The Popcorn Stand: Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you Clemson | NevadaAppeal.com

The Popcorn Stand: Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you Clemson

As Yogi Berra said it's deja vu all over again as I was able to write these words two years ago after Clemson beat Alabama for the national championship in football.

So again this is all I have to say to Clemson: Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Those of you who choose to read this Popcorn Stand know I'm not a fan of Alabama football coach Nick Saban. Again I have the chance to point out Saban once complained about how agents make their money off of amateurs while he makes an ungodly amount of money off of amateurs.

The thorough beat down Clemson put on Saban and Alabama was sooooooooo sweet to watch as the Tigers rolled the Tide (get it) 44-16. I've also written about this before back in the 1990s when the San Francisco 49ers and Dallas Cowboys were two of the best teams in football and rivals. As a 49ers fan I enjoyed sooooooooo much more watching the Cowboys lose than I ever enjoyed watching the 49ers win. And I'm sure most 49er fans feel the same way I do.

I've also written about this before one of the things we love most about sports is schadenfreude — feeling the joy in the misery of others, or more specifically feeling the joy in the misery of our rivals or the teams we love to root against. And I love to feel the joy in the misery of Saban.

On Monday one of the moments that was quite enjoyable to watch was Alabama's laughable fake field goal attempt in which it used the kicker as a lead blocker. Yeah, that was sure to work Saban.

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I have to admit, though, when next year's national championship game comes around and if Clemson is in the title contest, I'm sure I'll be rooting against the Tigers.

Of course unless they're playing Alabama.

— Charles Whisnand