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Life Is Hard, That's the Price of Fame. When You're Perrilloux, Everyone Knows Your Name.

Ryan Perrilloux is not practicing at LSU, nor will he play in Saturday's Spring game. But the oft-suspended star-to-be will be making the trip to the White House with the rest of the mythical champions Sunday, after all, and rejoin the team for the summer.


Predicts he'll win four straight elections.
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There is something deeply hilarious in this scene, in President Bush congratulating Ryan Perrilloux, smiling broadly, sincerely, applauding the young man on his many fine accomplishments. Probably getting in some dig about decomitting from Texas, heh heh ("You make a commitment, son, you stick with that commitment. No matter what."). I can't put my finger on it. It's subtle, personal; too nebulous and dark, probably, for a football blog. Probably unfair.

Maybe it's their mutual obsession with Osama, the flesh-and-blood Evildoer and metaphorical Face of Evildoing, whom Perrilloux patriotically outed last weekend as closing manager of a faux ritzy restaurant in Baton Rouge. Maybe it's the sneaking suspicion that, if the same Ryan Perrilloux identified as a "person of interest" in a federal counterfeiting investigation had been named, say, Mukhtar Abdullah, he himself might currently be an Evildoer, not shaking the hand of the scourge but sitting in a cell somewhere among the scourged. They'd probably ask why he was shot as a teenager while wearing a mask and jumping from bushes, or why he was caught running around dens of iniquity with illegal identification. It wouldn't look good, if that was the case. But the president, I doubt, will care at all about such misdemeanors, having admitted to his share of adolescent hijinks. It's something they can share, really, along with the genuine awesomeness of being #1. Maybe it's just me, reading the wrong story late at night.

This is in no way a criticism of Ryan Perrilloux, who is eligible, innocent until proven guilty, of legal age, has never been convicted of anything, and should enjoy the trip.

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The title is a reference to this, if you were wondering, or if you just couldn't get it out of your head. Frankly, the fiction in this case could never have held its own against the reality of the last six-and-half years, though it would have been great to see them try.