Partyplanners.com might be the new personal website for the backup's backup quarterback-converted-starter, Kevin Craft. The UCLA junior who delicately gift-wrapped four picks before resuscitating himself during the second half of in the Bruins' wild, gut-it-out 27-24 victory over Tennessee in Week 1 wasn't as dismal against BYU. His team was.
Craft aired out 230 yards at a 23-for-39 clip, managing just one interception. He labored through an abysmal drubbing. Craft is the the son of a college coach, yet he sports a football pedigree weaker than UCLA product Reggie Miller's arms and ability to effectively announce a basketball game ("garnish" and "garner" are two entirely different words, Reg. Stick to Shakespearing fouls, attempting to elicit a response from the refs by bouncing around like a spindly pinball machine, penetrating the noggin of guys that can wallop your ass in one heave and sticking threes from a different area code).
The third-stringer's evolution into the starting role was inevitable, as misfortune materialized for the projected starter and his backup. One may have confused Craft for an Event Planning or Hotel Management major at the scenic, smokeshow-loaded L.A. campus after watching him offer some room service lobs to a hungry nucleus of Vols defensive backs (see Willingham, DeAngelo and McKenzie, Devin) in the Tennessee win.
Still, despite his penchant for hoisting up souvenirs to secondaries, Craft can't shoulder all of the blame for the flat-out embarassing 59-0 washout the Bruins suffered at No.18 BYU this weekend. What was easily the most confidence-crushing, humiliating loss in 75 years played out before a strongly partisan 64, 153 in Provo, Utah was a collective effort.
Don't get it twisted. I know BYU is for real this season, no argument about that. But if you were to tell me that a dump-off of this caliber were to emerge...
I'd probably tell you the chances of that occuring is about as likely as an asian man giving Jill Kelly and Eva Angelina a night to remember. 59-zip. Wow. That's what I call a blood-lettering.