As a little-known Football Championship Subdivision liberal arts school in Greenville, S.C., the Furman brand isn’t exactly engraved into college sports culture, and most folks haven’t the slightest idea of what a paladin is.
But the old adage says know your enemy, and it’s undoubtedly important to know when someone’s entrails are about to be incinerated by a level 72 Avenging Wrath spell.
This is the danger presented by the Paladins (3-4, 2-2 Southern Conference), who may or may not ride into Tiger Stadium wielding broadswords and casting auras on white stallions. Vegas Insider set the point spread at 47 in favor of LSU, but it’s not certain if that number truly represents the point spread or a body count.
But Furman doesn’t want the public to know its true intentions. That’s why few outside of South Carolina have seen them play — Furman is orchestrating one of the greatest cover-ups in the history of the world.
The historical paladins, also known as the Twelve Peers, were the highest ranking knights in the court of the Carolingian King Charlemagne. But Furman didn’t adopt the Paladin nickname until 1961, and the 12 century gap leaves too many questions unanswered.
Paladins exist in the fictional realm as well. Many online role-playing games feature paladins as a playable warrior class, most notably in “World of Warcraft.”
“This is the call of the paladin: to protect the weak, to bring justice to the unjust, and to vanquish evil from the darkest corners of the world,” reads the official World of Warcraft website. “These holy warriors are equipped with plate armor so they can confront the toughest of foes, and the blessing of the Light allows them to heal wounds and, in some cases, even restore life to the dead.”
Let that sink in for a minute. Not only are paladins the personal bodyguards of kings, but they are infused with magical abilities. It’s no wonder Furman is touted as South Carolina’s most selective private university, but perhaps the “liberal arts” being taught in Greenville are actually dark arts.
LSU soccer coach Brian Lee played and coached at Furman for 15 years before accepting his job in Baton Rouge, and he is presumably well-versed in the Paladin culture. But Lee said the school didn’t teach its students the history of the 8th century knights, ruling out the possibility that Furman based its moniker on the medieval paladins.
Lee said a paladin was nothing more than “a knight on a white horse,” but his quick, short-winded answers hardly shed light on the true nature of the Furman Paladins. Lee denied being knighted, learning magic or swearing any blood oaths at Furman, which is exactly what a wizard-knight sworn to secrecy would do.
The Paladin brotherhood is more than likely a covert international web of sorcerers and demon-killers, as they may have another sleeper cell in the Tiger ranks. A suspected Paladin is in the LSU football locker room — and it’s none other than senior quarterback Zach Mettenberger.
Mettenberger revealed what appeared to be an innocent connection to Furman when he told reporters he attended youth football camps at the school. But the Watkinsville, Ga., native said he knew Furman very well and that the trip from his home to the campus took exactly 1 hour and 27 minutes.
His precise knowledge of Furman’s location should send up red flags, as it indicates an intimate and familiar relationship with the university. However, Mettenberger gave false information — the suggested Google Maps route from Watkinsville to Greenville said the trip should take only slightly less than two hours.
Why would Mettenberger feed the media lies about Furman’s location?
The only logical answer is Furman is actually a Hogwarts-style school surrounded by spells to keep out non-magic users and the government. Mettenberger tried to throw reporters off the track, and it’s obvious where his allegiance lies.
The senior quarterback conveniently “doesn’t remember a lot” about the football camps he attended in his youth. That is either another shameless cover-up or a desperate cry for help from the part of Mettenberger’s subconscious that was brainwashed by propaganda and wizardry while within the magical barriers of Furman.
Did the Paladins invite promising football stars to their camps to brainwash them into strict obedience and teach them swordsmanship and the ways of the Holy Light, anticipating some prophetic day of retribution? We probably won’t know until they’re upon us.
And when that moment comes, even a Frost Armor spell won’t save the Tigers.