So... you read and read, and then read some more and you think you've got this growing thing figured out and you're feeling pretty good about yourself. You're struttin' around the house with your chest puffed out, shaking your tail feathers, and crowing, "I'M THE KING OF THE CROP!"
And then it hits you.. and it's so obvious that it leaves you wondering if maybe you've suffered severe synaptic terminal degradation due to hanging out with Sailor Jerry, Cap't Morgan, and Admiral Nelson. Naaah, that can't be it, right? Those guys are your FRIENDS! Too much CO2 being pumped into the room? Early onset dementia? Regardless the cause of the brain damage, you have to admit that you've missed a glaringly obvious truth.
A ScrOG'ed plant is a stationary plant! GAAAAAH! No more carrying your plants to the walk-in shower for feedings, flushing, or just to be surrounded by love while you scrub the dirt from under your nails. NOT a minor oversight, OK? So now what, brainiac? Maybe slip a big tray under the pots with a drain tube through the floor into the dining room below? The wife might frown on that. Besides, unless you're willing to unscrog your plants THEY AREN'T MOVING! And you can't get a tray under them without mastering the art of telekinetic levitation.
But then you remind yourself that you caught this problem early and unscrogging at this point really isn't an issue. You ARE a brainiac after all!
"I'M THE KING OF THE CROP AGAIN!"