cyrus, now's the time to do it, young man. We here in the B1G have no problem with what kind of freaky things you get down with on your own time, but please make sure that it doesn't effect our future bowl status.
Signing day should be a proud moment for parents and children. It's also a circus of media, Twitter, weird middle-aged hangers on, fax machine webcams, and angry death threats on online message boards from TURBOTEXAN75.
Anyone shooting for classy tomorrow it doing it the wrong way. Embrace the madness.