I still worry that an accurate QB can carve us up. And our program is not built to win shoot outs.
Each week the college football landscape is littered with the corpses of defenses carved up by accurate QBs.
A very October-appropriate observation.
Darkness falls across the land
The kickoff hour is close at hand
QBs pass, in search of blood
To terrorize y'awl's stadium
And whosoever shall be found
Without the reach for knocking balls down
Must stand and face the raucous yell
As the scoreboard digits begin to swell
The foulest stench is in the air
The funk of forty thousand yards
And wide receivers find lots of room
In your secondary to seal your doom
And though you fight to stay alive
Your safeties starts to shiver
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of the (gun)slinger