Originally posted by pkprd869
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I thought SoCal got some stormed when Stanford pwned USC a couple week ago 
I just can't resist. All our sprarky teams are down this year. And as a nice segway into fluffy Thursday I found some of these football (Or futbal Americano if you will) stories.
Revenge of the Dawg
“Elizabeth, is this really necessary?” John questioned as he moved another bush into place.
“All you had to do way say no,” Elizabeth grinned and raised brow.
“Well… I was just trying to be nice since you lost last year,” John replied while setting the plant in line with the others.
“That orange “T” still hasn’t come off my window,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“I didn’t know it was super tough safety paint. I already said I was sorry,” John walked to get another bush.
“Are you sorry ‘Rocky Top’ still plays when I open my laptop?” Elizabeth put her hands on her hips.
“That is pretty funny. You could always change that you know,” John picked up another hedge and set it down.
“I think the doghouse would look good there,” Elizabeth pointed to where John should place the dog house.
“You actually like this mascot?” John asked as he set the red doghouse down.
“Bulldogs are loyal and brave companions. I like it better over there,” Elizabeth spoke and John moved the doghouse.
“To bad they’re ugly as sin,” John went to get the victory bell.
“Bite your tongue John Sheppard! Bulldogs have a rather rugged handsomeness. And Uga is one the most recognizable mascots in sports,” Elizabeth surveyed her decorating.
“Whatever you say,” John mumbled a set the victory bell next to the doghouse.
Elizabeth and John walked back down the steps of the gate and admired their work. There was a perfect row of hedges on each side of the steps leading up to the gate. Uga’s doghouse and the victory bell were set to the right; the doghouse even had a stuffed version of Uga sitting outside.
“Very lovely,” Elizabeth commented.
“Whatever,” John complained.
An hour later John stood outside the door to his quarters. He paused before opening the door when he saw a large black “G” trimmed in white and red painted on the door. John shook his head and entered his room. He sat down on his rack and picked up War and Peace. After a few minutes reading, the lights turned red. John stood up and nearly screamed when he heard “Glory to Old Georgia” playing continuously.
“McKay, what have you done?” John questioned on the radio.
“What are you talking about?” Rodney answered around a tuna sandwich.
“Why are the lights in my room red and ‘Glory to Old Georgia’ playing nonstop?” the irritation in John’s voice rising.
“That. Well… Elizabeth made me do it,” McKay responded casually.
“Then shut it off,” John complained.
“Can’t. Elizabeth said she’d have the mess hall serve nothing but citrus for a week if I turned it off before she said so,” Rondey talked as he typed on his computer.
“I’ll make sure you survey desert planets for a week,” John threatened.
“Sorry, can’t help. Elizabeth scares me way more than you do,” Rodney replied and ended the conversation.
“Crap!” John shouted out loud.
After gathering himself for a few moments John decided a good workout would help ease his mind. He ran a few miles around Atlantis and lifted for an hour. John stepped out of the shower to see his locker open and his clothes missing.
“Where the hell did my clothes go!” John tried not to start yelling in front of everyone.
“Sir, Elizabeth told me to give this to you,” Major Lorne handed John a big “Hairy Dawg” head.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” John yelled.
“I’m gonna guess it goes with this,” Lorne swung the door of John’s locker to reveal the rest of the “Hairy Dawg” costume.
“Seriously! I’m supposed to wear that!” John screamed in frustration.
“You could just walk around in your towel,” Lorne shrugged and headed for the shower.
“Crap,” and with a sigh John put on the costume and left the gym.
The next few hours weren’t bad. John was thankful nobody recognized him walking around in bulldog outfit. There were plenty of stares and laughs but his identity remained safely hidden. John thought he might be alright until he bumped into Carson.
“Colonel Sheppard,” Carson tried to catch the dog.
“Come on,” John hissed and ignored Carson and kept walking.
“Colonel Sheppard,” Carson ran and caught up to John.
The entire hallway stopped as they realized who was behind the mascot.
“What… do… you… want…?” John ground out.
“You’re due for your annual physical. I tried calling you on the radio but there was no answer,” Carson answered.
“How did you find me?” John growled.
“Elizabeth and Rodney said you’d be dressed like a bulldog. I didn’t believe them, but John Sheppard in a dog costume as I live and breathe,” Carson gave John a couple pats on his dog head and left.
John made it back to his quarters and dropped the mascot head to the ground. He sat down at his desk and opened his computer. The Georgia fight song blasted through the laptops speakers. John slammed the computer shut and decided to just get some sleep.
John paused when the space were his bed used to be was empty. He looked around and saw a large doghouse in the corner. John grabbed the note attached to his new gift:
“John,
Hope you like your new bed!
Elizabeth”
The door to his quarters opening made John whirl around to see who would bear witness to his humiliation. Elizabeth entered with a big grin on her face.
“John, looks like you’ve had a rough one,” Elizabeth teased.
“Can I least have my bed?” John hung his head in defeat.
“That’s what I came to deliver,” Elizabeth smiled and placed her hand on John’s shoulder.
“Red and black sheets?” John shook his head as two airmen carried in his bed.
“A bet’s a bet. Good night John,” Elizabeth smiled and left.
Elizabeth walked back to the transporter wondering if she was too hard on John. A blood curdling scream rang out though Atlantis. Elizabeth entered the transport thinking replacing John’s beer stash with dog biscuits might have been a bit too much.
And this one about a certain maroon foul...
John Sheppard looked over the sunny clearing in anticipation of today’s football game. He grinned in satisfaction; John was coaching the first football game in another galaxy. Shaking his head John went back to get the box of uniforms that just came through the gate.
“I can’t wait for today’s game,” Elizabeth Weir smiled as she approached John.
“Me neither. But I don’t know about the uniforms,” John scratched his head.
“I think they’re cute,” Elizabeth replied with a brow raise.
“See, that’s the thing football isn’t about cute. It’s about toughness and hard work and...” John was interrupted.
“And comradery. We all know your post practice speech,” Elizabeth teased.
“Well, it is. And most importantly football is about fun,” John finished.
“I never saw the fun in grown men participating in legalized battery,” Elizabeth shrugged.
“You have fun checking out all the guys in their tight football pants,” John started walking to get his box of uniforms.
“Girls need some way to tolerate football,” Elizabeth fell in step with John.
“True. My ex-wife hated football. She said it was too stupid,” John continued walking.
“I get the strategy involved in it. That part is interesting. But still, the more you beat up somebody the more you get cheered. I just don’t get it,” Elizabeth stopped as John opened the box of uniforms.
“Man, who came up with these colors?” John grimaced at the uniform he held in his hand.
“Maroon and orange is pretty,” Elizabeth defended.
“I don’t know. At least you didn’t make me dress up like that ridiculous ‘Hokiebird’. It’s just a maroon turkey,” John grabbed the box and headed for the tent his team used as a locker room.
“Oh, just dig through that box and you’ll find something in there for you,” Elizabeth titled her head.
“Ok,” John set the box down and dug around, “a Virginia Tech sun visor and sweater vest?”
“The coach has to wear his school colors proudly,” Elizabeth grinned.
“Mine are cardinal and gold. But I did lose the bet,” John sighed.
“The Vols can’t win all the time. And I doubt USC is going to disown you as an alumni,” Elizabeth joked.
“You’re still bitter and only want to bet when Tennessee plays. That ‘T’ is starting to peel off,” John pointed out.
“Yeah, but I still sing ‘Rocky Top’ in the shower,” Elizabeth walked with John.
“You sing in the shower?” John started to laugh trying to imagine Elizabeth singing in the shower.
“Just that song,” Elizabeth blushed realizing she walked into that joke.
“Alright, I have to go address the men,” John said as they reached the tent.
“They’re twelve year old Athosian boys. I almost forgot,” Elizabeth reached down by the entrance, “you need this.”
“Geez, a lunch pail. Come on Elizabeth,” John complained.
“It’s a Virginia Tech tradition. You have your audibles in there, strategy, and the entrance music,” Elizabeth showed John the contents of the lunch pail.
“Entrance music? I think you’re taking this a bit far Elizabeth,” John kept complaining.
“Tradition is tradition,” Elizabeth found John’s complaining quite endearing.
“Alright. I’ll see you at the game,” John entered the tent.
Elizabeth stood along the painted line that served as a marker for the spectators. Most of the city came to see the football game. Major Lorne was coaching the other team of Athosian boys. John heard the opening to “Enter Sandman” and led his team sprinting on the field. Elizabeth stifled a laugh when John dropped the lunch pail.
After the game Elizabeth walked onto the field to congratulate the winners. She presented John’s team with the “Atlantis Cup.” The trophy was a small model of Atlantis crafted from brushed stainless steel.
“Thanks Elizabeth. I hope you had fun,” John spoke as the kids raised their trophy in the air.
“I did. This was a pretty good idea. It’s a good way for everyone to relax. But there’s something missing,” Elizabeth scratched her head.
“I have just the thing,” John smiled as the “Hokie Pokie” came over the sound system.
Elizabeth laughed as everyone, including the Athosians, joined in the “Hokie Pokie.” Elizabeth and John smiled as they put their whole head in and shook it all about and turned themselves around.
I just can't resist. All our sprarky teams are down this year. And as a nice segway into fluffy Thursday I found some of these football (Or futbal Americano if you will) stories.Spoiler:
Revenge of the Dawg
“Elizabeth, is this really necessary?” John questioned as he moved another bush into place.
“All you had to do way say no,” Elizabeth grinned and raised brow.
“Well… I was just trying to be nice since you lost last year,” John replied while setting the plant in line with the others.
“That orange “T” still hasn’t come off my window,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“I didn’t know it was super tough safety paint. I already said I was sorry,” John walked to get another bush.
“Are you sorry ‘Rocky Top’ still plays when I open my laptop?” Elizabeth put her hands on her hips.
“That is pretty funny. You could always change that you know,” John picked up another hedge and set it down.
“I think the doghouse would look good there,” Elizabeth pointed to where John should place the dog house.
“You actually like this mascot?” John asked as he set the red doghouse down.
“Bulldogs are loyal and brave companions. I like it better over there,” Elizabeth spoke and John moved the doghouse.
“To bad they’re ugly as sin,” John went to get the victory bell.
“Bite your tongue John Sheppard! Bulldogs have a rather rugged handsomeness. And Uga is one the most recognizable mascots in sports,” Elizabeth surveyed her decorating.
“Whatever you say,” John mumbled a set the victory bell next to the doghouse.
Elizabeth and John walked back down the steps of the gate and admired their work. There was a perfect row of hedges on each side of the steps leading up to the gate. Uga’s doghouse and the victory bell were set to the right; the doghouse even had a stuffed version of Uga sitting outside.
“Very lovely,” Elizabeth commented.
“Whatever,” John complained.
An hour later John stood outside the door to his quarters. He paused before opening the door when he saw a large black “G” trimmed in white and red painted on the door. John shook his head and entered his room. He sat down on his rack and picked up War and Peace. After a few minutes reading, the lights turned red. John stood up and nearly screamed when he heard “Glory to Old Georgia” playing continuously.
“McKay, what have you done?” John questioned on the radio.
“What are you talking about?” Rodney answered around a tuna sandwich.
“Why are the lights in my room red and ‘Glory to Old Georgia’ playing nonstop?” the irritation in John’s voice rising.
“That. Well… Elizabeth made me do it,” McKay responded casually.
“Then shut it off,” John complained.
“Can’t. Elizabeth said she’d have the mess hall serve nothing but citrus for a week if I turned it off before she said so,” Rondey talked as he typed on his computer.
“I’ll make sure you survey desert planets for a week,” John threatened.
“Sorry, can’t help. Elizabeth scares me way more than you do,” Rodney replied and ended the conversation.
“Crap!” John shouted out loud.
After gathering himself for a few moments John decided a good workout would help ease his mind. He ran a few miles around Atlantis and lifted for an hour. John stepped out of the shower to see his locker open and his clothes missing.
“Where the hell did my clothes go!” John tried not to start yelling in front of everyone.
“Sir, Elizabeth told me to give this to you,” Major Lorne handed John a big “Hairy Dawg” head.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” John yelled.
“I’m gonna guess it goes with this,” Lorne swung the door of John’s locker to reveal the rest of the “Hairy Dawg” costume.
“Seriously! I’m supposed to wear that!” John screamed in frustration.
“You could just walk around in your towel,” Lorne shrugged and headed for the shower.
“Crap,” and with a sigh John put on the costume and left the gym.
The next few hours weren’t bad. John was thankful nobody recognized him walking around in bulldog outfit. There were plenty of stares and laughs but his identity remained safely hidden. John thought he might be alright until he bumped into Carson.
“Colonel Sheppard,” Carson tried to catch the dog.
“Come on,” John hissed and ignored Carson and kept walking.
“Colonel Sheppard,” Carson ran and caught up to John.
The entire hallway stopped as they realized who was behind the mascot.
“What… do… you… want…?” John ground out.
“You’re due for your annual physical. I tried calling you on the radio but there was no answer,” Carson answered.
“How did you find me?” John growled.
“Elizabeth and Rodney said you’d be dressed like a bulldog. I didn’t believe them, but John Sheppard in a dog costume as I live and breathe,” Carson gave John a couple pats on his dog head and left.
John made it back to his quarters and dropped the mascot head to the ground. He sat down at his desk and opened his computer. The Georgia fight song blasted through the laptops speakers. John slammed the computer shut and decided to just get some sleep.
John paused when the space were his bed used to be was empty. He looked around and saw a large doghouse in the corner. John grabbed the note attached to his new gift:
“John,
Hope you like your new bed!
Elizabeth”
The door to his quarters opening made John whirl around to see who would bear witness to his humiliation. Elizabeth entered with a big grin on her face.
“John, looks like you’ve had a rough one,” Elizabeth teased.
“Can I least have my bed?” John hung his head in defeat.
“That’s what I came to deliver,” Elizabeth smiled and placed her hand on John’s shoulder.
“Red and black sheets?” John shook his head as two airmen carried in his bed.
“A bet’s a bet. Good night John,” Elizabeth smiled and left.
Elizabeth walked back to the transporter wondering if she was too hard on John. A blood curdling scream rang out though Atlantis. Elizabeth entered the transport thinking replacing John’s beer stash with dog biscuits might have been a bit too much.
And this one about a certain maroon foul...
Spoiler:
John Sheppard looked over the sunny clearing in anticipation of today’s football game. He grinned in satisfaction; John was coaching the first football game in another galaxy. Shaking his head John went back to get the box of uniforms that just came through the gate.
“I can’t wait for today’s game,” Elizabeth Weir smiled as she approached John.
“Me neither. But I don’t know about the uniforms,” John scratched his head.
“I think they’re cute,” Elizabeth replied with a brow raise.
“See, that’s the thing football isn’t about cute. It’s about toughness and hard work and...” John was interrupted.
“And comradery. We all know your post practice speech,” Elizabeth teased.
“Well, it is. And most importantly football is about fun,” John finished.
“I never saw the fun in grown men participating in legalized battery,” Elizabeth shrugged.
“You have fun checking out all the guys in their tight football pants,” John started walking to get his box of uniforms.
“Girls need some way to tolerate football,” Elizabeth fell in step with John.
“True. My ex-wife hated football. She said it was too stupid,” John continued walking.
“I get the strategy involved in it. That part is interesting. But still, the more you beat up somebody the more you get cheered. I just don’t get it,” Elizabeth stopped as John opened the box of uniforms.
“Man, who came up with these colors?” John grimaced at the uniform he held in his hand.
“Maroon and orange is pretty,” Elizabeth defended.
“I don’t know. At least you didn’t make me dress up like that ridiculous ‘Hokiebird’. It’s just a maroon turkey,” John grabbed the box and headed for the tent his team used as a locker room.
“Oh, just dig through that box and you’ll find something in there for you,” Elizabeth titled her head.
“Ok,” John set the box down and dug around, “a Virginia Tech sun visor and sweater vest?”
“The coach has to wear his school colors proudly,” Elizabeth grinned.
“Mine are cardinal and gold. But I did lose the bet,” John sighed.
“The Vols can’t win all the time. And I doubt USC is going to disown you as an alumni,” Elizabeth joked.
“You’re still bitter and only want to bet when Tennessee plays. That ‘T’ is starting to peel off,” John pointed out.
“Yeah, but I still sing ‘Rocky Top’ in the shower,” Elizabeth walked with John.
“You sing in the shower?” John started to laugh trying to imagine Elizabeth singing in the shower.
“Just that song,” Elizabeth blushed realizing she walked into that joke.
“Alright, I have to go address the men,” John said as they reached the tent.
“They’re twelve year old Athosian boys. I almost forgot,” Elizabeth reached down by the entrance, “you need this.”
“Geez, a lunch pail. Come on Elizabeth,” John complained.
“It’s a Virginia Tech tradition. You have your audibles in there, strategy, and the entrance music,” Elizabeth showed John the contents of the lunch pail.
“Entrance music? I think you’re taking this a bit far Elizabeth,” John kept complaining.
“Tradition is tradition,” Elizabeth found John’s complaining quite endearing.
“Alright. I’ll see you at the game,” John entered the tent.
Elizabeth stood along the painted line that served as a marker for the spectators. Most of the city came to see the football game. Major Lorne was coaching the other team of Athosian boys. John heard the opening to “Enter Sandman” and led his team sprinting on the field. Elizabeth stifled a laugh when John dropped the lunch pail.
After the game Elizabeth walked onto the field to congratulate the winners. She presented John’s team with the “Atlantis Cup.” The trophy was a small model of Atlantis crafted from brushed stainless steel.
“Thanks Elizabeth. I hope you had fun,” John spoke as the kids raised their trophy in the air.
“I did. This was a pretty good idea. It’s a good way for everyone to relax. But there’s something missing,” Elizabeth scratched her head.
“I have just the thing,” John smiled as the “Hokie Pokie” came over the sound system.
Elizabeth laughed as everyone, including the Athosians, joined in the “Hokie Pokie.” Elizabeth and John smiled as they put their whole head in and shook it all about and turned themselves around.
Now that we've played UT, I'm pretty much rooting for the Vols to beat as many SEC Eastern teams as they possibly can from here on out.
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