January 5, 2011 by David Gillaspie
Hmmmm, Ducks over Tigers. Yes.
Dr. Freud spent a night at DG’s B&B in the smoking room.
He burned through a pack of Swisher Sweets little cherry flavored cigars.
With yellowed fingers and clothes reeking of cheap tobacco, he brought a BCS Championship Game analysis to the breakfast table.
“My interest, you might call it a passion, is Oregon football. You see, the underdog, or in this case under-duck, is a classic example of over-compensation,” he said.
Another guest at the table, SEC Guy, in town to visit the home studios of 95.5 The Game, raised his bloodshot eyes and bellowed, “Compensation? I told you all we’re not the only ones paying for players. I know compensation and I know constipation. If you don’t pay your players enough, your program gets backed up.”
I prepared scrambled eggs for the two men. Ordinarily I use organic eggs from uncaged, free roaming chickens, but the store was out. Instead I cracked six from an old carton in the back of the garage fridge into a ceramic bowl.
Dr. Freud leveled his best glare.
“Constipation, my good fellow, results from forced potty training. In my country the scheisse haus is a sanctuary. As a result the end product resembles a tidy bratwurst. I don’t expect you to understand.”
SEC Guy’s head waved like a sick cow with the scowers while I turned on the stove.
To make the best scrambled eggs in the world, start with a large pan over medium heat while you lift the eggs with a fork. Add an eighth cup of water during the lift. Circle the raw eggs away from you until you get to the splash point, then go the other direction. Whip them until they start to bubble.
“I know one thing, bub.”
“My name is Freud, Dr. Freud.”
“Okay then, Dr. Fud. I know one thing, and that’s you smell like the south end of a cow headed north. Which pasture did you roll out of this morning. I sure hope it’s not one of the rooms here.”
Before the pan grows too hot, add a table spoon of good olive oil. Italian will do if you can’t find Spanish oil. Use a soft spatula to scoop the edges of the bowl when you pour the eggs into the pan. Pull the eggs across the center of the pan to check for build up.
Freud sniffed the air and patted his pocket for a smoke. His pack of Swisher Sweets came out empty.
“My good man, I am European, and as such don’t have the overly anal attention to hygiene you in the states exhibit. Any smell emanating from my body is purely human without the stench of cosmetized odors.”
Avoid egg burn by scooping the sides of the pan toward the center, then pulling the mass toward you. Repeat with salt and pepper.
SEC Guy fingered a pack of Phillip Morris Commanders from his shirt pocket and slid it over to Dr. Freud.
“You may not get around as much as you think, Fud, but you smell worse than a pork rendering plant. If the rest of Europe smells like you, no wonder you lost the war. Here, have a real cigarette. Those Swishy Sweets can’t be good for you with that brown paper.”
As the eggs firm, fold them and turn them for a custard look. Keep pulling the spatula across the sides of the pan. You’ll be surprised to find nothing left on the edges.
“Do you know football?” Dr. Freud asked.
“Do I know what?”
“Oh, I heard you, Fud, I just couldn’t believe you’d ask something so damn dumb. Everybody in America knows football, and I’m not talking about skinny guys in tight shorts playing kick ball. Listen son, when our football players go down like they’ve been paralyzed, they usually stay paralyzed. They don’t fake it. The pro who took a hit and went down and got some ice treatment on the field came around, but he would have been paralyzed too.”
After the eggs lose their shine, they’re ready to serve. If you time the toast right, it’s a perfect breakfast.
“By my calculations, The Oregon Ducks will run rough-shod over your Auburn Tigers. They are a team who play as one. Your team is one who is looking toward his next payday. He could care less about his school, which is a fatal attitude. Football is a team game, after all.”
“That right? Well, for beginners, I’m not Auburn. I’m SEC Guy. I’m here for Chaz Doing. You know Chaz on 95.5? He and Jim Rome are buddies. I can’t get through to Rome, but Chad takes my call.”
“How fortunate for you, Gee. By my estimation, your SEC will play as hard as they feel necessary for their compensation. However, the Ducks will roll them like a cheap cigar.”
“Cheap cigar, huh? You ought know, Fud. You smoked a pack of them.”
“And Chad is in Arizona. Here’s my card. We ought to discuss your issues sometime.”
“The only tissue you’ll need is one to dry your eyes after the Ducks drown in the Arizona ocean.”
Once the eggs set up, slice off sections to place on warm plates.
“Your misconceptions are amazing, as is your geography.”
“It’s called education, Fud, something you could use.”
“I will look into it after the Ducks win.”
“University of Phoenix sounds your speed. It’s a fine school for an internet degree. Any other advice?”
“Don’t bet the over/under. Stick to the spread. The Mirage has Auburn by 3.”
” I ‘preciate that. How about these eggs, huh?”